And then the rains came

Thumping on the roof. Drains overflowing. Steady streams down the road.

It's been a miserable week, moisture-wise. 

I'd say 'apocalyptic', but I've always imagined that the apocalypse would be more fire than rain.

But perhaps the apocalypse doesn't come with a flash and a roar. Perhaps it just wears us down with its relentlessness.

• Bad weather. Worse weather. 
• Sad news. Terrible news. 
• Half-truths. Bald-faced lies. 

Chip, chip, chipping away. Until we are too weary to challenge anything anymore. We just want to curl up. Under a thick blanket. Watch some Netflix. Forget about the liars, the bullies, and the assholes on the world stage and in our daily lives.

We can deal with the ones on the TV screen because those aren't real. Or at least, we don't think they're real. Although it is becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish between the false (entertainment) and the real (actual life).

Chip, chip, chipping away at our perception of the false and the real.

When the rains came this year, I bought a nice new rain jacket. Bright blue. A happy colour. I am cheerful when I wear it because it protects me from the rain. But am now thinking it won't be very useful in the snow (too thin), nor in warmer weather (not breathable). And definitely useless in a fiery apocalypse (should that ever come to pass).

Most importantly, not so good at protecting from half-truths and bald-faced lies. No matter how nice the rain jacket may be, I don't think it can protect us from those things. So if we can't protect ourselves from the outside, we will have to do it from the inside instead.

We'll gird our loins (love that phrase.) We'll steel ourselves (like Wonder Woman & Superman) We'll brace for the relentless drip, drip, drip that chips, chips, chips away at our resolve to take action, to do better,

We Will Resist. And we'll march. Not just for one day.

Every day. In some small way. Every day.