To quote a F/friend
Something in Becka's entry which was actually said by Jemma about Tom that I wanted to share:
"He didn't just die for his cause: He lived his life for it first."
This week is hard, will be hard. The sadness comes and goes on its own. Even in sadness I am reminded that my life is beautiful and I am so grateful for it: I am so grateful for those pieces of light given me. Today Hannah Mayer was completely drenched in mud after playing frisbee, and ran up to me and gave me a hug. I was wearing a white shirt. It was glorious.
A friend of mind in Tennessee emailed me, and I think what he had to say was really moving:
"This horror that has happened, this person who is not just
another body in Iraq but a treasured friend and mentor, should
give us more impetus, should give us a greater urgency, in my
mind, to heal our communities, to make the wounded whole, to bring
light into darkness, to bring wholeness to a fragmented physical,
emotional, and moral landscape. We've got a hell of a lot of work
ahead of us, our generation, but we can't let the horror or what's
happenning around us envelop our consciousnesses, keep us from
doing the Real Work that needs so desperately to be done. We must
have the strength to love even more, to have even more affection,
sympathy, caring for all the life and spirits around us. Look
outside, walk outside, look at the trees (have they started
blooming yet in Indiana?) look at the animals scurrying in them,
watch the sunset gleaming in the evenings- and I know you're
getting better sunsets there in the flatlands than me in the
hills- how can we deny the constant beauty and wonder, cycles of
enchantment that make up each moment on this planet. Even if us
humans are fucking absolutely everything up in our own society,
look at how the squirrel families are doing, the chickadees, the
geese, look at their strength, their resiliency against the
tempeteous nature of Earth and the destructive human nature that
threatens their homes, and yet they abide. The sunflowers, the
corn, the soybeans, still manage to grow in these days of
increasing sun, still participate in the dance of life, death and
regrowth.
We have to hold onto the beauty, the sheer hopefulness of that
beauty, that we have around us, and work, work, work from there."
"He didn't just die for his cause: He lived his life for it first."
This week is hard, will be hard. The sadness comes and goes on its own. Even in sadness I am reminded that my life is beautiful and I am so grateful for it: I am so grateful for those pieces of light given me. Today Hannah Mayer was completely drenched in mud after playing frisbee, and ran up to me and gave me a hug. I was wearing a white shirt. It was glorious.
A friend of mind in Tennessee emailed me, and I think what he had to say was really moving:
"This horror that has happened, this person who is not just
another body in Iraq but a treasured friend and mentor, should
give us more impetus, should give us a greater urgency, in my
mind, to heal our communities, to make the wounded whole, to bring
light into darkness, to bring wholeness to a fragmented physical,
emotional, and moral landscape. We've got a hell of a lot of work
ahead of us, our generation, but we can't let the horror or what's
happenning around us envelop our consciousnesses, keep us from
doing the Real Work that needs so desperately to be done. We must
have the strength to love even more, to have even more affection,
sympathy, caring for all the life and spirits around us. Look
outside, walk outside, look at the trees (have they started
blooming yet in Indiana?) look at the animals scurrying in them,
watch the sunset gleaming in the evenings- and I know you're
getting better sunsets there in the flatlands than me in the
hills- how can we deny the constant beauty and wonder, cycles of
enchantment that make up each moment on this planet. Even if us
humans are fucking absolutely everything up in our own society,
look at how the squirrel families are doing, the chickadees, the
geese, look at their strength, their resiliency against the
tempeteous nature of Earth and the destructive human nature that
threatens their homes, and yet they abide. The sunflowers, the
corn, the soybeans, still manage to grow in these days of
increasing sun, still participate in the dance of life, death and
regrowth.
We have to hold onto the beauty, the sheer hopefulness of that
beauty, that we have around us, and work, work, work from there."