Writing Without Words
Read this on galpod.com.
I haven’t been writing in the past week. It’s been too difficult. I have no words. This post isn’t so much writing as an update.
As of the time I’m writing, my family is as safe as one can be in that part of the world. Many of them are on a scale of scared to horrified. Some of them may never feel safe again. We all hope no more children die, but know that they will.
The brutality of the attack, the specifics of it, were a shock–and still are. (I hope we never get used to these kinds of horrors). But to pretend this was unpredictable is folly. It’s the next step in an ever-escalating spiral of despair. And just like before, everyone will get used to it, return to a routine (adjusted for new escalation), and do their best to live, build, and love until the next step arrives because that’s what people do.
And I wish I could say that we’ll find a way. I still hope we will, but I’m not confident. Because this isn’t a story, and an uplifting, happy ending isn’t guaranteed. I know, though, that we have to keep working. We bury our dead, do what we can for our injured, physically and mentally, and never, ever lose our compassion. It can wobble, especially after a terror attack, but only briefly. Because when we lose our compassion, we lose our humanity. And that’s true for both sides.
From October 20th, I'm taking a few (planned) weeks off for the school half term. The writing sessions and newsletter will resume in November. If you want to join the writing sessions, don't forget to subscribe to my newsletter to get the link.