This blog post would more aptly be titled, “I’ve got nothing to say but I also can’t simply say nothing”. As I’m sure is the case for most of us in the U.S right now, getting back to a normal routine after the Las Vegas shooting feels challenging, disrespectful, impossible. As someone who has always experienced her emotions in a physical way, I feel our latest national tragedy as a heaviness, a weight bearing down on me that renders me inert and aching, sick and sore, in heart and soul and body. And while the meaning and purpose of my work depends upon my ability to find the beauty in our world and share it with others so that we can celebrate it together, it seems irresponsible right now to divert our attention away from the ugliness we face. So the normal routine remains on pause.
And really, what is “normal” and “routine” lately, anyway? From health care repeals and administrative corruption to hurricanes and the general hatred in the air, the news comes fast and furious and each story shakes me harder than the last. Chaos and despair are jockeying for position as our new normal, and while I’m utterly unable to accept that, I’m also utterly unable to wrap my mind around a course of action to change it. I’m not throwing in the towel and calling it quits, I’m just throwing up my hands and calling it a day. I’ll put one foot ahead of the other tomorrow. For now, I’m just standing here, letting you know that I’m hurting; and that I’d love you to stand here with me, if you’d like, until the weight lifts just enough for us to take one small step forward, together.