Trailer Trash


An interlude to mowing the lawn [Boston 2013] (Read 44 times)

Uh oh... now what?

    I followed the Boston marathon, exchanging blurbs back and forth via

    e-mail with folks from all over the country, and then, the marathon
    finished, I disconnected and went to mow the yard.


    About halfway through the mowing I took a break. I came in about two
    minutes after the first headline about the explosions. I checked a few
    e-mail responses, posted a notice in a couple of places, but could see
    no sense in engaging in the conversation. Kathy went to watch the news
    coverage. I went back to the mowing. Work helps when the unraveling of
    things gone terribly wrong happens.


    The mowing continued with scattered thoughts of crows and running, hunter
    and prey, harrier and sparrows; a degree of innocence raped; layers of
    horror, shock, and awe comes in on now blanked faces--nothing prepares the
    minds for this. Nightly news always has a remote for separation. Real
    life has no remote, no pause, no replay--only things that interrupt for
    good or bad with little, or no, forewarning.


    The cheapened price of life and lives in today's world fails to inure us to
    this the unthinkable, the unimaginable, the unbelievable, the totally real,
    and just as totally unreal.


    There is no reset button, only pictures that freeze pain, agony, and hope.
    A precious few are helping. The ordered chaos of triage and helping hands.
    Most can't help. Most can only watch, numbly ignoring the general and
    imprinting details whose horror will block many sunrises.


    On 9/11 I came in from a morning's run and turned on the television to
    see the weather forecast. I never saw the weather. There was an airplane
    crashing into a building.


    Boston barely intruded on my watching Jupiter and the moon last night. I
    could see the Pleiades and tried to recall the seven names. Tonight I am
    sorrowful for those harmed by the senselessness of man and, like that day
    when I could not see the weather forecast, tonight I will not be able to
    see the beauty of the night sky.


    This afternoon, as on that September morning in 2001, I looked eastward and
    wondered why. It isn't like I will find an answer. It will not matter who,
    if anyone, they catch. The testimony, if any, won't fill the void in the
    wounded hearts. There will be no words of explanation that a soul will
    understand. There will be no words to lessen the hurt and the wondering why.


      True, John ... there is no answer to why. It was the one element of Obama's statement that chafed ("we will find out why they did this"), not because I found what he was saying objectionable from a political point of view, but from a philosophical or humanistic point of view.


      Why did this happen? There can be logic (Sadean logic of pure ruthless rationality), but no meaning other than entropy to the creation of chaos, the destruction of innocent lives and the disruption of joyful living. Evil, and I use that word quite intentionally, is part of the human condition and always will be. As we become more interconnected through commerce and technology, if we do not become socially, humanly connected the alienation leaves more room for those who would divide us and do us harm.


      Kindness is a gift, an antidote to the poison of doubt and hatred that others would sow in our lives.


      To believe in the power of kindness, love and community is not naive, it is an act of positive resistance.


      You are all in my heart, as are all those in Boston. Blessings to you all.