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How to love this world? The power of our gifts in times of crises

I sit on the sofa holding her little hand watching TV. Her hot little body snuggled into my own. I shower her with kisses and hug her tighter.“Get off me, Mummy”, she says pushing me away. And in this moment, I am filled with gratitude to have this warm, cross, animal-child alive, next to me and able to shove me away.I don't have any answers. Any political ones, at least. My family lived through the horrendous violence of fascism and the insidious violence of communism. Neither work. Political analysis is not where my strength lies.Similarly, I find shouting at protests difficult (I wonder if the discomfort is an ancestral memory of enforced political rallies reverberating through my body?) Protesting in...

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