When the world crumbles

I’m sitting in my car waiting for the time when I can meet my mom for lunch, and I’m listening to Amanda Palmer Goes Down Under and wondering what is going on with the world.

This morning started by reading NPR‘s Andy Carvin’s live tweeting of Qahdafi’s speech to Libya. He seems to have lost contact with the world the rest of us live in. Which would almost be laughable if he didn’t also control the means to begin the “cleansing” he threatened.

And then I read through Amanda Palmer’s blog about New Zealand. Which is about the same time I realized my heart was breaking for the rest of the world.

Because the world appears to be in the midst of another of those moments that have marked my interaction with the Earth – it’s tumultuous.

Perhaps you’re from a generation that managed to not have major uprisings or world breaking moments. I wonder what this looks like through you eyes. Is it more terrifying? Are you hoping it will all stop? Or are you more peaceful about it? Because for me, everything that’s happening in the Middle East and New Zealand falls in stride with the way of the world.

Growing up with family in friends involved in Desert Storm, watching the Berlin Wall tumble down at the hands of the people, seeing the revolutions and civil wars of the Balkans, seeing the horror of a home-grown extremist attack people who never harmed him, and then beginning college amongst the ashes of a terrified country makes for a perspective that sees how appalling the world can be.

But this kind of experience also places turmoil in a broader perspective. One that demonstrates the impermanence of each moment.

Because this too shall pass.

Which is no guarantee that the next moment will be better, but this moment will not last forever.

And so I will embrace this moment’s sorrow and joy and do what I can to help those in need. And when I feel like the next moment will never end, I’ll look back here and remember.

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