Women's Crossroads

After a week of Israel pounding Lebanon and killing hundreds of civilians in an attempt to rout the Hezbollah fighters, the world is taking notice. Lots of voices are chiding Israel for using “disproportionate force”—except of course for our illustrious President, who admonishes the Hezbollah folks to “stop that shit.”

The humanitarian agencies are all scrambling to get aid to the displaced Lebanese—the Israeli jets were leafleting neighborhoods in Beirut yesterday, warning the people to leave their homes, and thousands are doing just that, but they have no where to go, and nothing to eat when they get there.

Those of us who can spare a few minutes from our sweet summer plans to ponder all this are left wringing our hands on the sidelines, and eventually shrugging our shoulders and going on with our barbecues and trips to the beach.

What can be done? Those Israelis and Palestinians have been going at it for decades, and things have only gone from bad to worse. Thank heaven it’s happening over there, far, far away from our green and peaceful safe haven.

I confess to having indulged in this train of thought several times during this past week. Ordinary Americans like me just don’t seem to be able to affect world events—we can’t even manage to elect a decent President of our own country, or end the corruption in our Congress. Every time I’ve tuned into the news this week it’s just sunk me further in depression, and who needs that?

I was thinking how, in the old days, there was just as much fighting and conflict in the world, but ordinary people were less in contact with it than we are now. Without computers and satellites, it might take weeks for your average person living on a farm in the Midwest, let’s say, to learn that a battle was raging in Armenia or Egypt. One might never learn of it. And what one didn’t know couldn’t hurt one.

I do believe that what Kaethe Weingarten has identified as “common shock” is a real problem for us 21^st century folks. We know far too much about what’s going on on our planet, and so much of what we learn about faraway places is negative. This gloomy awareness settles over us like a pall, and for those of us who are sensitive to the suffering of others, it can cast a shadow over every hour of every day, however happily we may be engaged in enjoying the fruits of empire.

Weingarten, a psychologist, urges us to work through our common shock, our distress and even trauma over the violence we see around us, by channeling our fear, pain and anger into action that will bring about a more positive world.

But that’s the problem lately: I feel, and I am sure I’m not alone, totally stymied in my desire to act. Protests have gotten us nowhere. Voting has gotten us nowhere. Writing has gotten us nowhere. The violence just seems to be escalating, and with it the problems of the environment, climate, and suffering of all the beings on our planet.

Right now I am falling back on the very small, very local sphere, the only place where I can truly have an impact and make a difference. My family, my community, my friends, my workplace. I am trying to root myself in the present moment, which is in fact a peaceful summertime in the beautiful Berkshire hills, where I am nestled in a loving web of family, friends and friendly acquaintances. I am planting flowers and flowering shrubs, tending my vegetable garden, caring for my children, my husband and my cats.

It’s tempting to just retreat into this cocoon and try my best to forget about the mayhem going on in the outside world. Many people in my position are doing just that.

I can’t really shut it out entirely. The shadow of war, fear, pain and grief stays with me at all times. But the only satisfying way I can think of to push it back right now is through the small offerings of love I am able to give to the world immediately around me.

I’m treading water, waiting for a movement that can offer real change.