She approaches me after class. Tells me she’s in law school. She and her peers are suffering from P.T.S.D. she says. From life.
She’s responding to a comment I made in class. I consider it pure luck that I have a positive position on the life we share at the moment.
Things need to break. The shit storm of happenstance and wrong actions that are instigating an onslaught of information on disaster is also precipitating a wellspring of solutions. That is a wellspring of love. That is the breath we choose.
The human condition shifts with awareness and it changes with our reactions. I see many hopeful reactions despite the barrage of sorrowful scenarios. We are looking for ways out. We are wielding sledgehammers. We are scraping peeling paint.
As radical politicians move the conversation from the usual banter, awareness grows. As spokesmen, leaders and newscasters inform people on pollution, poverty and violence against each other and the planet, quiet numbers choose to make things better in small and large ways.
It’s a life of small steps. We just step faster now. Diverse paths are rapidly emerging.
Some of us will be sacrificed no doubt. It was never easy to be aware.
But it would be less glorious to not be.
To blame nature’s weather or planets for our discomfort is shortsighted as well. Instability is nature itself. The perfect day will not last no matter how we pray for that.
Welcome to your place in the world. To smash and break it until it is right for you without harming any creature is artful. Perhaps that’s why the arts sustain us through hard times.
Remember, we are all artists. Your expression inspires mine. This is a beautiful instability.
Even trauma can generate beauty.