Slouching Towards Peshawar...

Dear Maria,

Go figure, only two weeks since I explained away commenting on current events, but I can’t avoid reacting to the massacre in the school at Peshawar. Not that in this particular case my words matter. Maybe a global collective of words might spur someday an end to such evil.

I know that is an old-fashioned word, evil. The violence traded between the factions grinds on for all its historical and cultural and political reasons, but I do wish that those who would commit such heinous acts would just cloak themselves under the banner of evil rather than some dogmatic creed or political party or nationalistic tribalism.

Am I naïve? You know better.

To what end? Even if there are people who freely want—irony duly noted—to live under the Taliban’s regime, millions do not. Millions. It seems to me a foolishly and tragically ghoulish errand.

Of course, to a less violent extent, those that hate under any banner other than hatred—oh, just once to have them own their hatred. Just claim out loud, “We hate because we hate”. Hatred in their own names. Bigotry in their own names. Racism in their own names.

Comes from within, that choice. And therein some form of hope that pushback may come from those who would not harm neighbors, who would not slaughter children, who would not destroy themselves and the world. But, violence only begets more violence it seems.

Mourn the loss of lives unfulfilled, pity those left behind in the wake of the carnage.

Yes, I am more than usually agitated—detachment only goes so far. Better to concern myself with friends and family, to celebrate the holiday season, to look forward to what joys the approaching year may bring.

The birds continue to be, if not festive, at least entertaining. Sparrows were swarming the feeder yesterday morning until a mockingbird swooped in and drove them off. After lording over the scene for several minutes from on top of the crook that holds the feeder, off he flew. This morning, the bluebird couple checked out the condo, and that they will return early spring to start a new generation gives hope—along with all the babies that have come into the world among my acquaintances, and the babies that will join us next year and the years to follow.

Hope, the thing wrapped in a baby blanket. Amen.

Be well this season, and savor it all.

Yours, srk