The other day I fell into the war news and couldn’t climb back out. While I should have been in meditation in my Tai Chi class, rockets and bombs were in my mind. My dreams were hellish and it all seemed too freakin’ much. My friend Karen, who runs a crisis hotline, told me it is too freakin’ much and this is why…
News of the World
According to Karen, our bodies haven’t figured out
that we no longer hunt and gather, living in small clans,
that we can drive cross-country, fly around the planet.
She says we are built for the caves and the steppes
and for knapping flint points, same as we have ever done.
We are built to cope with only such trauma as can be found
within a day’s ride on horseback. We aren’t meant to know
about the child in the well in South America, the shooter
in the Midwest schoolhouse. Distance should shield us
from the bodies in rocket fire rubble across the sea.
It is enough to deal with knowing how fire displaced
dozens of families elsewhere in the county, or that
an enraged man shot his partner in the neck in the next
village to the west. We just aren’t equipped to bear the news
of the world. The talk of the diner weighs heavily enough.