what do i know, really?

i need to write. 
i haven't done this in far too long. i want to, i attempt to...i type in the url, then i become immediately and easily defeated and click away.
    i get caught up in the dread of where to start? 
        i haven't recorded so many events & thoughts between the last post and now...how will i catch up? 
            how will i connect the dots?

it's easier to click away.

but that's silly. a cop-out. and not good for my being.
not good because a part of me was born to "write" -- may it be through words, on paper or inside the clicks of a keyboard. 
with a paint brush bearing staccato strokes, poetry, a riddle or a hand-written note of thanks or thought.

so i'm using my words and "saying this" because i need to see it, read it, regurgitate it and come back in months from now when this same wordless plague will undoubtedly strike again.
. . . . . . . .
sadly, i find myself here today because i'm 
sick, heartbroken, reeling and can't shake 
the tragedy that happened in Newtown, Connecticut just three days ago. 

and i've got to get this out.

its haunted my dreams. i wake up thinking about it. i can't get images out of my head.
what i'd like to do in less than 10 words, is just re-post this blog/article 
because i believe, deep down, it's truly what everyone is thinking & feeling, though we may not have the guts to convey it as raw and graphically as this author. {warning, bad language} 

i'm not a parent. and i can't imagine being one today.
of a child who was taken. of a child who went to that sweet school and survived.
or of a child 20, 200 or 2,000 miles away {and innocently unaffected} from this idylliac east coast town.
i don't truly know that maternal attachment. that gut feeling. the real pang of innate mama bear claws.

i'm also not a teacher. and i can't imagine being one today.
with a classroom of children asking questions. 
each child holding different fears, knowledge and understanding of this senseless tragedy.
i don't know how millions of teachers woke up this Monday morning and dug deep, 
through pep talks, prayer and sheer perseverance 
knowing they had to be strong, a sense of comfort and in some cases, the single strength and voice of reason to abhor the fears they find in the eyes of their students.

but i know they did. and i'm in awe of their courage.
 
what i hold right now is compassion, appreciation and the yearning for understanding, moving forward
and changing.

as i've watch psychologists, ministers, professionals and parents advise first and foremost to turn off the tv, don't let them see Yahoo homepages, delete the digital images...
...i find the first bit of hope. 

i am an adult who has a business where well over 50% is conducted, accelerated and achieved through email, internet, social media marketing and the world wide web. this "cloud" we all know so well is responsible for much of my day to day success, for which i am thankful.

i am also an adult who has been hurt by the easy cowardliness and anonymity of social media. 
i've become far too dependent on a google search. 
and i've watched social media grab parents of children ages 8 - 18 by their throats and run and ruin their lives.

i fear that like most things, in a few weeks and in the hustle and bustle of the holiday, this too will be old news. 
but if for one moment, this instance would make teachers/parents/humans think a little differently and take a step up to do the one thing we are all innately wired to do
...and shelter our kids.
that's right,
shelter.

but not in a negative, cult-ish, naive sense.

shelter them from grown up reality, from social media, the endless information (true & false) that flows from the tv, media and our trusty & beloved "cloud" 

shelter our kids and ourselves a little more

no longer letting society parent us and our children

 

sheltering, in a sense, back to the way that even i grew up. a product of the 80s and 90s. 

which though not very long ago, was incredibly 

simpler 

with a sense of naivety

that was, in retrospect, completely healthy.

 

i am not a parent and i am not a teacher. and i can't imagine being one today.

i don't know how it feels to fall into compromise when your kids are under social pressure, influenced by social media, broken down by bullying and fitting in.

but my god, children have been raised 

WELL

for hundreds of years more than this small slice in time 

of rapidly growing and over saturated technological interference.

interference that is primarily reasonable for grown up rationale.

i am not a parent and i am not a teacher. and i can't imagine being one today.

so what do i know, really? 

i know parents reading this are muttering the deserving response of 

"you don't even have a clue!" 

and i get that, indeed.

but goodness.

part of this makes me afraid to bring kids into this world

but a greater part makes me want to do just that...

more than anything...

to challenge myself and my children 

to do so as 

SIMPLY 

as we can.

 

bless you mamas, daddies and teachers out there. i admire your courage and compassion as you sort through this heartbreak personally and as a hero to the little minds who have been forced to wonder and fear what tomorrow holds.