I'm a pretty good leftist. I go to a lot of demos and a lot of actions and all the meetings and film nights, I even go to some out of town ones too! I feel like I really "get" demonstrations, I've been on a million including ones I've personally been extremely passionate about about things that affect me personally. Controversially though, I've never fully "got" pickets, until now.

I'm not too often on pickets, although I've always supported striking workers, I've been down to a few picket lines and normally waved some flags and chanted but it's never felt like my place.

Recently I've been a part of a dispute at my old workplace - I feel slightly insane writing this because I've had to tell this same story to now hundreds of people in the street while shoving them a flyer - the short story is I got sacked for discussing a potential pay cut at my workplace and now want some compensation and we're holding regular pickets at the shop telling customers to not go in.

I've agitated for unions for a while now but this is the first proper dispute I'm a part of and it's an odd one, I'm not on strike with a workforce, the only person who's hurt here is me, I'm asking all my friends to come out on a weekday to support early in the morning. It's a strange dynamic, I'm both the victim of the situation and get people telling me how sorry they are and how terrible what happened is, but I'm also the organiser of an event and the face of a campaign, I need to be and can be both personal and emotional and also strategic, serious and cool-headed.

I found this dynamic out when preparing for one picket and buying snacks to give out and I asked my partner "aren't I the one who needs support, I got fired?" and they responded saying yes but all these people are coming to support you and they’re right!

A lot of the time I'm the driving force behind getting anyone down to a picket line and the latest picket I moved off from the meet point on my own at 7:15am carrying a big hot water flask, a table and flags with a full backpack on my back; walking alone while the rest of the world is yet to wake up.

I went out and met the two others joining me for the early morning shift and moved to the shop with flags in hand and that's when it hit me that I really understood it. It was our fourth picket and numbers were a little low, the owner wasn't in so we had no one to directly shout at and you had to really remind yourself that this is a long struggle that will take many more early mornings before we have a chance of winning. It was cold and gloomy and I understood the sanctity of the picket line.

It's easy to pretend pickets are easy and fun, but the reality is although they are very rewarding and enjoyable a lot of the time, they're a hard slog and it sometimes feels like trying to chisel through granite. The random people who turn up just to have a go at you or call the police or let you know you'll never win get laughed at because that's all you can do when you're standing there but every one is a reminder that what you're fighting for is firmly against the odds. Just holding on to your union and calling pickets feels like treading water hard to stay afloat and then you're reminded you actually have to win? Not just tread water and avoid drowning but swim hard and fast enough to really get somewhere without knowing whether the water will stop holding your weight or if you'll just let yourself sink to the bottom and be forgotten about.

Talking to older leftists there's always been a mysticism around picket lines, partially because so many of the big battles of left mythology happened on pickets, but now I understand much more what it really means, going out there and standing firm on your own is terrifying and every single week you need more and more energy and joy just to hold your ground and not stay afloat.

I think I understand it a little more now, some mystical things in the left do need to be laughed at or fought, the quasi-religion of anarchism sometimes doesn't need more saints or rituals, but some rituals exist for a reason and some saints earned their place in our prayers.