Today we have seen the commission of a horrible act of terrorism and murder committed in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. A shooter opened fire inside a synagogue and killed 11 and injured 6 others. I am not sure if those horrific numbers will increase–I hope they do not.
It must be said without any doubt that this was an anti-Semitic, racist, bigoted, and fascist act, that also is chillingly reminiscent of acts in Germany during the 1930s. In our current political climate, in which hatred is growing, and in which guns are easily available to anyone, including some people who have no business having them, such horrors occur far too frequently. This was an act of hatred by a racist, an extreme right winger.
People of all political views, at least those who are sane, must oppose these increases in hate. There are no excuses, no justifications, and no political spins…
I went to the place where it started for me and spent time with half the people I’d known there. It wasn’t the way it used to be: it’s harder now to find some words and too easy for others. There are holes in places that used to be solid. There are flowers where there used to be trees. There is death where there used to be laughter, and knowledge where there used to be dreams.
The dark room showed violence, but not too much, and it also showed patience and grace. The room by the water showed the shockwaves of nature and the art that is hidden in food. The room meant for living was filled with opinions – ideas and voices and anger and hope. The room meant for sleeping grabbed me and swallowed, and groaned before hiding away. The room that keeps moving carried a box of silence across state lines where it was opened ceremoniously and out popped another fresh life.
We see ourselves through the eyes of those we love.
We are bound to like some of the things we see and dislike others.
We see our character flaws in their eyes as clearly as we see our physical ones in a mirror. Did you ever notice how much better people look in direct sunlight?
There is a warmth in that light that draws out our best.
Love does the same thing.
Even our flaws can be endearing in the light of love.
The Light – by Regina Spektor
The light was shining in my eyes before I closed them And all the dreams I had the night before came back The faces that I’d seen looked so familiar But they’re just strangers, I haven’t met them yet
I know the morning is wiser than the evening I know that wrong and right can sometimes look the same So many things I know, but they don’t help me Each day I open up my eyes and start again
The light comes shining in my eyes The light comes shining in my eyes The light comes shining in my eyes The light comes shining in my eyes
So many stories I want to tell you I wish that I could show you the many things I’ve seen You and your daddy, you both look like poets Your eyes are open wide while you are in a dream
I know the morning is wiser than the nighttime I know there’s nothing wrong, I shouldn’t feel so down So many things I know, but they don’t help me Each day I open up my eyes to look around
The sun comes shining in my eyes The sun comes shining in my eyes The sun comes shining in my eyes The sun comes shining in my eyes
Are closed now Count the stars inside your mind Count the breaths, count heartbeats Count the sounds of life
The light was shining in my eyes before I closed them And all the dreams I had the night before were gone The faces that I’d seen looked so familiar But I forgot them all when I saw the sun
I know the morning is wiser than the evening I know that all of life just happens in between So many things I know, but they don’t help me Each day I open up my eyes and it begins
The light comes shining in my eyes The light comes shining in my eyes The light comes shining in my eyes The light comes shining in my eyes
The light, the light, the light, the light The light, the light
Do you know the feeling you get when you’re hiking and your legs are burning and you want to rest, or turn back, but you don’t? You tell yourself: just a little more, just a little farther, and it won’t be long before I reach my destination.
The view from the mountaintop, a view that can only be seen after the struggle, will be worth the effort.
I have that feeling now.
I don’t mind the slog as long as I can believe there is something worth seeing at the end of it.
