The Garden at Moorfield Journal: 36
All Gardens feel like Harbour Bridges, some days. 02.11.2023
Dear Readers, especially those of you who have followed us here from our other platform, and since our early days. You will understand, I imagine, what I am about to say, most.
What a week it has been! I am flat out stringing thoughts together by the end of it. Thank goodness I began writing this journal entry you’ll find below this message before these last few days unfurled. Life has hit us a few curveballs and left me a drift, somewhat. There have been many things, some great, some horrible. All of it taking up a lot of energy and headspace.
Serious family health issues (not within our household) still with a very uncertain outcome is making for some wracked nerves and plagued hearts. I am anxious as I write this, anxious for those I love and I imagine I will need to wander out into the garden at some point today and let it restore some sense of peace, as only it can.
Then there is the seemingly inconsequential bother, in light of the above developments overnight, and well, the state of the world in general, if it were not for the fact it has a huge impact on my ability to earn a livelihood, and that is the constant battle I am in with our public social media (of the same name). The algorithms and AI managed controls that now govern that world and likes to make reaching even a slither of a fraction of the 40,000 people who follow us and have for so long, seemingly impossible these days, means I am there less and less and would rather be somewhere else. Here.
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