When problems are way beyond my scale.
When I feel helpless and without control.
When there’s no obvious, effective answer:
The only way to properly pay respects to lives lost, or lives in peril, is to fully appreciate my own. Instead of feeling guilt for having while others are lacking, instead appreciate fully.
Not the fluffy & blingy, but the essential.
The things that would immediately go missed whilst taking the last breaths of life.
That hug. That smell. That familiar life-long voice on the phone. My limbs and senses and the ever-changing smoggy sky. Breakfast. Second breakfast. Going to work in relative peace. Tea. Everyday luxuries.
To ignore and trivialize these things would be to miss the point of terror.
Where I am and as who I am… I can only do so much as far as truly “fighting” back.
But not allowing that terror to invade my own life, until it physically may, is my own personal little war against it.
I have no control over the world. But I have full control over my world.
To realize the moments, the minutes…to recognize that every second that I have is one that someone else no longer has, is tragedy. Yet to use that as a cause for despair within my personal, otherwise unmarred life would be even more tragic.
The point is to use my grief as a starkly star-lit realization of the things I’ve always known but never wanted to face.
We are mortal. Shit happens out of nowhere. Life is chaos and doesn’t adhere to reason or fairness.
This brings me back to reality. What really matters.
Using tragedy as awareness and appreciation and getting lost in the bittersweet-savory-salty-picante-delicious present reality… regardless… is the true, good, fight.
And whatever may come will find me spending my unknowing last moments in appreciation and joy and questionably appropriate humor.
And I could die at peace.
So until then…