I see Easter as a time of renewal. I shared this perspective with my friend Chloe, who I feel is with me today in spirit. She was a maker of dyes and cloth. I used to love sitting in her garden with my little girl, among the flowers and other plants that were the source of the beautiful colours for fabrics she created. Conversation was wide ranging - from the rich diversity of jazz to the tastiness of Bajan flying fish to fashion trends and aged astronomical practices of the Dogon people. I can see Chloe's broad encouraging smile in my mind's eye as I contemplate how much quiet effort it takes to gather the threads, preparing my new Hale radio show, shaping fragments into form, making space for creative work alongside client work.

What once guided my radio programming at ckln still guides me now: Nothing perfect. Everything purposeful. Here and now.

Still weaving. Always weaving.

From a new creative work I am developing - multidisciplinary and evolving, rooted in my shifting relationship with the world, picking up pieces in my healing journey, and a constructively critical practice of engagement. This work gathers its tools like offerings - closed and open-source code, offline rituals, stray sounds reflected in my IG stories, weathered fragments, bits of conversation posted elsewhere online or picked up in chats in a local cafe. I am calling it Living Centre. A portion of this will include a piece called What I Choose To Carry, beginning with an affirmation for today as I have been considering how my response to trauma, I experienced in my past, has influenced my present at each stage of my life, and the impact on others who have been in my life and who may also be in my life today:

For one:
I am not the voice of harm. I am the one who lived through it and lived beyond it.
I take responsibility for my mistakes and honour the wisdom learned.
They are part of my becoming.
I am allowed to grow, to rest, to shift, to change.
My truth is spacious. My heart is whole.
I trust the version of me who is healing, even when I’m tender.
I choose to live with care, with boundaries, with beauty.
Each breath I take in love is a breath my children can trust.
Even now, especially now, I can be a living ancestor of gentleness, positive change, and truth.

For community:
We are not voices of harm. We are the ones who lived through it and lived beyond it.
We recognise our role in the current state of the world and honour the wisdom in our mistakes
They are part of a new becoming.
We are allowed to grow, to rest, to shift, to change.
Our truths are spacious. Our hearts are whole.
We trust the version of we who are healing, even when tender.
We choose to live with care, with boundaries, with beauty.
Each breath we take in love is a breath our children can trust.
Even now, especially now, we can be living ancestors of gentleness, rich diversity, empowerment and truth.