I don’t know if human emotion will ever catch up to the rapid onslaught of information our minds are now subjected to. My sense is that we will begin to evolve a system of suppression, staying busy by the onslaught so that it may pass. In the ocean, big waves are a concern for they can take you under, they can throw your body into the hard rocks ground down into sand, they can pull you out farther to sea, they bring fear and on rough days, those waves never stop coming. A body has two options, one to dive into the wave, where the force is not as strong, where the deep is quiet, and allow the force to pass above. Or you can try to ride the wave, swim with it, although hazards are harder to avoid with this strategy. I feel a constant need to hold my nose, stop my breath, sink my body and allow the tumult to pass overhead. So many bodies strewn about, so many lives ended, so many ideologies driving the acts and the reacts, so many opinions, tactics, and decisions. I don’t think human emotions will ever adapt to how fast death moves these days.
Last year, I walked around Paris on my own, listening to French, trying to speak French, eating French, plugging in a part of my DNA code. I yearned for an echo of recognition from the land where I was born, a magnetic place holder drawing me in tight. French words and melodies rocked my child self to sleep, my mother’s love pierces me deepest in her native tongue, and her thoughts often revert back to it. My ears perk, a dormant part of my brain tingles when I hear French, words that sometimes my brain can’t even decipher before they land on my heart. “Do you speak French” people always ask me, “I can use it” I typically respond. But the answer vibrating in me is “No, but I do feel French”.
So at this time that Paris saw bodies and lives destroyed, I can only beg you to give me the time to mourn. I beg of the President to pause before starting more attacks, I beg my friends to pause before adding the flag to their picture, I beg the radicals a moment before the critiques and the cynics a moment before the conspiracies. I am trying to come up from that dive into the deep, I can only stay below the tumult for so long, I need to take a breath, I need to breathe. I need some time to mourn, please.