Archives for category: War and News of War

I am sipping my coffee quietly this morning, and scrolling through my Facebook feed. This morning I am aware that in about 30 minutes (the time it took me to ‘catch up’ since last time I looked at Facebook) I have built ‘a snapshot of the world’, complete with outrage, disapproval, offense, defense, humor, ire, and an occasional ‘what the fuck?’ moment. Well, it gives the appearance of being ‘complete’ – and it comes to me ‘endorsed’ by my friends, so it must be accurate, too? Right? Hardly.

Some time ago I made a point of cutting way back on media consumption, primarily because revenue-driven sensationalized media reporting of current events was actually doing me emotional damage and preventing me from finding contentment and joy by keeping me emotionally aroused and my PTSD symptoms simmering in the background all the time – no rest. The ‘easy’ part – and it isn’t easy – has been turning away from obvious ‘news’ media outlets; I have no cable connection, no network television access (by choice), and I stay away from ‘news’ sources most of the time (and when I do read news, I seek out the sources that are most strictly vetted, and often from foreign sources for an outside perspective). Still… there’s Facebook. I maintain a lot of distant connections with family and long-time friends through Facebook. It’s harder to avoid being exposed to the outrage machinery as I scroll through my feed – and I’m still so vulnerable; these are people who matter to me, what matters to them must also therefore matter to me… right? Ouch.

I’m learning. It takes time and practice to refrain from reading the articles. Many times the headlines are sufficient to determine whether there is implicit – or even explicit – bias in the source material, or the writing (sometimes just checking where the article came from is enough). I practice applying the same rules to items linked through Facebook that I do any article I might happen upon online. If a topic or event looks noteworthy, or of sufficient interest to read further – I leave Facebook, Google it, and read about it from the least biased most vetted best cited sources I can identify – instead of the linked article (reading the linked article only if I intend to comment on it). It’s time-consuming – and I don’t always have time for that. I will note that not once have I ever actually regretted not reading about some tragedy, or some political maneuver, or some socialite’s faux pas, or… you get my point, I’m sure; living life is far more engaging than reading about the latest outrage.

Outrage is profitable. Outrage generates a lot of revenue, and a lot of voter interest. Outrage is also damaging to the person experiencing it in the moment, and long-term lingering outrage takes a long-term lingering toll on our contentment and quality of life; it colors our entire experience. I’m just saying – when you allow your heart and mind to be taken over by outrage, whose interests are you actually serving? It’s a worthy question. I am answering for myself by walking on – I don’t need it. Your needs (and results) may vary. 🙂

In 30 minutes on Facebook I am easily able to form an impression of the world – the whole world, colored by the opinions of my friends list. I like my friends – else why would they be there in my friends list, right? Even so, I don’t think there’s much value in seeing the world only as it is limited and filtered through their impressions, their outrage, their filters and biases and then calling that ‘the world’. It’s a rather narrow view. A proper snapshot of ‘the world’ would be complete – and random, and messy, and unexpectedly exotic – and mundane – and quite probably with very little outrage going on at all, in any one moment or place, generally. My traveling partner has made similar observations recently, and it’s on my mind; how do I best make use of this awareness to increase my quality of life day-to-day?

There is power in perspective, and in choice.

There is power in perspective, and in choice.

I think I will start the new year a new way; I will refrain from linking news articles in Facebook (knowing that topics of interest will reach my friends in other ways from other sources). I will refrain from reading them there, too, since there are other better sources for news when I wish to ‘get caught up’. I will make more time to connect with people directly about things that matter to us in a positive way, instead – real conversations with human beings. I can’t shut down the global media outrage machine, but I can sure refuse to be a cog. 🙂

Today is a good day to be the change I would like to see. Today is a good day to use some verbs. 🙂

The night is cracked open by the sound of sirens in the neighborhood. Someone is having a difficult evening. They’re not alone. There are other people alone or struggling in the night, frightened, angry, sad humans out there in the early darkness of winter. Dark times seem darker when it is also cold.

I had been writing when my traveling partner called, most recently. We spent most of the day together, many hours hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. After he left, I got first one call, then another… trying times over there, and I am worried for him. The sounds of sirens now, nearer by, keep pulling me back to older moments than those, threatening to mix the new and the old, or stitch them together. I save my draft. All those wasted words; too personal for publication, at least in this moment, now… But, it’s still this moment, now, and only this one. I breathe deeply, calmly, and watch a demon fall. “You have no power over me, now.” I whisper silently, with considerable satisfaction and a feeling of strength. (No doubt this too will require some practice, and there will be verbs involved.)

I am okay right now, aside from being concerned about my partner. It’s hard to watch him being mistreated. I don’t much feel like writing, and can’t do much to provide real assistance beyond offering a welcoming safe haven from any storm, a warm and accepting embrace, and my engaged presence. I will likely spend the evening with the phone near at hand, in case of an emergency call, and hope that ‘things blow over’, or that love will prevail.

 

I am groggy this morning. As I scrolled through my feeds, skimming headlines, I felt a sad tug on my heart to see so much violence and hate. It’s hard to watch. Fear and anger escalating with the excessive media use of buzzwords and sensationalism to gain readers (and dollars), and more or less mostly innocent citizen bystanders (consumers) caught in that sticky web of emotion and salesmanship. I found myself actually feeling physically ill, and surprised by the intensity of my reaction – then realized I was probably nauseous from my medication this morning.

It is easy to be swept away by powerful emotions.

It is easy to be swept away by powerful emotions.

I heard footsteps run past my front door, which is unusual at any hour in this neighborhood, and somewhat alarming at 5:45 am. Combined with the negative headlines, I feel my anxiety creeping up, and ‘home defense’ drifts across my thought-scape. I recognize the trend, and pause for a few deep breaths, taking time to re-engage in ‘now‘; I am okay right now, and there is nothing in my real experience of the  morning to cause me fear or hurt me. It’s pouring rain outside, and a stranger running by is likely just trying to get from the parking lot to the front door without being drenched. Fear doesn’t care about reason, and I find more often than not that taking time to be present in this moment right here, and awake, aware, and mindful there is nothing for fear to build on. There are plenty of terrifying ‘what-if’ scenarios I could run in my head, and even make life decisions on, but it seems a foolish waste of limited mortal lifetime, when there is also so much joy in which I could invest, and partake.

Violence does exist. Choosing not to live minute-to-minute defending myself from fear of violence is one of many possible choices. I have friends who choose differently, and live prepared for violence with an ample arsenal of firearms, open carry permits, and weekend visits to the range for target practice just in case violence ever visits them at home. I have other friends who choose to live with the fear of violence, and without taking any particular steps to secure their own safety, just taking on the fear itself, deepening and investing in it, and letting their fear drive their decisions and rhetoric. I have friends who do neither; they are not convinced that violence exists in any real sense, they have experienced little of it themselves and for them it is very far away and abstract. I know people, they are not those I would call ‘friend’, who live differently with violence; they are violent. People who lash out in anger, seeking to do harm, to injure, to be avenged, to punish – they see themselves as righteous and justified, doing what is ‘right’ or ‘necessary’, and don’t recognize the damage done as being in any way wrong. I see them out in the world, snarling at their loved ones on cell phones, or on the bus, spewing righteous anger and vexation in interactions with strangers – people they couldn’t possibly know well enough to hate – and treating their loved ones even worse. The headlines tell the tale of each of the many sorts of human beings interacting with each other. Violence added to the mix generates sales headlines. Scary sort of world we’ve built, isn’t it? We’ve chosen this. You and I – all of us together – this is the world we have made.

How will I make the world better, myself, in some small way? How will you? If enough of us just keep at it, can we turn this thing around? It probably begins with small simple things, like not yelling at your partner in a moment of anger, or like really listening when a woman is talking about the challenges in her experience of being female, or like taking a deep breath and not freaking out when something goes wrong, and maybe also putting down the handheld devices and making eye contact – and conversation. Setting aside the inflammatory news articles might also be a good start, and maybe sharing positive news more often than negative news could be helpful, too. We could cast our vote with great care, really thinking about the consequences of our choice, by thinking ahead to ‘our’ candidate winning, and imagining the reality of every one of their stated policies becoming real – what would that be like for us? For those people over there? For someone else? We could fact check our fears, too, that might be useful, and refrain from getting into emotionally driven arguments with people when neither involved party has an educated insight into the issues, rather than just spewing emotional garbage at each other until someone gets hurt. We could approach every interaction with another human being as though that other human being is (they are) every bit as human as we are, ourselves – and fully due the same consideration and courtesy we would enjoy experiencing, and then behave that way. We could each simply not kill someone today, or tomorrow, and also refrain from voting for – or hiring – people who seem to favor violence, killing, or incarceration as a solution to the world’s problems. We could invest more of our global resources in human life, than in ending it – both right here and home, and over there on foreign shores.

Domestic violence is not a separate thing from war. Child abuse is not a separate thing from terrorism. Hate is hate. Fear is fear. Abuse of power isn’t less abusive when it is between a parent and a child than it is between an elected leader and the constituency, or between law enforcement and a citizen – but we’ve trained ourselves to excuse so much violence in the day-to-day social landscape that we are ill-equipped to reject it at all. Enraged screaming, slamming things, and breaking stuff at home is not a far distance to travel to murder – and tolerating it socially by making excuses for domestic violence is not a far distance to travel to sending strangers children to die in foreign wars by voting for fear-mongering xenophobic extremists. Seriously. We are each so very human… Fear is easy. Anger is easy. Hate is easy. We have the potential to offer each other so much more. Choose. You can, and so can I – and we do.

This seems glum this morning. I don’t mean it to, honestly. I feel rather hopeful – the very power to choose that finds us here with the world in the state it is,  is so profoundly powerful that we have each moment, this moment, every moment, to choose differently. I guess that while that is indeed incredibly hopeful and promising, it’s a tad glum too, because the people who could benefit the world by choosing differently than they do are not likely to be the people who read the words I write – and I am just one voice. I am regularly cautioned that I am ‘not being realistic’ or that I ‘don’t understand violence’ – often based on the assumption that I have little experience with it. It’s frustrating – sometimes frustrating enough to evoke actual anger, a powerful reminder of how easily we could be tempted to stray into the realm of violence ourselves, in a moment of emotion.

Be love.

Be love.

Here’s the thing though, the hopeful bit, we really do have the power to choose change. It’s a good day to change the world.

I am waiting for water to boil, and contemplating the peculiar puzzle of refugees, suffering, and fear. I don’t find myself at all concerned about refugees aside from the obvious; they are human and need homes, safe places to sleep, nutritious food, a sense of place, and a source of fulfillment and productivity. Don’t we all, regardless where we live, or where we came from? People.  The concern and stress for me come from the unavoidable awareness of how badly people treat themselves every day, right here at home; what else could be the source of so many having so little compassion?

When the path seems most clear, sometimes the footing is treacherous.

When the path seems most clear, sometimes the footing is treacherous.

Personal experience tells me it is actually incredibly easy to be without compassion if I am unable or unwilling to show myself compassion as a starting point…if that’s true of others also, it suggests that a great many people treat themselves so poorly they have nothing left of compassion, trust, or kindness for others. That’s worth being concerned about – it’s very sad.  Who am I to criticize? Well… I’m human, too, and feeling the sting of associations that lack compassion isn’t foreign to me, and it sucks. So – I think I can safely say more people more easily able to experience compassion (toward themselves, too) has value. So…okay. Now what? How can I really help? What about you? How can you help, too? I don’t really have answers to all those questions, but I have a thought… Isn’t demonstrating compassion a great start? Showing ourselves compassion, too? Modeling the behaviors that feel so right to me at this point in my life, bringing them to life in the world – isn’t that a good starting point? Treating others with compassion sets a tone – and sets an example. So does treating myself with compassion. There are still verbs involved, and sometimes it is worthwhile to pause and really consider myself in the moment; is my reaction in the moment to what is foreign or new really appropriate to the actual known circumstances? Am I living in fear – or in love?

There is so little need to struggle. It may not seem so in some moments, but I have found it is generally vastly easier, and more productive, to give myself a break, show myself some compassion, and to be generous with kindness than to put that same energy into struggling. The world is colored in a very different way if I face the struggles I see with questions, instead of assumptions. How about this one, “How can I help you right now?”

I can look back on a younger me who was a very different person than the woman I am today. Her world was very black and white, clearly defined, with obvious good guys and bad guys, and fairly strict rules of conduct suitable for breaking regularly. She didn’t have much compassion, and wasn’t at all aware of that lack. She treated people fairly callously, and treated herself far worse. She expected the world would treat her well, because all the fairy tales said so, and when the world didn’t follow the plot closely, she felt cheated, betrayed, and wounded. I sound disappointed with her, perhaps, but we’ve come a long way together, and although I can’t quite bring myself to call her well-meaning from this vantage point, I can see her potential shine so brightly across the years. She struggled more than necessary, but didn’t know better, and she had a lot to endure, and to overcome. Did she do her best? Well – I’m sure she thought so then, whatever I think now and it isn’t fair to judge her harshly from the vastly improved perspective I have on a quiet Tuesday at 52; I’ve tidied up a lot of the chaos and damage that she waded through every day.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this – this, too, is a journey. I think I’m just saying… people are  human. Each of us. All of us. Any of us. The cost – and value – of human life can’t be measured on a scale we can really understand. Don’t turn humanity away. Don’t turn your own humanity away. Make yourself welcome in your own experience, at least, and having done so with a sincere, genuine, and compassionate heart… can you still look at your neighbor, or your fellow human being from afar, and say ‘they are not worthy of my help’? Whoever ‘they’ are, they are also human, also worthy.

Anyway. There’s already a single word for this entire post.  “Namaste”

It's your path... you choose your direction.

It’s your path… you choose your direction.

I am no stranger to violence. It saddens me deeply every time I learn there has been yet another horrible attack on human life. It sickens me to acknowledge that each and every one represents a pinpoint of darkness, a flaw in a gem of great beauty; we are so very human, and these unrelenting repeated acts of terror and violence are willful – they are choices. Human beings choosing to inflict violence upon other human beings. Being hurt enough, angry enough, to want to choose violence isn’t foreign to me; I am so very human. To enact violence on another person as an actual action, an act of will following an intention, isn’t something that seems so easy, or so obvious. I sometimes feel quite certain humanity is entirely doomed if we do not find a way to soothe the souls of the injured, the enraged, the powerless – and learn to treat each other, one and all, truly well and with great kindness and compassion. I wonder why the verbs involved are not embraced more freely, and with greater enthusiasm?

I look out into the darkness for signs of light.

I look out into the darkness for signs of light.

These are just words. There are verbs involved and I will surely do my part; I will not kill anyone today, or lash out violently in anger, or frustration. I will not impose my will on anyone else by force or coercion. I can do at least this much myself to end global violence; it’s no small thing, and if we each make the same choice and commitment, well – you see how that works out, right?

Interconnected, we are all in this together, and each having our own experience.

Interconnected, we are all in this together, and each having our own experience.

I am relaxing over my morning coffee, grateful that this small peaceful space feels safe and secure. Brunch with a friend, some small bit of shopping later. I reflect with gratitude on how unlikely it is that I will meet with violence, and remind myself that allowing the violence in the world to win begins with the smallest thing – allowing it to change my experience of this moment, here, now, slowly letting it become my experience, coloring all things. I won’t be doing that.

Today is a good day to treat each other well. It is a good day to begin again, and to walk on from what not worked out well before. Today is a good day to choose love, to be love. Today is a good day to change the world.