Life, the Universe, and the Marathon Bombing

It's hard to believe that it's been nearly two years since I last posted anything. I could say it's because I didn't have anything to post - which is partly true - but really, I always have something to say. I'd just convinced myself no one cared enough to read it, so why bother?

Well, that stops here.

Life is funny. It's not until something like the bombings at the Boston Marathon happens that most of us really give a thought to how fragile our existence really is. And yet, millions of people the world over live with the constant threat of violence - in war-torn countries, in regions of geopolitical unrest, hell, just in neighborhoods where the crime rate outnumbers the good guys - so why is it that we're constantly surprised by "higher-profile" events like the Marathon?

Our capacity for doing harm to one another continuously shocks me. I have trouble squashing ants in the bathroom; it's inconceivable to me how someone could deliberately plan an action designed to cause harm - even death - to other humans. It's comfortable to think that actions like the Marathon bombing are carried out by inhuman monsters; by people so brainwashed by evil that they're unrecognizable to us. But is that really true?

Over 200 years ago, when America fought for its independence from Britain, America was roundly criticized for not adhering to the "conventions of military engagement." Our forces were so outmanned and outgunned that our strategists resorted to what amounted to guerilla warfare - sneak attacks, ambushes, suicide missions - in order to emerge victorious. If Britain had won, do you think the original colonists would have been called "terrorists" by the history books? Although, the argument must be made that at least the American forces concentrated on military targets - unlike today's terrorists - but is any loss of life ever truly justified?

An extreme example, I grant you - but sadly, today's world is full of less extreme examples, if you care to illustrate the point in more subtly varying shades of grey. Darfur. Somalia. The West Bank.

This is not an apologist post on behalf of the misguided souls who cause this harm. I'm not looking to justify or rationalize the suicide bombers, radicals, or jihadists.

All I'm asking for is that we remember that we are all human. We are all connected. Causing harm to any living soul brings harm to ourselves.

When we are hurt, we can - and should - stand up and defend ourselves. But there's a world of difference between defending oneself from attack and picking fights with half the planet.

If there is one thing that I have learned in my life, it is that we have a very long way to go in our quest for peace, for evolution and advancement. We are still so focused on 'an eye for an eye' that we have lost sight of the fact that when we descend to revenge and hatred, we become the very thing we claim to be fighting against. We have been hurt, and so we lash out blindly at those who hurt us, hurting other innocent people in the process... which creates more hurt, angry people, lashing out in all directions... and the cycle continues.

An eye for an eye, until everyone is blind.

The child left orphaned today by a stray missile could well become tomorrow's suicide bomber. The husband left widowed and childless could turn his grief to rage in the span of heartbeats. These are not inhuman monsters. These are people, like you and I, who have been convinced - through pain, through grief, through religious fervour, through mental imbalance, through any number of channels - that the only path left to them is death and destruction. That the only choices involve how much damage to inflict, and whether they expect to live through it.

In that context, it becomes a little easier to imagine how someone could decide to hijack a jetliner, or build an IED out of a Crockpot. It gets no easier to understand - but then, emotions aren't logical. They can't ever truly be understood, only experienced. They are visceral, chimeric; they overwhelm reason.

I scan the world news each day and weep for the innocent lives lost. I pray, every day, for a future where such carnage is inconceivable. That we will choose to reach out with a healing touch, rather than an angry fist. That we will inspire kindness and compassion, instead of revenge and hatred.

Dare to imagine this world with me.

You may say I'm a dreamer,
but I'm not the only one.
I hope one day you'll join us,
and the world will live as one.
~~ John Lennon, 1971

Playing catchup

It's been a shamefully long time since I've posted any content here.  I've been busy with my writing over at Livejournal, and apparently I only have so much creative force within me at once. ;)  I went on vacation, and when I got back went straight into tech week for the show I was producing; had a two-week run, wrapped and struck on Sunday 6/13 and began rehearsals for my next show on Monday 6/14.  My energy levels are limited, although they are getting better, so I find myself really having to pay attention to what's on the to-do list and to prioritize what HAS to be done versus what I'd like to get done.  It's frustrating, but I just hope things continue to get better.  I think about where I was a year ago, and I can see the improvement. It's just not as fast as I'd like.

A year ago, I was less than two weeks out of surgery for the cancer.  I couldn't sit up for more than 20-30 minutes at a time, for the most part.  I slept on the sofa because walking down the hall to the bedroom was too much for me. I was having horrific tetany symptoms, because my parathyroid wasn't working but the doctors kept trying to wean me off the calcium/vit D regimen. It was good times.

3 weeks out from the surgery was the wedding of a very good friend of mine.  I wasn't cleared to drive and wouldn't have had the stamina anyway, and a dear friend gave up his entire weekend to drive me to CT for the wedding, stay overnight so I could rest, and stop for a few hours at a family party on the way home.  Through the whole weekend he was at my side, ready with a steadying hand or a smile, and he will never, ever know how much that meant to me.  I've tried to tell him, but there really aren't words for it.

4 weeks out of surgery I bought my first home.  I was completely taken advantage of on a couple of different issues, but I'm trusting in the Universe to help me find a resolution. 

8 weeks out of surgery, terrified that permanent damage had been done to my vocal chords and singing ability, I agreed to be a minstrel in the summer Shakespeare. I made it through, and except for one night I botched a whistle reel because I was in too much pain to concentrate, I think no one could really tell I was sick. Of course, that same friend who took me to the wedding was also a minstrel, and now he will say things like "Don't you remember last year at Shakespeare when X happened?" and I have to remind him that I mostly spent the entire run telling myself "don't pass out, don't pass out, don't pass out, whatever you do."

And then, of course, another 4 weeks or so after that I began the radiation treatments. Those wiped me out almost as much as the surgery had - I spent my isolation week laying on the sofa and when I felt up to it I would prop myself up with pillows and read Harry Potter books.  I reread the entire 7 book series in that week.  It's not clear whether I'll have to have more radiation.  I have a nuclear scan scheduled for the fall, when I will be given a small dose of radiation (about 1/50th of what I was given in treatment) and then be somewhat isolated (I haven't gotten the procedures yet; I think I just have to stay away from kids and pregnant women) for a few days and return for an imaging study which will show if anything that was left has grown since last year.  I had a similar scan done after the initial radiation treatment, and it was not fun.  Plus I have to do the low-iodine prep diet for 3 weeks with it, which means no seafood, no dairy, no processed foods, nothing with red dye in it, blah blah blah.  The worst part? No sushi from now until after the scan. =(

 But, I'm alive and my prognosis continues to be "excellent."  I may be frustrated by my lack of energy, but I'm doing better than a lot of people with cancer. And for that, I am grateful.  Even if all I did in this post, mostly, was kvetch.

But as the day of the Summer Solstice draws to a close, I wanted to take a look back at what has been an incredibly difficult, amazing, humbling, moving, insane year.

And to thank the Universe and the Spirit for giving me another year.  I promise to make the most of it.

Rainy Days and Wednesdays Always Get Me Down

Today, I'm having a Day.  One of those Days where a million little things (and sometimes big things) go wrong, and you spend your time wishing you could have just stayed in bed and avoided it all.  But, like 99% of the world, I couldn't go back to bed after the day showed its true colors.  The car we just spent $680 fixing (last week) is driving worse than when we took it to the mechanic.  The dryer that's been broken for a week is going to cost "more than the original estimate."  The roof is leaking.  The basement is wet.  I made my lunch but left it on the kitchen counter.  There's no coffee at the office.  I got pulled over by a state trooper for "not moving into the left lane to pass an emergency vehicle in the breakdown lane" and only avoided a ticket by explaining that it would have been suicidal to pull into the left lane on a busy NorthEast highway when the car's check engine light is blinking and I can't get the car to do above 60MPH.  I bought a bag of jelly beans to have as an afternoon sugar rush for the rest of the week, and left it at the house.

So here I sit - no coffee, no lunch, (no breakfast either, because I was rushing and thought, "well, I can eat my lunch a little early"), no candy and a caffeine withdrawl headache the size of Missouri.  I send a TXT to a couple friends that says "this is not my day" and everyone agrees.  Everyone's had a Day.

Why is that?  It's not a full moon.  Mercury's not in retrograde.  There's no other phenomenal cosmic forces swirling around us, as far as I can tell.  It's just an average March day, cold and wet with a north wind driving snow and frozen rain inside jackets and through scarves, sending dry leaves and sand scudding across the pavement.  So why has everything gone catawampus?

A question like that could send you downspiralling after too much contemplation.  So, I try to clear the cobwebs from my head and correct my perspective.

Nobody I love died today, or was seriously injured.  People may be sick, perhaps dying - but not today.  Things may be broken, and expensive to fix, but so far we're managing.  The roof and basement may be letting water in where they shouldn't, but it's a home of our own, and we're making the mortgage payments on time, at least for now.  I may go hungry today, and have a caffeine headache that's only slightly smaller than Missouri, but that 's just for today.  We have food to eat and clean water and a host of other things that millions of people in this world are lacking.  I may get aggravated by my job, but I'm working.  We're doing all right. 

Sometimes I think we all feel like bad days are punishments from above.  One thing after another goes wrong until we lift our faces to the sky and shout "What more? What else are you going to throw at me?"  But maybe that's not the right attitude at all.

Maybe, these days come to us to underscore how lucky we are when things go right.  How lucky we continue to be even when things go wrong.  When everything works the way it should and we have a great day, maybe we take it a little too much for granted.

So I am embracing today's message.  No, my life is not what I would want it to be.  Yes, I will always have unfulfilled dreams and hopes and wants.  No, that does not mean my life sucks.

I thought after being diagnosed with cancer, it would be easier somehow to deal with all these petty problems.  I thought I'd have some incredible epiphany that would elevate me above the small problems.  But a year into my diagnosis and treatment, I still struggle with the day to day nonsense.  A lot of the time it feels like I struggle even more than I used to - it's hard to have patience for the little things when so many big things are wrong in your life.  I was always the person who soldiered on and got it done, regardless of how I felt or anything that was going on.  To be suddenly faced with being physically unable to soldier on was a sobering, humbling betrayal of the personal strength I'd always prided myself on.  Pride goes before the fall, as they say.

So, I struggle along like everyone else, trying to find reason and meaning in the midst of chaos.  I try to find the positive spin as much as I can.  I remind myself again that perhaps this is the Universe's way of reminding me to be grateful that my cancer is treatable, grateful for my spouse, family, friends - to be grateful for the things I have instead of lamenting what I lack.

Maybe the Universe really is out to kick us when we're down.  But if that's true, there's nothing we can do about it... and really, by focusing on the positive spin, at least my headache's diminishing.

Or maybe that's just the Diet Coke kicking in.