grief and love for Charleston South Carolina
I'm thinking about the cracks today, because my heart is broken again in a thousand pieces (it's broken almost every day, living in the world we live in).
You know the famous song lyric by Leonard Cohen, which is of course, a paraphrase of much older quotes (including this one by Rumi, that I've written about before).
I think cracks are inevitable, just like grief; everything breaks, everything changes, everything that lives, dies. Everything ages and so it goes, in this fragile world we live in.
And the thing is, we have the power to make it better, letting the light in through those cracks, or to make it worse by breaking the shit out of everything we touch.
We have the power to repair the cracks that we can repair, like kintsugi or to mourn the cracks that cannot be fixed.
We cannot fix everything. Oh gads, I wish we could. But we can't. We can only do what we can do. Nothing can bring back those murdered in cold blood.
Today I mourn for those killed in an act of terrorism in South Carolina. And I ask why, why, why. But I know the answer. I hate that I know the why, but I do. There's a brokenness in this world that seeks to break everything else because it is so broken it thinks of brokenness (racism, bigotry, violence) as whole.
And this is beyond our power to repair immediately, though I'd like to think we can still make a difference, by teaching the ways of social justice and seeing that the great cracks in the world that can be fixed (poverty, despair, injustice) DO get fixed. (Speedily and in my days, amen!)
Today let my actions bring more love in through those broken parts that I can help repair.
Today let me mourn and let my grief remind me of what I love.
Today, let us remember that which we love most.