One for:
Love
Work
Friends
Kids
Art
And I get to choose when and which ones to open up and when to close them.
I read the news. I hear all the terrible things that are happening in the world and somewhere in there it registers. But I’ve developed the ability to turn the volume down so low that most of the time it’s white noise. Doesn’t bother me. Tragedy is something I scroll past.
I used to cry a lot. As a teenager I’d write melodramatic poetry and listen to the Cranberries and Otis Redding. I felt my feels all the time.
But I’ve always been able to put them somewhere. To delay the reality of them.
As the Amazon burns I am wondering about what Pinot Noir I want to drink this weekend.
As I learn about doctors that have taken advantage of mothers and children I’m eating pizza and swimming.
A friend expressed a sense of powerlessness and hopelessness to me today. That we are destroying this beautiful world. And I honestly didn’t know what to say. Everything I could come up with sounded trite and half assed. Do your part. Go green. Don’t give up hope.
The world is literally on fucking fire and that’s all I could come up with.
I’m tired of compartments. I’m tired of pushing it down and away and aside. I need to say something. Do something. Organize something. But no matter what I can’t live in this bubble any more. It’s starts with being able to help a friend not give up hope. One by one we have to help each other keep that hope alive. Hope cannot exist in a compartment. We have to infect the world with hope again. We have to put out these fires. We have to save each other. We have to. There’s no other choice.
My friend said “what do I do?” It’s time to answer that question.
