As the one-year anniversary of the tragedy of 11/9 approaches, I sense in my friends, what I increasingly feel inside. A weariness. Of the soul.
Perhaps we’re surprised that our generation, so rich in freedom, could be surrounded by so much suffering. While equally astonished at how often our hearts must break.
It’s as if we’ve been limping through this year, lifting our heads up from each appalling circumstance to align with our vision of what can be (what should be!), again and again.
While all along our crushed hearts have somehow… enlarged!
Demonstrating an astonishing capacity. To grieve. To fight. To love. Beyond what we ever imagined, at such a privileged time in history, necessary.
And then, how many times might we make one last stop for ice cream–because the weather is so unseasonably warm…
One thought on “My Soul. Is a Weary.”
Boy can I relate. I’ve actually deleted blogs from my blogroll and unfriended people who still stand by this nonsense. Just discovered your blog as I was searching for Vermont blog writers – love the state, live in CT.
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