It’s hard to remember how slow progress is made. You feel like there is a sudden rush of it and, like a gambler on a hot streak, your hope overrides your common sense and you think it will keep on like this for a lot longer than it does. This is that little space where the unimaginably large numbers reduce to just two options, win or lose. We lost. Lost education reforms, lost digital infrastructure, lost protection of valuable natural assets. Lost a cultural war against the darkness of racism, misogyny and, worse of all, the love of money.
One step back.
Will this shuffle mean anything in fifty or a hundred years? A few dark years, lost in an ideological wasteland, might seem like a big set back but maybe it will be just the reminder we need to push harder next time. There’s always a next time.
It’s only taken me a week to get over it. On a scale of lovers parting and grieving the dead, it barely made me glum.
Then we went to the aquarium and watched the light bounce down through the water. Tiny, colourful fish darting past the living history of sharks and dugongs, gliding grey giants. You walk through tunnels under the water, so the fish and the light and the water is all around, a capsule of life. It goes on.