Each time I hear someone saying “we can t get women speakers” I’d like to know how they asked, or what they actually asked for. Obviously if they started with “it’s really hard to find good woman speakers. Would you like to speak at… ” They’re likely to get a no… Who would want to commit to an event organiser presuming you will give a poor performance? Ah the magical power – not magical at all but deeply rooted in linguistics – of the language we used in our sentence. My new Motto? Pause, question your question 😁, and question irl. 🙏🤗
Going back to writing from more than 10 years ago – ah the joy of the coach reflecting log 😅 – this sentence sticks out like a pole with no flag. It’s here, the intention, the strong direction, the strong momentum. Yeap this is what I want to do “make a difference for the better” at two levels actually, the protection of the earth, and the joy of people enjoying a better life. Of course the “how” this is happening, is what makes all the difference between wishful thinking and actions. And yes… I am miles away from where I thought I could be, my compass is spot on and still working, the landscape I had to navigate quite different than expected, the travelling slower. And the sticking pole poking me on regular basis 😁 like a nagging reminder “are we there yet, are we there yet?”. Just like in a trail when the end is not coming fast enough, no other solutions than simply… Putting one feet on the ground after the other one, one step at a time 😜🤗.
Et voilà le téléphone est raccroché avec cette mauvaise impression de n’avoir rien pu faire. Quelques mots. Mais ces mots ça ne fait pas le travail à faire, ça ne remplit pas les jours de rires et de conversations. Ce sont juste des mots éphémères qui s’accrochent à un bout de fil, raccomodent comme ils peuvent cette déchirure de la distance. A chaque point le cœur bat un peu plus lourd. A chaque point l’émotion se fait plus pesante. A chaque point un mal être de ne pas être là bas à porter ces douleurs avec eux. Un mal être inevitable, celui de vivre.
9.30am… and it feels 9.30pm. When the sky makes a box for me, coloring the world in the shadows of thunder, my eyes stopped blinking. Fascinated. Fascinating. Time is no longer a constant. Light is a game between wind and clouds. And the world freeze with twelves more hours to reach the already here hour.