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Small thoughts

April 16, 2013

It’s not that there aren’t any words, just that there don’t seem to be any that are good enough. All of my words are wrong, but I keep writing anyway.

My heart goes out to the people and communities affected by the explosions in Boston. This didn’t set my heart racing and sinking the same way that the Newtown shootings did – which doesn’t mean I am even thinking about degrees of tragedy – just that it didn’t hit the same triggers for me that were hit in December.

But it’s still so very sad, and infuriating, and disheartening. My gut aches with outrage – sometimes it seems as if the cruelty and senselessness and misogyny and hatred floats up to the surface all at once. Except it doesn’t, there’s always more, when you look – in the past, going on under the surface.

And I feel like I should be doing more – putting on my armor and joining up with a band of Amazons and fighting evil, or giving up all my worldly possessions and dedicating my life to the study of non-violence. But I have work to do and a child to raise, dinner to cook, stories to read, dishes to wash, and a bedtime to enforce, and the hours of the day slip through my fingers like water. There are very few crime-fighting super heroes who are secretly moms, and this is why.

It’s not enough, I know it’s not enough, but right now I am just trying to make love a part of everything I do, to send positive thoughts into the world while stirring the pasta and coaxing Dot into brushing her teeth, while helping a researcher figure out how to use an e-book and typing up meeting minutes. I try to be the change in small ways, as much as I can. Today my life seems small and domestic and almost unbearably precious.

Love to you, Boston. So much love.

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2 comments

  1. I totally get this. As a runner this whole awfulness has affected me in a different way, a way that makes me feel fearful and violated and angry. But also so very weary. Like I just want to put my head down and cry, throw my hands in the air and give up.

    But I won’t, and I guess can’t. I ran yesterday morning, setting an intention for everyone affected by this horror, and really, everyone on the planet affected by fear and cowardice and violence. It’s about all I can do.

    Your writing resonates deeply with me.
    xo


  2. I don’t know, making love a part of everything we do is a lot. And moms may not be crime-fighting superheroes in disguise, but I don’t underestimate the snuggling and the bedtime stories and the making of meals and doing the day-to-day job of raising a child.



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