Let’s allow the cruelty of the world to break our hearts, kind friend.
Let’s weep together at the shredded and emaciated bodies in Gaza, and at their mocking, cackling tormenters.
At the amputees and orphans in Ukraine and in Russia, and at the icy-eyed swamp monsters who put them there.
At all the gasping plants and wildlife as we make this planet uninhabitable, and at the ambition-clouded minds who keep this cataclysm rolling forward.
Let’s just let it all in.
Let’s let it shatter us.
We are not soldiers. We are not killers. Our hearts are not meant to be calloused.
So let’s let the cruelty of the world smash us to pieces, and scatter us like dust in the wind.
Fully surrendering to the anguish. Letting it immolate us.
And then seeing what remains.
Maybe we will find that life keeps on lifeing, even after we’ve let ourselves be swept away.
Maybe after we stop holding back the heartbreak in our absolute certainty that it will kill us, we — somehow — do not die.
Maybe after the hurricane of sorrow has been fully permitted to tear through us and have its say completely, we go on.
The lungs keep filling with air. The veins keep filling with blood. The light of the rising sun makes its way into our eyes.
And we slowly feel our strength coming back to us.
And then maybe we start to stir.
And maybe we let our bodies have a good shake.
And then maybe, when we are ready, we start to sit up.
And then rise to our feet.
And return to the fight.
Let’s allow the cruelty of the world to destroy us, kind friend.
And then find out what remains.
And fight on.
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