Imagining.

Apr 15

It has been quiet here for a bit longer than I am comfortable admitting. But if there’s one thing I have no shame in admitting, it’s my uncanny comfort in enduring the uncomfortable. Sometimes, this space is for random musings – it ebbs and flows with my mood, and other times it serves purpose as a true “digital diary”. Just a space to document moments for safekeeping so I can remind myself of times or feelings that inspired me. Because I still have grandiose plans of making time for myself, and every 6 months or so I like to flick through these pages and reflect. Remember. Remind.

Today I left work early for one of several recent doctor’s appointments that left me again, feeling lost and downtrodden. No answers. All normal. Everything’s normal they say…I’m so thin for having twins, and my hair is so beautiful that it must be a wig…these are things they say in innocent kindness, which should flatter any average woman in any average time. So anyway, I walked out of this appointment feeling empty and even questioning my sanity just a hair – when I checked my phone to catch up on the latest “critical emails” (isn’t that charming…critical emails) and missed calls. But before I could click on the email button or the message button, the NY times had flashed me an alert about the Boston marathon bombings.

Tragedies across the world have always intrigued me, sometimes to points of obsession. Everything is so chaotic and I suppose if I were to think for longer than a moment, I’d attribute my fascination to the seemingly constant juxtaposition of human atrocity and human empathy that fleck the pages of these stories with color, light and dark. People who know me closely, really closely have probably heard me speak about my fatal flaw of seeing the good in humanity, always. Even when humanity has turned it’s back on me. I guess what I’m getting at here, is I’m a bit confused when we as a people start questioning humanity. It’s like praying to a deity when bad things happen or good things happen, but never in between. I am certainly shocked when such sad things happen, unexplainable harm done to people. Good ones and even bad ones. But I never find myself questioning humanity. I mourn for loss of perception, loss of judgement or foundational concepts of “good” that I believe have no language barriers. But even when shocked…I must admit, I can’t stop seeing the good. All I want is to give. And when I give, I give myself.

Not one for tossing around the words “hope” and “faith” lightly these days. But I suppose I can’t stop hoping for a day when I see and feel a bigger slice of peace. I won’t ask for Miss America style “World Peace”. I just really can’t stop believing in better. Something, surely, must bring us together? Not just bring us together when convenient…but keep us together. For the in-between.

My heart goes out to Boston, and all places and people where hurt is felt. I bleed for them. But I dream for them too. And I won’t stop.

Read More