Removal

NOTE: I wrote this last night, but refrained from posting it immediately, as I wished to be sensitive when adding my voice to the cacophony of opinions, demands and expressions.  I think there should be a time simply to express before we analyze.

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I will write soon to update you with events in Russia, but right now I want to address some darker thoughts and feelings about what is happening at home.  And what it means to be removed from your community during times of tragedy.

News of the events that happened in Newtown today, through the aid of the internet and social media, made it to Pushchino even as some of my friends in New Haven were just hearing of it.  This is something that is felt locally by people I love (being 45 minutes from New Haven), and even I would say, being felt nationally.  This is a national tragedy of the deepest sort, that our children would be targeted so specifically for such a futile, small, and twisted purpose.  And much of me longs to be in Connecticut right now to give hugs, give encouragement, to give love.

And yet, while distance causes such loneliness and frustration at a time like this, it also serves to blunt the pain.  Somehow in my life, I have usually managed to be physically removed from tragedy that most affects me.  Being here, reading about New York flooding just a few weeks ago brought the same sorts of feelings.  And now, this happened.  And though at times like this our community is so vital, distance and removal in their turn serve to diminish the pain into something manageable.  Not something comprehendible.  But something approachable.  The community around me here would sympathize with America, but it is not their pain.  It is ours.  And were I to be home right now, I fear that that pain would be all surrounding, all encompassing, and though there is no doubt an outpouring of love and support, even these things are marked by the cause of their origin.  For many people this immediate community is what gets them through times of tragedy.  In many ways I think this is likely the best, and quite necessary.  It is like an immediate surgery after an injury, rather than the prolonged period of aspirin-taking which I might liken to my situation. Sometimes painkillers and time make problems go away.  Sometimes they only bide time until something more serious is done, until you return to your place to grieve sufficiently with yours.  Maybe it is just chance/fate/providence having dealt me such strange odds of rarely being present and almost always being away at least in the immediate time frame, but I find that I prefer the aspirin and the relief that it brings.  To have life happening normally here [what the heck 'normal' is, is for a later post] is going to be what keeps any of this from being overwhelming.

There is something deeply wrong with our country.  Call it gun control, call it mental health care, call it an ever present feeling of self-entitlement.  There is no one thing that will fix this, but I hope that we learn where we need to make changes to prevent any more school shootings in the future.

To those of you in Connecticut today, my thoughts are with you.  And my prayers will be for Newtown, my adopted state and second home, and my country.  Though I am wayfaring at the moment, you will always be my family, my community, and my home.