It wasn’t till this week that I caught a glimpse into my own life of where I am at. After a Monday morning into mid afternoon of pain filled rejection did I decide to change the way I went about thinking. And with that came an intimation of how much my present state is dependant on my childhood experiences and growth. How do I describe this, it was knowledge that what I was experiencing with depression, anxiety and self-doubt that it went back to my formative years. That my time now post George is a necessary part of my growth as a spirit child having a human experience. Then it was gone. Now I am wanting it to reappear so I can interrogate it and find out more so that in the future this malaise will not have the ability to bring me down as low as I have been.

It is very difficult to live life post death of my husband and know what I want to do. After all from 17 to nearly 61 years I have been with him and nurtured, supported, encouraged, admonished, and leant on, not to my disadvantage but to my benefit and now that is gone. I cannot go back but to move forward is challenging. How do I do it, where do I do it and flourish!

Step one is to be here in WA at a small flat in Dawesville, looking across to the Indian Ocean, second is to be still working at South Metropolitan TAFE (ex Challenger) on a casual basis, third is to be attending church and teaching the youth class, fourthly engaged in study for my Masters in TESOL, and fifth engaged with family here in WA.

I am going to add in serving in the Temple, but that will come post study, for now finding family members and organising their work, then going to the Temple. I feel that is my pathway for now.

Its funny but a lot of women my age are expressing the same sentiments when I talk and listen to them. I’ve thought about it and in each case I think this may be because we have been the beneficiaries of education and training, work opportunities our mothers didn’t have, or if they were ‘liberated’ by WW 2 then after they came back into the middle class mould of stay at home and raise children while the father worked away.

Now when we see men in either blond or black died haircuts and their rhetoric seems so removed for what we marched for, protested over and attempted to live. But more intriguing I see women who look like they have come from the Mattel Barbie Doll mould.

Oh 2 lots of mould words, so maybe that what we are concerned about, no authentic people who are carrying out an agenda we thought had moved away, to the past, the lessening of the ‘straight jacket’ of compliance of……capitalism?

I remember back in the 1990’s when I was at Monash University studying Comparative Sociology and Comparative Literature, with a Minor in Asian History, that our Sociology professor stated in a tutorial that he had stopped marching as all the major ‘fights’ had been subsumed by Capitalism. Which by his definition was a many headed monster that had the ability to pop up another head just as you thought that you had slayed one.

And yet I see capitalism run riot again as the world experiences a pandemic not seen for over 100 years, media and politicking and business are awash with the ‘dooms-day mental head set of a latter ’14 century Black Plague’ scenario. There seems to be plenty of ” we are all in this together” however listening to the above mentioned I think the advertising is, a cover blanket. A self deluding cover blanket that’s trying to get us to be happy as far, far to many people yell about their rights, their sovereignty, their needs and to hell with the rest. Its all about making money. That’s what capitalism is, money and the ability to believe that if you have enough you will be everything the world desires.

I’m sure there is a movie in there somewhere. With a really horrible ending as the heroes realise that they are the problem too, that the outsiders in human or no human form really don’t care, Its all about money and power.

As the world tips towards , what, I don’t know , more selfishness!!!! I see parallels in the past histories of our lives. But I also see the good people stand up for others rights with compassion. I see the good people help others regardless of the cost to selves. And that allows me to have hope, to be engaged in authentic relationships, to reach out and comfort and be comforted in return.

So instead of being defeated I’m encouraged, instead of loneliness I’m surrounded by people who care, and I can still vote and raise my voice in support or condemnation to a system and the people in it who only see themselves through the lens of capitalism.

My voice, my thoughts from an old white woman who cares.