Good morning everyone, I am looking up recipes for blueberry muffins and got distracted. Yes, AM not was. This is part of the process of internet research, don’t cha know? But BAM. There is just so much tragedy in the world and so much estrogen in my brain apparently, at the moment. It has to come out.
There’s this Amtrak derailment, there’s apparently another earthquake and downed helicopter in Nepal. There’s everything else. Inequity. Evil. Lawbreaking. One of my top 5 people flies military helicopters. I used to and have dear friends who work in transportation. Those stories really dig into the deepest fears in my heart. I am at a loss for how to see the world.
I’ve relentlessly practiced thinking very black and white, as, over the years I watched my emotions pain me and those around me so much. But black & white thinking has profound limitations and is no good for anymore, as of today. I can see plain as the day that the world does not operate as a binary system. Sure, you can reduce it to that much, as I have, by relentlessly calculating the percentages of black or white in the particular gray situation you’re facing at any given time and rounding up.
But when one’s dealing with profound tragedies punching one in the face from one’s Facebook feed every 2 minutes as one sit in one’s comfort and privilege (and gratitude for such ease) a very profound discomfort starts to wash over. A confusion. A helplessness. A kind of terror. And I believe it all springs forth from a desire to feel that we can control something…anything…but most crucially, control the probability that we and the ones we love inextricably will live another week, day, moment…and without unnecessary burden. And yet, there are factors at play that make it impossible to do that. We simply aren’t God. We only have 2 hands. Many of us can barely do algebra. The mind is powerful…but effitol. Miracles are few and far between by the standard definition. Tragedies, on the other hand, are not. And so…before I can proceed with my blueberry muffins I have to choose. I have to solve this problem before my feet will move. Not everyone has this problem. The can make their feet move as these things still swirl in their minds. Not me. It consumes me. I have to figure it out. I have to SOLVE IT before I can move on to other problems, like how much flour and sugar I should put in a bowl. But today I think I must begin a new practice. The practice of standing up and letting the river flow around my ankles instead of throwing my entire body across it in an attempt to blow the flow. I need to start seeing gray.
The world just is. I didn’t make the world. I can’t remake or unmake the world. And yet this clashes with my belief that one person can make a difference. GAH!!!!! I suppose we could just say that one person can make a difference but maybe not ALL the difference. That’s palatable, right? That’s nice and gray and not very definitive at all. GOOD GRIEF, I WANT DEFINITIVE AND THE WORLD IS NOT DEFINITIVE. Wait wait wait. Making a difference I guess…doesn’t imply control. Wow. Just a tiny but satisfying example of how the mind (my mind) can’t assimilate ALL the knowledge ALL the time. Come to think of it, it’s like I’ve learned about art recently. I begin with an idea of the outcome in mind. But rarely does the real life outcome mirror the one I imagined. It’s good and I’m pleased…but it doesn’t always look like I expected it would and that’s ok. There are mistakes and flaws, but they merge into and become part of the beauty as well. That silly revelation has shifted the earth under my feet. The idea that a mistake could be ok. That it could exist in the tapestry of life and enrich it. The challenge and struggle of working it in to the existing scene is part of the beauty and part of the enrichment. And it cures into pride.
That apparently doesn’t help me with literal train wrecks. But at least my feet are moving.
And this is why I have a Facebook nanny.