Letters to July – Thirtieth

I’m going to try and blog every day during July as part of Letters to July. It’s probably a bad idea.
Dear July,
I woke up from a mess of sad, swirling dreams. Usually on mornings like this, the sunlight drives all that confused, misplaced sadness away. It was harder to shake when there was so much real sadness swirling around me.
Early, I admitted that it wasn’t going to be a productive day, that maybe it would be better if it wasn’t. I had a bath. Did some washing. Cleaned. Tidied. Organised. Today was quiet and slow.
I sent a lot of texts to a lot of friends, checked in with people, asked if I could do anything even though I knew I probably couldn’t. I wanted to help but didn’t know how. I liked a lot of grief-filled Facebook statuses and Instagram tributes. These things matter, even though they’re tiny. You do what you can, what makes sense.
I get to know a lot of really incredible people and to be part of an incredibly beautiful community that is welcoming and loving and kind. Today I’m very grateful for that.
Alex x
PS – I am sad, as the last two blogs imply but I’m doing ok. A lot of people who I love are grieving and that’s hard and strange and sad. 
Letters to July is a project started by Emily Diana Ruth. For more information, click here.

Further reading

December – home

I spent the first minutes of 2018 on the beach. I’ve never actually spent New Year