They sail. I stay. My heart goes with them.

Text in our boat

oday, the Flotilla Sur set sail without me.

I watched them leave – or rather, I felt them leave, because part of me never got off that boat. My heart is sailing with every one of those brave companions. The sea is rough today and we all know what lies ahead. Interception. Violence. The machinery of a world that does not want Gaza to be free.

And yet they go. And I am here.

But I am not idle.

I am already thinking about the Sumud Congress – the next horizon. I want Sumud to become more than a word, more than a memory. I want it to be a global movement for justice, one that mobilises thousands of fellaheen from all corners of the earth. Not just for Palestine. For every place where land is stolen, where people are displaced, where dignity is crushed by profit.

Because Sumud is not only about Gaza. It is about justice everywhere.

I have seen how this connects. During our time sailing, we worked with incredible networks – Greenpeace, Open Arms, people who understand that solidarity is not a slogan but a logistics of love. And beyond them, the ecovillages – communities that resist consumption, that confront the destruction of the global speculative economy, that refuse to let trade and capital dictate how humans should live or die.

These networks are not separate. They are the same fight. The same Sumud.

So tonight, I am back home with my family. I can hear their breathing. I can feel the weight of being present. My heart is broken – yes. Part of it keeps sailing towards Gaza. Part of it is here, waiting, preparing.

But nothing is lost. Only transformed.

The Flotilla Sur sails on. And soon, I will sail again too. And next time, I will not stop at the water's edge. I will land. I will be there. With medicine. With hands. With Sumud.