On The Attacks


I am troubled by the events gripping the world in the last days.

I am troubled by the volume, the magnitude, the presence of it. My heart is so very heavy for the victims, the innocents, their families, their children, their parents. Death is a sombering equaliser that has an endless rippling effect.

I am troubled that real evil exists. Troubled by the spider web of factors that go into these events. Troubled at the complexity of it all, and my feeling of inadequacy in how to know how to even begin to think about things of this magnitude. Where do you begin? Where does it all start? Where does it end?

I am troubled by, and admit to, my own generally unaffected attitude towards so much of the real violence that occurs to real people in the world. I am troubled by my own privilege and the extreme luck of having been born a white American, with nothing but chance at play and everything following shaped as a result.

I’m troubled by the parallels, the stereotypes and judgements that will be drawn and have already been. Troubled at knee-jerk reactions that will occur, vengeful promises and hate-filled conclusions that will form hate-filled opinions that aren’t really opinions at all, but primitive condemnations.

I am troubled by my inability to see any clearcut reason, rationale or good in these events. Troubled at how difficult it is to find a way out of sinister doctrine that is fed to those who have not much else. Troubled at how this beautiful patchwork of a global society, more connected than ever before, carries with it new problems and questions that demand a broader understanding.

I’m troubled that not only do I not have answers, I’m not even sure if I have the right questions.

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