A few weeks ago, a friend suggested we set a special intention for the victims of a horrific act of violence. (Which one, you ask? The list grows daily. Real people died in each one.)
I thought my friend had a good idea; I was on-board with it. But before I could follow through, I heard about another violent tragedy. Somehow it was able to shock me even though I was already reeling. The death toll in the second circumstance was even higher than the first. (Which means what, exactly? If every life is an infinity, is 100 times infinity more than 50 times infinity?)
Suddenly it felt odd to honor one set of victims in light of this news about the others. Yet in smearing the particular into the generic–“we’ll pray for everybody, all at once”–I started to lose focus. Too many faces to visualize, too many names to read. I started to feel the overwhelm that has hit many of us lately. New shocks are coming too fast, I can’t/don’t wish to numb them out but something inside has broken loose and I’m feeling adrift. Continue reading
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