When I lived in different countries (Germany for 1 year, Greece for 2 and Spain for 4), I stayed, at least at first, very unaware of the news of that country. Doing that, I felt as if I were in a kind of fairy tale, one with no bad wolves or witches. I felt safe, happy and daring. The minute I started to learn about the governments, problems, horrors, the golden light started to disappear, and eventually I did too.
Now, back in the states, I can barely read the headlines. I just try to enjoy my friends, nature and work in a bookstore, and know that eventually.....
I stay away from news that does not include what people are doing (or can do) about the problems. Otherwise what’s the point? If I’m feeding myself disempowerment and despair, how can I spread joy or other good things--the changes I wish to see in the world?
Also places have spirits, which can change just as humans’ can. It could be that it’s you, but it could just as well be that you’re picking up on real changes. Just because a place is good for us for a while doesn’t mean it’s good forever--like any relationship.
Love this -- thank you. I like this idea of the changing spirit of places and people --
I think what's tough about a lot of these problems is that it feels like there are things we can and should do (fight for gun control, for ex) but that those acts often feel ineffectual / impotent considering how long we've been trying to get some basic gun control laws passed -- and not succeeded :(
It can be disheartening, for sure. With stuff like that, if I start to spiral, I turn my attention to something good, however small, in my immediate vicinity, because succumbing to despair—swelling others’ despair with my own (though sometimes unavoidable)—doesn’t help. Victims and their families generally don’t want everyone else to suffer with them—for the suffering to spread. They want there still to be a better world beyond their pain, even if they can’t see it. One of the best ways to honor loss is to love what we have, to love who remains, however we can—which can simply mean sitting with them and bearing witness, to say, “Yes, this cannot be handled. Some things break us, and we will never be the same.” So someone is there for them in the release, the surrender. So eventually, when healing becomes possible, a healing world is there. Just because there are horrible things doesn’t mean there aren’t beautiful things. In fact the beautiful things, though sometimes more subtle, are ultimately more powerful. Where once there was murder, grass grows.
When I lived in different countries (Germany for 1 year, Greece for 2 and Spain for 4), I stayed, at least at first, very unaware of the news of that country. Doing that, I felt as if I were in a kind of fairy tale, one with no bad wolves or witches. I felt safe, happy and daring. The minute I started to learn about the governments, problems, horrors, the golden light started to disappear, and eventually I did too.
Now, back in the states, I can barely read the headlines. I just try to enjoy my friends, nature and work in a bookstore, and know that eventually.....
Perhaps the secret to happiness really is ignorance --
I stay away from news that does not include what people are doing (or can do) about the problems. Otherwise what’s the point? If I’m feeding myself disempowerment and despair, how can I spread joy or other good things--the changes I wish to see in the world?
Also places have spirits, which can change just as humans’ can. It could be that it’s you, but it could just as well be that you’re picking up on real changes. Just because a place is good for us for a while doesn’t mean it’s good forever--like any relationship.
Love this -- thank you. I like this idea of the changing spirit of places and people --
I think what's tough about a lot of these problems is that it feels like there are things we can and should do (fight for gun control, for ex) but that those acts often feel ineffectual / impotent considering how long we've been trying to get some basic gun control laws passed -- and not succeeded :(
It can be disheartening, for sure. With stuff like that, if I start to spiral, I turn my attention to something good, however small, in my immediate vicinity, because succumbing to despair—swelling others’ despair with my own (though sometimes unavoidable)—doesn’t help. Victims and their families generally don’t want everyone else to suffer with them—for the suffering to spread. They want there still to be a better world beyond their pain, even if they can’t see it. One of the best ways to honor loss is to love what we have, to love who remains, however we can—which can simply mean sitting with them and bearing witness, to say, “Yes, this cannot be handled. Some things break us, and we will never be the same.” So someone is there for them in the release, the surrender. So eventually, when healing becomes possible, a healing world is there. Just because there are horrible things doesn’t mean there aren’t beautiful things. In fact the beautiful things, though sometimes more subtle, are ultimately more powerful. Where once there was murder, grass grows.