“Tales of War and of Waste”

The last two weeks have been filled with chaos and tragedy. I make this statement rather generally; you can get more specific if you like, but I don’t really need to. When there’s a hurricane, we don’t really spend too much time on any one tree that’s been blown over. The aerial shots are enough.

Our lives have been halted by breaking news that is jarring, emotionally wrenching, and utterly devastating. That aerial shot is enough as well.

I feel like I want to turn off the alerts, silence my devices, and slip into the solace of the sounds of a cello, maybe, played in an empty auditorium, where the haunting low notes, drawn out in sorrowful lines as the bow draws against the strings, wrap me in some somber warmth. An empathetic hug from the world reminding me that we are in this together; we’ve been here before. 

That despite the sorrow, we are not alone.

Ugh. Such a trope-y little phrase these days, but I mean it.

Maybe there’s a better way of saying it, though.

I’m watching the same storm with you.

The wind burns my face as it burns yours.

Your footprints in the sand are mine.

Nah to all. I’m sticking with “we are not alone.” At least for now.

Anyway, I’ve been reminded in these last two weeks of a few things amidst the tales of war and of waste through and beyond our social media channels.

First, every moment in our lifetime – every single step on this life journey – is filled with the bickering battle between opposite forces. One is trying to hold on to something, and the other is trying to wear it down, break it apart, make it give up.

And it is relentless; it will keep coming at you until you surrender.

It’s like an incoming tide on the bay chopping away at the shore’s marshy grasses. Every 12 hours or so, it returns and bites at the grasses rooted in the mucky, sandy soil. They know the ebb and flow, and they stick together – close – to hold on.

That is exactly what we need to do. We, the marshy grasses rooted in that mucky soil need to hang on, stick together, and stand up the relentless chop-chop of the chaos.

It’s our choice what we do with those moments. Each and every one of them. Sometimes, we’re going to falter, lose our grip in that soil, and feel weakened by the blows. But those moments need to be few and far between; they need to be the exception in the ebb and flow.

And, our fellow grasses around us need to help us hang on as we need to help them resist as well. That’s how we do it.

Kind of reminds me of braiding friendship string to make bracelets. Individually, each of those threads can’t resist much; tied together with 6 or 7 other colors, and you’ve got quite the formidable bracelet-bond.

(Maybe instead of “we are not alone,” there’s “We are a bracelet.” –No, but getting closer to something….)

The other thing that I’ve been reminded of is this: Our country has been down this road before. Plenty of times, in fact. We’ve been tested, and tested, and tested again. It’s the people who have resisted that have made the difference, that have fought for and opened and preserved the rights for others due to their relentless belief in what is right for all.

Diversity is not a bad word. Equity is not a bad word. Inclusion is not a bad word.

Say that out loud and repeat.

Gain strength in reaffirming what is good and right for all.

Nobody can take that inner strength away from us. Oh, they’re trying. And they are going to continue to try. But if we are relentless, we will persevere. We will rise from the tales of war and of waste, just as we have time and time again.

Just be strong. Like the rooted grasses, the braided threads.

We are rooted. We are braided. We are one.

(We are not alone ….. YES! That is it! We Are ONE.)

*About the title: Lyric ripped from “Don’t Dream It’s Over” by Crowded House.