Taking a Breath
I had written most of this week’s Substack by Saturday when the news came from Israel/Palestine. The piece I had written was about my tendency to see meaning in all things, at all times. Then the reports of the savagery, the killings and hostage taking in the towns on the border with Gaza and at the music festival, started filtering in. This terrifying narrative was followed by the prediction of massive armed retaliation against the civilian population in Gaza. Suddenly, there was no meaning. There are no words that I am able to contribute that might stop the flow of the river of blood. I cannot hope to soothe the fear and despair of the families of the elderly or the parents of young people taken hostage by Hamas. Nor can I save the two million people under its rule waiting for the bombs to rain down on their homes. At this moment, I am stunned into silence. Breath is the prayer that precedes speech. I am taking a breath.
Thank you, Carmen. Holding hands, too.
It's true and very difficult to acknowledge. Nothing to do, nothing to day.