when thoughts swarm –

Warning: a confessional, a posting of indulgence, a posting with ideas i shall not apologize for nor defend ~

My life is a quiet one, it has gotten quieter as the years go on. Sometimes this is forgotten until a long ago friend texts a hello and we ponder catching up over a coffee. His list of obligations makes me tired just reading, we shall probably never get a convo underway.

On a night such as this, perhaps it is good to have nothing, or no one, to indulge with conversation. The words that swarm around me are only meant for stinging or to swallow in contemplation before burying in salt and wine.

Do we escape what wells into our being with angry barbs; do we welcome the tears that well in our hearts. We escape in our dreams; we welcome in our offerings.

Just read all the names, six-year-old after six-year-old–
taken with the hands of instability mastering an object created to kill. There is no peace in a world that holds tightly to any weapon that is meant to take any life~

This was my FB post an hour ago. It was my response after reading FB post after FB post praising their guns – praising their right to bare arms – offering a hope to bring G_d back into the schools whilst leaving the guns on the table at home. It was my response after reading a List of Names, Names that had the Age 6 after them, over and over and over. A heaviness welled upon my body. There was a need to escape. It sounds odd, but escape generally involves a bookstore, books refocus the mind, the people milling about comfort me — there are still thinkers/readers in this world. Twilight, however, was coming fast and the outside called to me.

Each step mixed with somber thoughts. Z did not pull, she sensed the strain. Under a menagerie of fairy lights, no joyous thought came to mind. Instead, word after word of others’ thoughts shot through my mind — the desire to understand how one raises a hand with gun and the other with G_d.

The lights continued to grow brighter as the sky grew darker. The wind danced with my hat while puddles reflected a festive glow. As each house lit up, the windows offered glimpses of living of life I could not fathom. Do they realize in other parts of this vast land there are no lights; there is no electricity? Do they realize in other parts of this vast land there are sirens going off; there are bombs and shots ringing for killing? Where do they stand on such things – these bombs, these guns, these weapons that are not for peace but dominion as they contemplate their pagan tree laden with gifts that could feed many.

Back home, before I start my dinner and live my quiet evening. I realize my fortune of wealth in this vast land – trust me. With each frivolous gift, though, I counter with one of meaning. Still, I am living a spoiled life compared to billions. There are no conclusions – there are no words for offering solutions. There is only This, for which I will apologize, for I needed just to write out in order to lay to rest (for a while) what continues to swarm and sting.

There can be no understanding of how the people of this Tragedy are able to even stand under the weight of such sorrow. No matter what you believe in, even if it is nothing more than a sun that rises to light each day, please consider sending a thought of peace-filled energy to Them before you end this day. May we somehow help to heal with these intentions, these offerings.

Before leaving, a poem posted late last night on the other blog. It is inspired by Stein. It swarmed my brain whilst driving with my parents yesterday, we listened to the news, mile after mile, hour after hour, until we reached home. The core is not my own, taken from a book/movie title that is quite relevent to yesterday’s events. The poem it called Talk –

we need we need to we need to talk we need to talk about we need to talk about violence we need we need to we need to talk we need to talk about we need to talk about illness we need we need to we need to talk we need to talk about we need to talk about guns we need we need to we need to talk we need to talk about we need to talk about america we need we need to we need to

talk -

Leave a comment


  1. There’s no need to apologize. As your poem says- and if we can’t start talking in personal ways to in a blog of all places, how will we ever start a discussion aboit biw to solve the serious problems our culture has that manifests in such terrible ways?

    I’ve been at my daughter’s birthday party today and bought the family’s Christmas tree- although all I am really thinking about is how every dayday I see children being sacrificed to Moloch in so many ways- not just terrible school shootings. I’m glad to see you can speak- I am still badly struggling to find words.

    Thank you for having the courage to speak.

  2. Well said, Angela. And I feel this is about more than access to guns. It is about how we bring up our young people. It is a clarion call to re-evaluate the values of a society which has learnt to become blind to so much.


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