the other day, my husband had for some unknown reason set the alarm clock on 'radio'. it goes off at 7 a.m., and a male voice breaks into my sleep with the news of a father who had killed his wife, their 2 weeks old baby, their 6 and 9 year old daughters and himself during the night. they found the bodies scattered over a large area, so one might think that it took him a while to finnish. then the voice goes on the say that there will be no climate deal in mexico this year.
as soon as i had assembled my brain bits from getting blasted all over the bed covers, i considered the options people have when confronted with such things (by some called 'the world'):
a) crawling back under the covers with a knife to finnish it
b) seeing a doctor for a round of antidepressants
c) writing an article for the newspaper, fooling yourself into thinking 'i did something about it'
d) fastening one's blinkers even harder and continue one's compulsive focus on one's little, safe corner of the world (i.e. the size of a post stamp)
i've tried them all, except the obvious (i'm still here).
i still don't know what to do about it when it hits me.
so i don't read the news. i occasionally express some political passion. i sign petitions in hope of a better world. and at times i manically, obsessively, compulsively, care for the little piece of heaven i know, my little safe post stamp in this world. it's easy. it's beautiful, it's love. it's connecting me to a greater whole that i know is there, beyond the cruelty and greed of this world. the best cure for such a morning is to sit down with a cup of tea and knit. but somewhere, there's a great uneasiness stirring.
7 comments:
"this too shall pass" comes to mind.
try and make your little corner and that of your loved ones the best one possible. that's already lots.
I'm visiting here from the Corner View today, and so came upon your post "Fall."
I'm so in agreement with you on this post. I hated so much to be jolted awake by news or loud music, that I went out and bought myself one of those daylight lamp/alarm clocks. I'd much rather wake to a sunrise or bird chatter ~ and so this lamp has made my days begin better.
There are times (more often these days) that the weight of the world's bad news is so heavy, I go on a self-imposed news blackout for a week or two. I'm a generally cheerful person, but when I find myself walking around with jaw clenched and short of breath, I know I'm carrying it all on my own back.
Keep taking care of your space too ~ as taking care of ourselves is important too. I'm sure you know that, I'm just reminding you. :)
P.S. Sorry about the somewhat long comment here.
Thank you for your comments, Ninja and Conny. Most of the time the world 'out there' doesn't bother me, but sometimes... The worst part is when something feels very wrong when I'm trying to focus on something else. Like, 'KNITTING in the middle of an environmental crisis?!?'. But hey - knitting can be quite obsessive :)
I was just telling my husband this morning, that I am just about through with even NPR, our last media outlet beside our local newspaper, because I am tired of hearing all the bad...
i know how you feel. I on the other hand am "forced" read the news, at least in the middle east, and it can be addictive. though i do try to stick to politics, it can sometimes be too much. then i do watercolor painting with my kids. or bake. i don't think that unfair, or wrong, or even hiding away, it is our responsibility to make our surroundings beautiful, do what you can and keep living. life is beautiful, even in areas you would think wouldn't be, and we are raising the next world leaders right?
Thank you, Natalia :)
Ugh. I, too, find I avoid the news for just these reasons. My mother says it is denial. I disagree. I'm perfectly aware of these things, but I choose to focus my energies on the positive.
Lead by example. Care for your corner with love and light (as I will mine). And hopefully all the well-cared-for corners will eventually converge. Like plants in a garden, the healthy and strong will shade out the weeds.
The words of a naive optimist? Perhaps. But how else to carry on?
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