Living in the Tension
bombs and blueberry pie
We are all dealing with some level of now-traumatic stress.
Waking up to another massive shooting rampage. Another night of bombings. Yet, somehow almost sardonically we are supposed to carry on. Holidays. Work. Casseroles. Emails. Deadlines. Sunrises. Giant orange moons. Candy.
As often happens on
this week, I connected with a fellow writer who wrote an incredible article about her own feelings of living in the tension of today’s world. writes:“We used to get breathers between bad news. It was always rumbling from nearby streets and distant shores, but it was so much easier to avoid the fault lines. 6:00 pm was Bad News Hour. We digested grainy clips of war with full bellies. Disaster arrived sandwiched between commercial breaks. And then we turned it off until the next day.
It’s different now. The template shattered when we weren’t looking. Now, beauty and grief and wind and sun and delight and sorrow and concern and indifference and peace and war co-exist on a regular Tuesday.”
I’ve hesitated to write about the tension because of the tragedy of the juxtaposition.
Words aren’t weighty enough.
How can we continue with our day-to-day while people are suffering on the other side of the world? While they are suffering down the street? While the world is so complicated.
Confusing.
Chaotic.
If I close my eyes I can almost feel the guttural hunger. Taste the dust. Hear the rockets.
With my fingers, I mix the four and butter, adding a pinch of salt. I sprinkle flour on the old countertop and roll, roll, roll, using my weight to smooth a thin piece of dough.
“It’s fragile, don’t touch it,” I tell my daughter who lingers and watches.
I stir the blueberries in the pot, watching the purple heat escape and the sugar disappear. It smells like my dad’s birthday.
Waiting, waiting, waiting, as the water disappears, too, like hurried breath on a cold morning.
In 2022, I was a fellow with the Vital Voices Visionaries Leadership Program and this past week I opened my email to find an incredible message from two women who are on the frontlines of working for peace.
What a joy it is to be connected to other women around the world who care about things like war and justice. Who work towards peaceful solutions in their own places.
I’m not sure what to say or do or think right now. Other than, to keep on living. Living right here. Right now. With blue-stained fingertips.
Keep on connecting with you and with other women out there like you who are sharing your voices. Singing your songs. Taking action to make our world a more peaceful and connected one.
I can bake a blueberry pie and think about my dad and miss him.
I can hug my children and thank God that just for today they are here and I am here and we are safe and warm and well-fed.
I can pray that love captures the horrific realities that innumerable mothers are facing right now.
We can, like Kate J. Meyer said so beautifully,
Find [our] cushion and hold it tight. Seek out anything that allows [us] to trust that the cushion is real.
This week may you live in the tension. Remember. Connect. Live. And despite it all—hold onto hope.