You live in your animal place.
Pacing, anxious. Fight or flight.
My child is safe. My five-year-old child is safe. He is in the kitchen eating pancakes that his father made for him. They are talking about the different varieties of pancakes. It is any other day.
But it is not any other day.
Yesterday, an apocalyptic event occurred. One world ended.
I fight the urge to strap my son onto my back and carry him around as I did when he was an infant. But this is not the answer. To smother and overprotect only means that those who would terrorize us win the mad war they are fighting.
We feel helpless in the face of this random, senseless war against those of us who would live without fear and rage.
Yesterday was a day of helplessness. We filled out petitions. We signed on. We shouted our outrage.
We did what we could, which was not enough. Not nearly enough.
We asked why. But to ask why is to send a whisper out into the universe, spinning through the dying stars.
As I lay awake, I thought of the affirmation my son learned in his yoga class last year. I researched the affirmation after his class and learned that it is thought to be helpful for children in times of stress and trauma.
I repeated it until I slept:
This is what I can do today: offer you peace.
Today, I offer you peace.
May peace be with you today and always.
May peace fill you and return your words to you.