Sitting With Grief
My younger one fell sick this morning and had to be brought home from her elementary school right as I was getting started on this newsletter. Over at my colleague Zoe’s place, both her little ones are recovering from viral infections that took up a lot of her time this week. Then, this morning her baby’s daycare closed unexpectedly — too many staff members called in sick, apparently. We are in our winter print issue production sprint right now, so these season-of-sniffles-and-bugs setbacks are really stretching our capacities and adding to our stress levels. But, in a way, I’m glad our work schedules are packed and our babies are sucking up the last bits of our time and attention. Because it means I have other things to focus on, to hold on to, amid this crushing vortex of death and rage and pain and grief that has gripped the Middle East and is reverberating throughout the world. That doesn’t mean that I’m not seeing. That I’m not grieving, as I’m sure most of you are as well. I don’t have much to add to the charged discourse on the matter other than to reiterate what I have said in the past — in war, everyone loses, nature included. It’s never the answer. I don’t pretend to know what the answer is, but right now, I’m working on getting through the days, while also acknowledging the pain that we are all feeling, albeit in unequal ways. What are you holding on to, my friends, to make your way through these days when the fragility and impermanence of our lives are laid out so horrifically bare before us? I hope it is acts of kindness and care, however small. I hope it is community. I hope it is love.
|
