tragedy

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Horrific violence. Lives lost. Limbs severed. Flesh punctured. Dreams shattered. And on it goes and goes and goes.

In the hours (and days) after a tragic event, we are inundated with reminders of the violent act. The same footage is shown again and again. I could likely mimic Bill Iffrig from Lake Stevens, WA as he stumbled and fell when hit by the percussion of the bomb blast while he ran the Boston marathon. But, I would rather put it out of my mind altogether.

I acknowledge and mourn the tragedy with exclamations of horror and even tears. Then, wrapping my mind around the event as best as I can, I compartmentalize it, tucking it away from of my stream of consciousness after surrounding it with healing, loving, positive thoughts.


A verse of a poem by friend, Kathleen Overby, says it well:

   I sequester myself in the garden, 

an antidote for the headlines

repeated over and over again --

as if only despair and destruction

could make the front page news.

Because life goes on and I choose to live in light and loveliness.

My sincere hope is that each living victim of the Boston marathon bombing will find a way to redeem this sad experience into something good - even if its simply recognizing the compassion and kindness and hope of the American people. 

luizberto.com