Sometimes the words just come out raw and will not be tamed (For The Innocent-Wherever they are)
Today is an Aftermath, our neighbours across ‘The Channel’ are hurting; the usual shared right to light-hearted rudeness about each other’s cultures evaporates in the images of the slaughter of ordinary people going about their lives. And the memories come back of the other mass killings around this world of ours, at schools, on holidays, in markets, places of worship and a bloody myriad of unexpected locations. The bodies, the screams, the blood, the agony of the injured and the relatives and friends. Once again the sights of the combination of the organised and the frantic to save and comfort. Humanity at its best and worst.
So there I was, at 8pm (in the UK) quite pleased I’d notched up 2,900 words and a post. Tomorrow was going to be another productive day, and then the news came in, at first ominous and scant ripples, building over the hours into a torrent of horrid facts.
Sometimes distance is an anaesthetic; try as you might you still can’t stop the generalisations. ‘Oh dear, another bombing in Pakistan, such a shame (but it’s always been like that y’know, ever since Partition)’. ‘Oh no Syria, Iraq, such a mess (but what can I do?’) ‘Oh my God another school shooting in America (I don’t understand)…..And you carry on about your business. But this one was close, and pulls you up and brings all the pain and suffering from all those other incidents you hoped you had consigned away back home. So I just leave the arguments aside and mourn those who have and are still suffering, where and whenever.
And what is the worth of continuing to write my novel on this, another day of pain and suffering in The World. Am I justified in taking to my keyboard and letting lose my imagination? Should I not be taking up a cause? Should I be doing nothing but only mourning and reflecting. What can I do?
I can write.
It is what I do. Maybe not very well. Probably will never even get onto a bookshelf. My pride and ambitions are not the issue here. The time for making light of the matter is on hold. It is time to write; writing and placing the words out there, if it is only unto our electronic ethereal of the Internet.
If we do this with a good heart, be it to inform, entertain, inspire, or share in the community of writers. If we do not give way to the lure of Hate, Ignorance or Fear. If we let Compassion, Tolerance and Respect be our watchwords. If we write just for the sheer love of writing, bringing forth the words because we yearn for them to be free, because we feel a joy in writing, then in a small way do we honour those dead and maimed, for we are keeping alight the flame of creative art which all ordinary folk delight in. We express the Human’s spirt of creativity. WE work for the joy of it. WE stand, we do not cower, lurk, or snarl out of dungeon dark places of ignorance. We speak in the languages of Light and Conception.
Do not feel you must compare yourself to those who go out into the world to strive to make it better in physical ways in dangerous places. They have their calling and you have yours. Some will return and fired by passion and eloquence will take to writing themselves. But there will be others, fatigued and looking for rest and relaxation who will seek out the evidence of the world they started out from and will need your input, as will their loved ones who worry about them.
So carry on then with your wonderful posts, display your uplifting energies. Play your part in keeping the world alive, colourful and warm. Write because you can. Write because you must. Write because, just because.
(Ending with a special mention to the many inspirational posts on Facebook intent upon deflecting anger and hate away from those whose cultures are tarred and sullied by acts of ignorance and fear.)
To all of you best wishes and good luck in your undertakings.