Apres March

Of all the thought-provoking signs at the Women's March, the one most provoking to me was, “So bad, even introverts are here.”

For all my earnest talk about issues, in my life I have done very few concrete things to assist those causes. Joined a few campaigns (and did little), sent money, talked, worried, wrung my hands.

On November 9, though, something changed, as it did for so many. This introvert got the extrovert knocked into her.

There was a period between deciding to march and the actual March when I (dare I say we all) were depressed, waiting, dreading, saying our fond and grateful goodbyes to the Obamas, trying not to lose hope in the interim.

Then we marched. (insert your version of “Hallelujah” here)

Today, Monday, as I write I am packing to go home to New Hampshire, tired and energetic at the same time.

Among other things, I will use this space to describe my actions toward lessening the coming storm and ideas for more.

I love this country. More than ever.