Bearing witness is sometimes all we can do

Hello you freshly fallen snow.

Well friends: if the first two weeks of this year are anything to go by, we are all in for a wild ride in 2020...

And if I am being totally honest, between the wildfires in Australia, the threat of war and the increasingly head-shaking incomprehensibility of world leaders, I am embarrassed to say that I have felt myself pulling back from the news cycle and trying to find refuge from the onslaught of terrible. So many of the issues we are facing right now are enormous in scope and scale, and I have been finding it more difficult than usual to see a way to engage meaningfully.

But the Iranian airline disaster this week has shaken me out of my short hibernation. I have been thinking a lot about this tragedy, trying to wrap my head around the scope and scale of the lives lost, and searching for meaning as a passenger plane full of innocent people was 'unintentionally' shot down.  But of course, this effort is pretty futile. And I am struck by the use of words like "unintentional" and an insistence that "all is well". The language of diplomacy has its place-- especially in today's climate of hyperbole, pablum and misinformation.  But the dissonance between the language being used in the media and the anger we should all be feeling at this incredible injustice (and potential for further acts of aggression and retaliation by both sides) seems so jarringly inadequate. 

So instead of feeling placated by gentle words or retreating from the pain and fear around me right now, I have been trying to do what I can to share in the grief. Mostly, I have been learning about the children, women and men who so passed away so unnecessarily in this disaster. By witnessing their humanity in a small way, by sharing in the tragedy in a small way with their families and communities who are bearing the full brunt of this pain, as well as taking a bit of time to mourn our collective loss of so much beauty and potential, I hope to keep connected to the human reality of this tragedy, and consequently keep connected with and to others as the world continues to burn literally and figuratively.

All of this said, again if I am being honest, I still feel relatively immobilized and am mostly in a phase right now of sitting with the fear and sadness. I am not really sure what to do next or to contribute beyond my witnessing and sharing in the grief. So I am watching for things I can do to contribute to reversing the tide and getting meaningfully engaged in some of these global moments. If you have thoughts or suggestions, please send them my way! 

And if you feel like you want to keep thinking about how and why to stay engaged, I really liked this recent article from Rebecca Solnit about how change happens-- progress is not inevitable and it takes work (but slowly slowly, change can happen).  Or feel free to revisit this previous dispatch exploring the challenge of navigating when to accept what is in front of you and when to want more and take action.

But wait! Is all this talk of global grief a bit too intense on a sunny Sunday morning? Then please feel free to check out the Public Domain Review: “…an online journal and not-for-profit project dedicated to the exploration of curious and compelling works from the history of art, literature, and ideas. In particular, the focus is on works which have now fallen into the public domain, that vast commons of out-of-copyright material that everyone is free to enjoy, share, and build upon without restriction.”

Still too much realness?  Then check out this short video about how cookie cutters are made. I find it strangely soothing.

From one witnessing person to another, I am glad that we can mourn and (hopefully) act together. I hope you enjoyed this dispatch, and have a connection-filled week!

Until next Sunday,
The Earnest Platypus