I live within a constant dissonance these days. And it is not the familiar dissonance of living as a woman in a man’s world, so beautifully celebrated in the Barbie movie by Greta Gerwig.

No, it is a new dissonance that grew like a mold in our society during the COVID years. I have been writing about my experiences during the COVID mandates for the last few years, and it feels like my words drop into a deep, dark well.

A well of muted public opinion of friends and family and new readers. A well that was built brick by brick out of fear and coercion. Each person has built their own well, affected so deeply by the ubiquitous propaganda that surrounds our lives. No one wants to examine what has happened, and what is still happening.

I don’t have the same heart that I once had. That same heart that wrote so openly about my father’s death. Or my mother’s Parkinson’s. Reaching out to connect to others. So free and trusting.

My heart has been bruised by the last few years. I feel closer to how I felt as a child, fearful, cautious, and untrusting. But, even then, and ever so, still strong.

I tried in the last year to write about the things that bring me joy, and that worked for a while. It was nice to feel joy and spread joy. That’s the only reason I ever wrote, to connect with others, to share. I like to ‘share’.

My deepest held conviction is that we have no enemies. There are no bad people. Our connection as animals is stronger than the our petty differences as individuals. We live, we breathe, we are the same.

And then we die. And our energy moves on. So what we have here in this world is, to a grand degree, arbitrary. We live in a burning building, that’s why we can cry for no reason.

When I began this blog I was sitting strong in my body, attuned to the minute details of life. And I was content, in a gentle prosaic manner. I was a sweet plump Mama so much more innocent than I am now.

I was encouraged to write this blog by my daughter, just as I had encouraged my mother to join a writing group . And I wrote from the heart. Just as my Mom had. But now I am feeling that it is over.

Facebook was the turning point, the turning, the moment of clarity. I am still on Facebook, though I am there as a shadow of myself. How grotesque Facebook is, with its data checks and misinformation enforcements. But on the edge of it, there is connection. And within the pages of it, there are true honest notes.

I censor myself in those public arenas, ever so aware that they are scrutinized by potential employers and publishers, and any damn person of authority.

So I am not honest, and I don’t say what I really think. Just as I hold my tongue many times a day on feminist issues. It is the dissonance; ‘between the truth and what people want to believe’.

Over the last few years we have given away some basic concepts of freedom that were once held as untouchable.

‘Under section 2of the Charter, Canadians are guaranteed freedom of thought, belief and expression. Since the media are an important means for communicating thoughts and ideas, the Charter protects the right of the press and other media to speak out.’

But not right now. Not with this government. It is now unacceptable to disagree with the government. And the worst part of this situation is your compliance.

Fascism cannot exist without people following the ‘rules’, the unquestioning herd that cancel and expunge, that will follow unnatural policies and directives against their own gut instincts.

And in this environment, it is difficult to feel motivated to write honestly.