Monday, November 9, 2009


What will our president do about the war, what can he do? What can I do but shrivel when the feeling of being helpless, vulnerable is so strong?

I remember when the atomic age fears took over. Would someone drop a bomb on us like we did in Hiroshima and Nagasaki? The idea that someone, somewhere in the world, could accidentally or purposefully push a button and destroy civilization was new -- and powerful, and terrifying. It affected the way I thought -- we thought -- about the future. And then came September 11, 2001 ...

I'm a very grown up grown-up -- one small person, in a home, on a street, in a civilized community, where the things I need for survival are readily available. And I can't deal with thoughts of my world being destroyed in a war.

I back off, I have to, in order to do my daily things. I know that the neighborhood children, pre-teens, teens and young adults , have space in their minds, a place where their fears reside. Fears like mine, but more intense -- when they think of "What am I going to be when I'm grown up?" or "What will I be doing next year?"

Our wars have stolen the sense of future -- soldiers, families torn apart, young men and women giving up their lives -- while I'm sort of safe, but feel not safe with the visions of war, sounds of war, statistics made real, when, occasionally, I'm pulled into the fray by what I see on television.

How do the children handle this? With violence, excess appetites for pleasure, and pain? Is that why kids are hurling themselves into "now" and pretending death from the wars doesn't exist for them?

I want the President to end the War in Afghanistan. And negotiate, and communicate, talk talk talk -- make pacts, alliances, treaties, bargains, sanctions, embargos, and effect, distract, talk talk talk with all the countries, the leaders, that are threatening life on this planet. Stop the war. Lose the war. End the war.

Even though the enemy will win (call them Al-Qaeda or Taliban, or any other name) ... lose the war, end the war.

My words float out of me, one small person, frightened, desperately concerned about the future.
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