A Quiet Revolution
I’d like to start with an apology.
I got into a solid little rhythm writing to you every week for eight weeks and then the water of life rippled and everything went a bit wonky.
It’s easy to be consistent when everything around you is too; harder to when it’s not.
The past two Fridays have seen me making whirlwind trips to London and while six hour train journeys look like ideal writing time on paper, that’s not always my experience.
One blessing about my most recent trip was that I was able to attend ReVersary, a celebration of the open mic night ReVerse Voices, created by one of my best friends, Amy Allen, which she’s been hosting regularly for a year now.
With the mission statement of celebrating and elevating Queer voices, ReVerse provides a monthly opportunity for spoken word (and other) artists to share their work, in whatever form it takes and whatever shape it’s in, in a safe space.
As well as being a bad ass spoken word artist in her own right, regularly ‘warming up the mic’ (those are her words - I’d say she sets the bloody thing alight), Amy is the most joyful, generous and open hearted host. I am in awe of the space she has created and it gives me so much joy (but no surprise) to see the impact she is making in people’s lives.
Me and Amy at ReVersary, Photo by Lucinda Davidson (lucindadavidsonphotography@gmail.com)
We are living in unprecedented times but I worry that most often I react to this in a way that is supremely precedented. As one global atrocity after another is committed, one minority after another is victimised and villainised, and as the world’s compassion and humanity is slowly stripped out and sold for parts, I bury my head in the sand and numb myself out on the nearest available vice.
Yet here I was, on a Friday night, sitting in a theatre listening to Queer people speak their truth. As they did, I laughed and cried, consoled and extolled along with a room full of other souls and it felt like a revolution.
This revolution wasn’t/isn’t violent. It’s kind and considered. It’s thoughtful and reflective. It is radical.
In a way, it’s quiet. But it’s still a revolution.
It got me thinking that maybe writing to you (almost) every week is an act of revolution.
If that’s the case, I’m more determined than ever to share with you inconsistently consistently.
Welcome my friends, to my quiet revolution.
Photo by Lucinda Davidson (lucindadavidsonphotography@gmail.com)
The next ReVerse Open Mic Night is on Monday 13th April at the Union Theatre. Tickets are available here.
COMING UP. . .
THIS IS NOT A YOGA CLASS
A series of free 45-60 minute online classes blending elements of Functional Range Conditioning, Animal Flow, yoga and functional fitness with a focus on improving mobility. Email davidrobertscotland@hotmail.co.uk to register.
Sunday 5th April* and Sunday 26th April at 9AM.
*date change!




We need more quiet revolutions like that. I cry every day at the hate and violence spewed out towards other human beings and destruction of our beautiful planet. There are many who have forgotten we are part of nature and if we want to continue to thrive we must take care of her.