Stepping In Tragedy

Today marks the beginning of Reverb13, an annual journey that focuses on reflecting on the past year and anticipating what is to come. This is my third year involved in the project, and I can’t wait to share all that I have experienced, learned, and have grown in these last twelve months. Feel free to join me!

One event-something that happened outside of your community that either changed you, or at least impacted you. 

Bits and pieces first started streaming in through Twitter with the hashtag “Boston Marathon.” I remember watching General Hospital in my apartment and being annoyed at how it had been interrupted by an ABC News Brief, where reporters said that there had been some kind of bombing during race. Camera crews showed medical teams and smoke and various forms of chaos. Immediately I could only think “Oh God, not again!” as Newton and Sandy Hook was still on the minds of many. But my thoughts were done from racing and my heart was far from hurting. 

Days passed and details kept pouring in; by Wednesday or Thursday I was also aware of the explosion in Waco, Texas. I’m pretty sure I was in a now-familiar fog that practically gets draped around me like a cloak whenever I hear bad news. I began texting anyone and everyone that I knew, friends or family; they were basically variations of “I love you.” Most vividly was the one I sent to my dad, where we both agreed that this particular expression was not used enough between the two of us. I listened to “Hole In The World” by The Eagles several times over, which was actually written in reflection of September 11th. The question of what’s next? frequently came up in my thoughts. 

It’s crazy to realize that nothing is truly safe anymore; that simply being in public poses some kind of threat of danger. I don’t recall what blog or article I read this in, but the author mentioned how several generations have been living in fear for the last decade or so. From Columbine to 9/11, to all that came afterward and in between, that fear has yet to ease. Now that I look back on it, something awful has happened (on a mass level) almost every single year since I was a freshman in high school. People raise their voices in justice, but it pains me to see that such devastation is now being accepted as something that is normal. 

And you know what? It shouldn’t be.

 Death is a part of life and everyone goes through it, this is unspeakable. Just because you’re angry at the world does not mean that some people in it deserve to have their lives taken, and in a gruesome manner on top of that. But admittedly I don’t understand a whole lot regarding the debate on the gun control, so I’m not going to say a whole lot on that other than I think there is more to zero on than just banning weapons or iron handling who gets access to them. 

Somewhere in the midst of it all, it dawned on me that I didn’t want to wait until the end of the following year to mend broken relationships. I reached out. I wrote letters, one which is still sitting on my dresser because I can’t seem to find an opportunity to give it to him. I wanted to truly let go and just live, but its hard when those around you don’t see it the same way. 

That message would get louder as time went on. Louder and Louder, until it was the only thing I could (emotionally) hear. I don’t know what the answer is to all of this. I don’t know where we go from here. But there heart can only take so much, and I’m sure mine is not the only one that is tired of breaking of senseless acts of violence.

photo credit: drp via photopin cc

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