About
I abhor labels. We use them for everything; the most insidious of this is to demarcate tribes, to indicate if you belong.
Labels create divisions, and they don’t seem to fit me now. Or rather, labels are of little benefit to how I want to move in this world. I am not a singular thing and believe we must hold our identities lightly. To reduce one’s inherent humanness into a few in-vogue, pithy words is not a game I wish to play. I am uninterested in telling you what I have done or hope to achieve. Instead, I find the liminal space of living and being to be more enticing, more real, more accurate to describe this middle-aged woman. Each day, new inputs make me question and ponder the old inputs. Make me wonder what the new outputs will bring about. I cannot point to a set of circumstances and say, "This. This here is who I am. This is what I stand for." It is impossible to do so.
The author on her motorcycle. Image courtesy of Oliver Cygan.
Maybe all that is important to know about me is that I have been kind, and I have been cruel, and somewhere in between those two polarizations is a woman trying to be a little better each day. This may be unsatisfying as an About page, but it is where I am, at this moment, on this evening, in this small, rural town, with dusk falling rapidly on a chilly September night. I hope it’s enough.