I deactivated Twitter and Facebook this week. I’m not sure how long for. It’s called a sanity break. Social media dominates our lives and minds and I’m no longer willing to let that happen without my agency.

I feel my adrenaline pumping and my outrage and anxiety spiking every time I see a clickbait headline that incites only fear, or uninformed keyboard warriors spreading anger and uncertainty and half-truths and blatant lies. My stomach clutches when I see the breathtaking cruelty that humans can inflict on other humans online. So I fight. I rebut. I defend. I write articles and publish them, hoping I am putting useful information in front of people, somehow combatting the hate.

I’ve always been outspoken and passionate and feisty. I speak loudly about things that matter to me, and I try to stand in my power to defend others. That will never change. But sometimes, the greatest show of strength is to lay down your arms. For now, instead of fighting against the hate, I will intentionally move towards and share the good.

So today, a short meditation on joy – even in this strict Delta lockdown Auckland still finds itself in.

Let me tell you about joy

Let me tell you about joy.

Let me show you the golden head of my daughter as she bends to kiss the cat,

and laugh with me as his whiskers tremble with bliss-purrs.

Or, let me step aside and point to the tree where fragile bespectacled birds

flit and sup and rustle in pink tulle, tiny guests at a temporary garden party.

Listen as I sing imperfectly, loudly, at midnight, with no one to hear me.

Look as the tentative midday sun creeps around my door to nudge me.

Watch as I sit in the silence of a world on hold, and create.

Let me tell you about joy.

I will make it and laugh it and sing it and write it and share it

until a mad cacophony of goodness is all you hear.