entre dos aguas: the last seven months – a review?

‘Been a weird last seven months.

Since the end of January 2015, I’ve learnt a lot about hyperlocal journalism but achieved absolutely nothing as far as engagement is concerned.

Since May 2015, I’ve learnt a lot about politics but have convinced no one that building is better than internecine fighting.

I’ve said and written and basically coded so very much during this period – yet achieved nothing of lasting value which serves the needs of my family in my role as breadwinner.

In fact, I’m in a far worse position now than seven months ago.

So is it all doom and gloom – all a grim misery and dark harbingers?

I’m not sure it is.

I’m clearer about the sorts of things, networks and orgs I’d love to work with – if, that is, they ever decided to work with me.  This knowledge’ll probably do me little good – and perhaps, in fact, I just have to accept that the people I’d like to work with don’t have the resources to supply me with a living, whilst those with the resources to supply me with a living aren’t the sort of people I’d like to work with.

Yes.  That’s the weird bit.  I have a family to support and yet something stops me working with those who could unfairly (or at least that’s how I see it) guarantee the family’s financial stability.  There is something I can’t deal with; something I find so difficult to accept; something about easy money that makes me highly resistant to its charms.

And yet my family suffers so dreadfully as a consequence: my better half in particular works her socks off.  All I do is blog and think.  Compared to her, compared to her achievements, mine pale by dreadful insignificance.  They are, to be honest, non-existent.

I am but a quark of sand.

This is not my universe.

I wish I knew why I can’t work with those who can pay and can work with those who don’t.  So what’s the secret of those who successfully reverse the equation?  How do you manage it, folks?  What do you do not to feel awkward; out of place; “entre dos aguas”, as the Spanish would say?

Yeah.  I guess that’s what’s happened.  I resist with all my soul the temptations of coming down fulsomely on one side or the other in almost everything.  I don’t think it’s because I play the devil’s advocate though.  I think it’s more to do with the fact that I honestly, sincerely, instinctively, openly see several sides to any issue, even as the majority prefer to see only one.

For most people (or so it seems to me), an issue is a one-sided piece of paper to be read at a fairly singular glance.  For people like me, every issue is a distracting cut-diamond with a ton of gloriously glinting facets.  The latter kind of human being can’t help not agreeing entirely with anyone – trust, as a result, is a challenging step for both sides involved.  Meanwhile, the former kind of human being rubs enough people up in a constructively and engagingly useful way, so inspiring a confidence that moves spirits and ideas as much as it may move mountains of figurative argument.

I ain’t got that skill, I have to accept.  After seven months of attempting to do something constructive for the place where I live, I have to accept my failure.

But accepting failure has its upsides as well as its downsides.

Letting go is something I’ve learnt how to do often.

Something I’ve needed to do often, too.

Something which twice almost killed me, but now no longer affects me in the same way.


Off to pastures new.

Off to other ideas.

Off to – maybe – different places of residence.

Who knows?

Who cares?

Who’s bothered?  And why, indeed, should they?


Have a lovely summer, won’t you?

Time for my family and I to start anew.  And wherever we end up, do wish us well.

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