And Still, We Write. And So, We Write.

Today is my last day with Writers SA. Feeling all the feels. I never thought when I started this job five months ago — a job I have dearly loved and will greatly miss — I would be leaving so soon, but such seems to be the fallout of pandemic life.

In my farewell email to the Writers SA community I quoted this poem by Amanda Gorman from her poetry collection, Call Us What We Carry:

“What we have lived
Remains indecipherable.
& yet we remain.
& still, we write.
& so, we write.
Watch us move above the fog
Like a promontory at dusk.
Shall this leave us bitter?
Or better?”

I’ve been thinking about these words this week. Often when we are too close to something — when we are in the midst of its chaos and turmoil and madness — it becomes hard to decipher its context and we struggle to find perspective until we are able to distance ourselves from the closeness of it all.

I wonder if we will look back at this time and realise there are things we could have — should have — done differently. If we will look back with a sharper awareness of the collateral damage from lockdowns and restrictions and mandates; none of which have perhaps made any difference, anyway.

This pandemic remains indecipherable — incomprehensible, even — but it won’t always. I leave my position with Writers SA with sadness, but not bitterness. We are all just doing the best we can with what we believe to be right and true in this moment.

I don’t know where to from here, but I do know that still I remain, and still I write, and so I write.

Here’s to the unknown and its endless possibilities x

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