It’s a sunny summer morning and, once again, a mere four weeks later, I am in mourning. For real, one might say. Over 80 people have lost their lives, including around 20 children, in the country I have always called home, just over an hour away from where I grew up.
My heart is in pieces. I feel sick. I am raw. It must be a sign of our times to wake up, enjoying a few blissful seconds of dazed ignorance, before the reality of horror sets in. It feels like a bad dream.
Terrorism and related terror attacks are not a new phenomenon by any stretch of the imagination. But, for many of us, they are starting to feel closer to home. And they are closer to home. We are now experiencing what so many others around the world have experienced for decades. We are, sadly, not alone in our predicament.
Pointless violence, vicious hurt and unnecessary loss are being spread by a handful of angry, indoctrinated individuals. And, despite these musings that are nothing more than a personal outlet to deal with the news, I am at a loss for what to say, how to comfort friends, family and strangers.
But, deep down in my heart, I know what I’m going to do in the immediate term. I am going to live every day to its full potential. I am not going to let fear or panic set in. I am going to continue to travel and talk to strangers, to be open-minded, curious and accepting. I am going to show my loved ones how much they mean to me every single day. I am going to show strangers that kindness and compassion and generosity exist. I am going to love so damn much. I am going to try to show love to every individual on this planet, to heal their wounds and appease their anger. I am going to spread love over hate. Every. Single. Time. You can’t kill love. Because love always wins.