I am never particularly interested in being a Buddhist until I am forced to process large-scale suffering. And, if I was a more aware and engaged person, I would obviously be in an endless loop of processing tragedy. But as it stands now, I tend to only really concern myself with the shocking and unexpected events that CNN covers for over 72 solid hours. So, this post is about the Virginia Tech shootings. It could as easily be about the Tsunami, Katrina, 9/11, today’s Iraq bombing . . . I always initially relate with gratefulness. I think that’s OK. I mean how else can I relate except to put myself in the place of victims or victim’s loved ones, imagine their horror, feel the empathy, and then say, “Whew. I am thankful that was not me. I am grateful for what I have.”
Of course, it’s about more than that. It’s about death, but even more so it’s about an illusion of control over the uncompromising uncertainty (and in my opinion, meaninglessness) of life. We all know we’ll die, but we long for a sense of justice within the timing. I need desperately to believe in a “natural” and “likely” rhythm to aging and death in order to live under an illusion of permanency and meaning. How else would I get out of bed to start a day?
When news of giant ocean waves and bullets and ALS diagnoses rip that daily-illusion rug out from under me, I can only stop to reflect on the horror and feel helpless. That’s when I think being a practicing Buddhist would be worthwhile. Then I brush that thought off, have a glass of wine, blog, and go to bed so I can be well-rested to start another day.
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