Archives for posts with tag: stop the killing

We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim.

Eli Weisel, on the occasion of the award of the Nobel Peace Prize in Oslo, December 10, 1986

There’s not a lot else to say about that, is there? There are definitely some topics, events, and circumstances that don’t leave room for “being neutral” or “staying out of it”, aren’t there? Genocide comes to mind as a good example. How can a rational, emotionally mature human being be for genocide, ever? Trying to rationalize heinous acts by redefining them doesn’t change the reality on the ground, does it? I’m sipping my coffee thinking about war, and genocide, and violence generally, yes and even the bullshit pettiness and poorly managed individual anger that can lead so many individual human beings to commit some of the most terrible acts imaginable against other human beings. We put so much effort into teaching children to read, to write, to do basic math – and so little into teaching critical thinking or emotional intelligence. There’s no requirement for human beings to be so cruel, greedy, cowardly, or dishonest – we work pretty fucking hard to develop those characteristics in our children, and to reinforce them in each other. I find that whole idea pretty grotesque, honestly. We could do better.

Are we standing on the precipice of WW3? Who decides whether global conflict has risen to that level? Who decides whether any particular conflict in the world in which one nation seems to be taking bold steps to completely wipe out the population of the other is clearly definable as a “genocide”? Why the hell would we ever try to rationalize, justify, or excuse such horrible acts? “They’re our ally, so what they’re doing is not genocide” is not a sound logical argument. I sigh to myself and sip my coffee. I keep expecting humanity to grow the fuck up and stop using conflict as a tool, if only because it is wasteful, costly, and lacks any really good return on investment. It’s unfortunate (even tragic) that human primates are such greedy fuckwits.

…I’m cranky over this shit, but there’s nothing much I can do about it beyond not being that, myself…

I’m back to the routine of work. It’s a Monday, and the day begins well in this corner of the world. Ordinary. But… I’m not oblivious to the goings on elsewhere. The pointless violent bullshit mayhem and nonsense going on elsewhere taints my pleasant morning and seeps into my awareness. I sigh again. My headache is manageable. My back pain isn’t noteworthy. The day is neither too hot nor too chilly. It’s not raining. There are no bombs dropping, here. Still, I’m cross about this shit, and I feel my chaos and damage loitering in the background. I was once a soldier on a battlefield. Another sigh. I don’t feel free to cry over it; I’ve got a week of work ahead of me, and only three days to do it. Busy life. Errands. Housekeeping. Making meals to feed my family. Tending my garden in spite of the fucking deer eating my damned roses (again). Putting away laundry. Catching up on work email. Staying on top of my task list and doing my damnedest not to forgot some important thing or another. It’s much. Right now it feels like “too much” and I am on the edge of fury – not because there’s anything wrong here, I just feel the weight of the world and my concerns about global conflict keep trying to spin up, causing my anxiety to flare up as latent anger.

I breathe, exhale, and relax – let all that go by an act of pure will, and try to begin again. I repeat this several times. It’s seems clear I’ll be having to work at managing this for awhile, since the asshats in Washington DC can’t seem to behave as rational adults. Fucking hell. War? Still? Really? I keep thinking we have what it takes to be better than this, then I remember the assorted bullies, grifters, and morons we’ve elected (time and again, honestly) – we have a long way to go. Stupid is just every-fucking-where. I’m so over it.

…But… I’m angry about it, not sad, not demoralized, not in a state of despair. I feel bitter. Cynical. Disappointed in humanity. Annoyed by greedy billionaires and politicians. Frustrated by our Dunning-Krueger government. And? It’s not something I can “fix” through some specific individual act. Hell, I can’t even prevent other seemingly intelligent people from supporting this craptacular boatload of bullshit. It’s all very irritating – and I am irritable as a result.

Breathe.

Exhale.

Relax.

Begin again. Don’t take anything personally. Do your own best. Practice non-attachment. Results may vary. We become what we practice. There are verbs involved.

I sip my coffee and let it go. Again. The clock is ticking. We could do better. I can at least do better myself through my own actions and choices. That’s going to have to be enough to get by on, maybe for awhile. I’m not telling you what to do or how to think, or even making suggestions. I’m just sitting with my thoughts on a Monday morning, annoyed with what a shit show the world happens to be presently, and practicing some self-soothing, as much as I reasonably can, and hoping that maybe it helps me get over my irritable mood. There’s really nothing going on right here, now, that would lead me to be so fucking cranky. I can do better.

So, I do. Again. Breathe, exhale, relax. Let it go. Repeat as needed.

The sun rose red on this new day. I don’t know that it means anything, but it was quite a spectacular sight as I drove in to the office. It’s a new day. A new opportunity to be the person I most want to be. I’ll have to keep practicing.

I overslept this morning. Of course. I have an important meeting on my calendar, early. Not early enough to change the flow of my routine at all, just early enough to “feel different” and be on my mind, in the background. I dreamt strange dreams before I woke.

I dreamt that I worked somewhere quite different than I do, and that we worked uncomfortably alongside each other, me, “the boss”, and a bunch of classic stereotypical “mean girls” (basic bitches one and all with french tip manicures, heavy perfumes, high heels, and carefully sprayed hair-dos) – and “the other coworker”. She was a pleasant competent woman going through some difficult times, and in my dream I remember feeling affronted and dismayed to hear “the boss” making dismissive comments and giving her side-eye over absences to do with child-care and medical care. It was disappointingly real, and rather than endure more of that bullshit, I left for the day.

In my dream I struggled with my car seeming to go “too slow” – like, really slow. No traffic, it just went slower than I expected. At some point I noticed I wasn’t driving my car – I had taken someone’s scooter by mistake?! Weird. I don’t ride a scooter, never have. I found myself lost on what should have been a familiar route home and began to worry that I might be sufficiently late to worry my Traveling Partner. I called home and tried to explain about the terrible day, the mistake taking the wrong vehicle, getting lost along the way, and how I ended up in a strange town with a familiar name, but where nothing at all looked the same – and no gps. I was on foot by then, near an elegant restaurant, where I had parked the scooter planning to call the colleague whose vehicle that was to explain what had happened. I couldn’t reach her. I woke with a start, and realized I was dreaming, and looked around me to take stock of where I was.

I walked on, unaware that I was still dreaming. Everything around me was destruction and chaos. Desert (and deserted) communities flattened by warfare, all the way to the distant horizon. Pinkish-beige desert sands and remnants of stone buildings, and an eering silence broken by suspicious sounds of things scurrying unseen, and I walked on feeling a strong sense of dread and sorrow. A man approached me suspicious and angry, demanding that I identify myself, as I clearly wasn’t from around there. He refused to give me directions – or hope or reassurance. I kept walking. I was approached by another man, aged and twisted, who demanded I turn over my credit cards. He was pointing some kind of weapon at me. I burst into tears claiming not to have any credit cards, and starting to tell him all about my terrible day, which he clearly had no time for. He let me walk on rather than deal with my emotional bullshit.

I wandered into some sort of town-ish area, noodle shops and small restaurants, decorated with banners and signs in a language I did not understand, just opening at dusk, lights filling the cramped narrow streets. Cobblestones? I continued toward what looked like a main avenue, maybe somewhere familiar? I saw a road sign suggesting the freeway was somewhere ahead. I saw a lovely peculiar park, filled with irregular steps leading down into a verdant lush garden, with a small lake, candles everywhere. No leaves on the trees – winter? I tried to take a picture (to share with you) unaware that I was dreaming. I couldn’t get it to turn out, from any of the angles I tried. I turned to find my Traveling Partner arriving to help me find my way home. I felt incredibly reassured to have him by my side, and started to tell him about my strange day… He laughed, and held me close and wispered in my ear “you’re only dreaming, Baby, and it’s time to wake up, time to begin again…”

I woke from my peculiar dream, still not quite sure which was the more real circumstance… the here, now, or the dream? I went through my morning routine in a most routine way, and the commute was quite relaxed and there wasn’t any traffic; I’d hit the quiet pocket between batches of commuters rushing along on their usual timing, perhaps. The office is cold and quiet. My calendar is waiting for me – no surprises. Real life feels quite ordinary, and looking beyond the window, I see my car parked in the usual place. No scooter. No “mean girls”. My head aches ferociously – also quite ordinary and routine. A new day dawning, a chance to begin again. I sip my coffee grateful that I am not surrounded by the detritus and aftermath of war, but dismayed that this isn’t true everywhere, for everyone. There are whole communities left in rubble, unlivable, destroyed, and people struggling to survive there, any way they can. Those places just don’t happen to be here. Not yet. Maybe not ever (I can hope to be so fortunate, but I don’t think I can count on that).

Strange dream, I think to myself, reflecting on the details and wondering what I might learn from it. Am I trying to tell myself something, or was my brain just “taking out the trash” as I slept? I often wonder about dreams. I breathe, exhale, relax, and take a moment for gratitude and self-reflection before I begin the day in earnest. I have choices ahead of me. I hope to make only the most wise, most ethical, and most helpful choices I can – and to contribute in some small way to truly making the world a better place for everyone who lives in it. We’re all in this together, in spite of each having our own experience. I can do better than I sometimes have. I can begin again.

…So can you. It’s time to wake up.

I’m not even joking, this morning. Have you seen the news? A man in New Orleans drives a truck through a crowd, killing and wounding many…a man in Virginia with a “no lives matter” patch and a stockpile of more than 150 homemade improvised explosive devises at the time of his arrest…a man in Montenegro fatally shoots 12 people… It’s pretty horrible the quantity of killing going on. Let’s not even get started on the multiple genocides being committed around the world. It’s bad. Horrifying. Contributing to the horror is that it also amounts to an enormous distraction from other pretty terrible things going on in the world around us, that slowly degrade global quality of life (at a time when we have so much technology and resources available that we should be easily able to end disease and poverty, entirely).

…Humanity needs a “software update” to our operating systems…

While I intend that metaphorically, I am totally serious about it. It’s hard to “do your best” in the world, if you’re inclined to think that “your best” includes mass murder, fraud, dehumanizing cruelty, and petty bullshit justified by how right you think you are. I sip my coffee thinking about that. How to do better, I mean. I’ve been to war. I’ve seen combat. I’ve seen killing “up close”. I’ve seen violence and rage. I’ve seen the damage done by “othering” groups on the basis of some bullshit criteria. I’ve seen pain and fear and hopelessness – and the behavior it can produce. We can do better. Doing better unavoidably begins with each of us, individually, doing better ourselves – and then setting clear expectations with each other, and holding ourselves and our societies accountable to an ethical standard. I’m not saying it’s easy – I’m saying it probably begins with a change in thinking (and choices). I’m saying starting with a “software upgrade” could be helpful.

…When was the last time you read a book, an actual bound book that you held in your hands?

Consuming media through the internet doesn’t reach us the same way reading books does. There’s science on that. (I recognize the conflict in provide a link to an online source. It’s difficult to link directly to the printed word.) You could “do the thing“, of course, and read about reading (how delicously meta). I’m just pointing out that reading and doing are the two most direct means by which we human primates “upgrade our software”. We become what we practice – and it’s helpful to learn what practices we might do well to adopt, rather than wandering about just trying things out and breaking shit or hurting people.

Why am I even on about this? The current political climate, mostly, but also the nasty shit in the news recently. I just don’t get it – it’s the 21st century, how are people still so ignorant that mass killings seem like an effective solution to anything… or that an indvidual even has that right? So… yeah. Here I am. Reading books and doing my best to be a better human being today than I was yesterday – because I have learned more than I knew yesterday. It’s slow going, no doubt, but it’s better than not learning and growing at all, isn’t it? Steps on a path.

So far this year – and possibly over the past decade – the most important book I’ve read is On Tyranny, by Timoth Snyder. No kidding. It’s even pretty small. I don’t ask much of you, but this one is that big a deal; I’m asking that you consider reading it (please), and if not this book, then some other* that may advance your understanding of the world, and the part you play in the society we live in. Surely that matters?

If you knew that reading a book could change the world, wouldn’t you do it? Hell, if you even suspected it might be helpful, wouldn’t you make the attempt? Such a small thing… and another way to begin again. I know, changing the world isn’t easy – there are a lot of verbs involved, and our results vary. It can be discouraging. Still, we become what we practice, and incremental change over time is powerful. We’re all in this together… what are you doing to make the world a better place for all of us to thrive in? Something to think about, and I do. I sit here with my coffee on the first workday of a new year, dismayed by the bad news on display, and grateful to have a chance to begin again. Again.

*Please note; if the books you are reading make you want to kill people, or seem to justify the killing other people are doing, or somehow excuse other vile human behavior, you are likely reading the wrong fucking books. Choose your books with care; you’re putting that shit into your brain.

Another autumn morning, no sunrise before the work day begins and I’m okay with it. I’ve got these quiet minutes of solitude to reflect on upcoming holidays, ongoing genocides, and an important election. (Please vote, I hope that goes without saying.) The world feels like it has gone mad… maybe don’t contribute to the chaos, pain, and mayhem. Don’t add to the body count. Seems almost ridiculous to say such things, but… there’s a lot of killing going on, and it is being perpetrated by human beings. Don’t be one the killers. Actual people are committing atrocities against other actual people, and somehow finding a way to justify their participation in these horrors.  Don’t do that.

It’s morning. I’m okay, though I am aware of the world, and the pain, misery, and destruction we somehow refuse to end. It’s a foggy autumn morning. The sky overhead, though, is clear and starry. It gives me a brief hope.

Traffic in the fog.

Yesterday was a good start on a new week, that is already almost over. I’m over being ill, which is nice. Monday is a holiday, which I had forgotten, and the long weekend ahead feels like an unexpected treat. I sit quietly awhile, grateful for the small win. I gently shift my thoughts away from more worldly matters, and reflect with gratitude on the many things in my life that are working out well. Small moments of joy and satisfaction. Contentment. These things matter, too, and there’s an enormous reserve of resilience waiting within them. I breathe, exhale, and relax, giving myself over to a few moments of meditation, before I begin again.

Coffee time. A Saturday morning. Strawberry yogurt. An icy glass of water after a hot soak. Feet up. Quiet moment.

…So many practices and choices have gone into creating this moment of calm, it wasn’t “effortless” in the sense that I’ve changed a lot over the years, and am now this woman in this place, having this moment…

No, I’m not going to talk about “the war”, or any number of terrible foreign conflicts going on the in world. I know they’re going on. You know they’re going on. We all know that in subtle ways we (or our government) did or did not do some thing that contributed to the environment that allowed conditions to fester until conflict erupted. So… do better. Yeah. That’s a good start. Do better. Yes, you. Me, too. Demand better choices and actions from your government, too. Speak up if you are opposed to violence. (If you’re not opposed to violence, then, um… do better. Damn. Clean up your mess.)

If you start to get the sense that I’m “selfishly” “over-committed” to my self-care lately, your perception is not incorrect, but your interpretation of my motivation could use some additional nuance and a deeper understanding. I’m a veteran. I’ve served in active conflict. I’ve participated in warfare – both of the cold variety and the other sort. I’ve done some things that have scarred me. I’ve seen some things that have traumatized me. I’ve been through some shit. I’ve seen human beings do things human beings indisputably ought not be asked to do. I’ve seen other human beings pay the terrible price. There are no “good wars”. There is no justification for the slaughter of non-combatants. Ever. At all. On anyone’s (or any god’s) behalf. So. I’m hurting right now, and often wandering about triggered and working aggressively (and silently) to manage those “invisible injuries” and their consequences. I paid a price to serve my country and found out too late that my country not only doesn’t actually care about that, but also can’t be considered a “good guy”, or just, or moral, or righteous, or even, indeed, at all careful about who they decide to kill. Gross. I want no part of it. My sanity, right now, demands that I stay focused on my self-care. That too, is sometimes difficult, and I find it hard to write without thinking too much.

Take care of yourself. These are difficult times. Hug your loved ones. Laugh with your friends. Turn off the fucking news feeds unless you truly need that information to fucking survive. “War porn” such as the continuous live coverage of battlefields is unhealthy; turn that shit off. You already know there is conflict. Let that be what it is, and give yourself a fucking break.

…Sip that hot cup of coffee (or tea)…

…Put your feet up with that book you’ve been meaning to read, and enjoy that…

…Celebrate that professional achievement you worked so hard towards…

…Phone or email or write to that far away friend you’ve been meaning to get in touch with…

…Tackle that household project you’ve had in mind that vexes you every time you walk past it…

…Breathe…

We’re such elaborate fancy “extra” creatures, we human primates, capable of so much more than we even know, and yet… we manage to avoid addressing this deeply disturbing flaw that is our capacity and tendency for violence. It’s hard to believe we struggle so much to find, create, cultivate, or appreciate peace. Please – for the survival of all of us, do something about your anger, do something about your willingness to commit to conflict, do something about your sense of entitlement, do something about your willingness to accept violence in the world – or to commit it. Please. Do better.

…Every moment that I do better at being the woman I most want to be, the world gets just a little better, too. A little more pleasant. A little kinder. A little gentler. Imagine for moment the power of a global society each and all committed non-violence… please don’t tell me it’s not possible. If that’s your first thought, my reply is that you are one reason why that may be the case. Don’t let it be the one lasting truth of humanity… that we could not refrain from slaughtering each other or lashing out in anger. What a fucking disappointment that would be, when we are clearly capable of so much more, so much better.

…This is a good cup of coffee, on a pleasant Saturday morning… I, for one, am not taking up arms against anyone else, today. No killing. No assault. Just a middle-aged suburban woman with her feet up, drinking coffee and thinking about what to do with the rest of the day.

…Soon enough it will be time to begin again…