Bridges

How are you doing?

I have had a tough week, reading and listening to far too much news about the violence at the Capitol, trying to learn the 'whole' story, trying to understand, trying to find some sliver of hope in the debris. I know I am at a heightened state of anxiety, because I've written very little this past week  - hardly opening my journal and finding it impossible to work on another project I have. I am too unsettled to read deeply, to enjoy a good book. 

My mind is like corn popping, bing, bing, bing, with a series of seemingly disparate images and memories - is there any connection with these images? 

now...I see him, I taught both his sons, I know him to be a kind, calm, caring man, a Capitol Police officer, there he is being rushed by the mob, thrown back, crushed in this sea of anger, his eyes expressing so much fear and terror

I know I must turn this television off
I know I must get away from these screens, this unending stream of ugly

years ago...my elderly mother, listening to the television, hearing about the beautiful blond woman who was murdered on a resort island, this sensational news story being shared over and over again, and every time she hears it, she exclaims in horror and fear because her dementia makes this story brand new

I know I must turn this television off
I know I must get away from these screens, this unending stream of ugly

now...he incites the anger, over and over with baseless claims of election fraud - this election was stolen from us! show some fight! take back our country! He actually told us months ago, "I will totally accept the results of this great and historic presidential election if I win"

I know I must turn this television off
I know I must get away from these screens, this unending stream of ugly

years ago...we are visiting relatives in Atlanta and head out for a walk, to the new bike path that has opened, and my brother-in-law says - "Here, take this with you, for protection," and he tries to give us a handgun 

I know I must turn this television off
I know I must get away from these screens, this unending stream of ugly

now...members of Congress scared for their lives, ushered to a secure location, every single one not knowing what is going on, in this heightened place of fear, much like on September 11, 2001, wondering, what is happening? My own congressman, Rep. Jamie Raskin, buried his son the day before this horror...what other painful stories were leaders holding on this day?

I know I must turn this television off

I know I must get away from these screens, this unending stream of ugly 

years ago - I am visiting her, looking at her collections, seeing the racist books, knick knacks. I'm a guest in her home. I go quiet. I ignore. I don't question. I retreat. I feel shame to know her, to be connected. I am speechless. 

over time, so many relatives and friends that I'm less connected to...I can't understand their points of view. I stopped trying. I cancelled Facebook. I talk to them less frequently, or not at all. I avoid the discussions. 

I know I must turn this television off

I know I must get away from these screens, this unending stream of ugly

now...this pandemic...so much isolation...so much less connection...losing ourselves in the internet, our little echo chambers, hearing the same things over and over and over, letting it be our 'real knowing,' rather than loving others, sharing and believing in each other. 

now...my heart hurts.  

I know I must turn this television off 

I know I must get away from these screens, this unending stream of ugly

We have to find a way to make bridges to others. 

How to trust in the goodness of us?

There must be a way.

How?

"We are indebted to one another and the debt is a kind of faith - 

a beautiful, difficult, strange faith. We believe each other into being." 

                                                 - Jennifer Michael Hecht

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I wrote this post for Slice of Life.  All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day, on Tuesdays. Thank you, Two Writing Teachers!