Thursday, September 12, 2013

Beauty in the Simple Things

I live in a beautiful place, with a wonderful man, and a son who would make any mother proud. I don't have much to complain about. But life wouldn't be life if it didn't give you something to complain about, right? Mine is anxiety since I can remember, mixed with a sadness I've never been able to shake since I first learned about war, racism, and inequality. I was eight.

My mother was an activist and my father a sociologist, and there were always political discussions at the dinner table. Passionate discussions.

They had lots of friends who were also very passionate about these things. Protest marches, fundraisers, newsletters, a radio station, meetings, parties... 

I was always hearing about the desperate state of the world.

In my 20's, I started getting active too.
Through art and politics, I got involved with different groups of people who were also very passionate and very critical of the way things are.

 And then I had a son.

I passionately tell my son about the state of the world, 
as my parents did, just not quite as often maybe.

And he is confused by war and hate, as I was,
because none of it makes any sense 
when you can see beauty in the simple things all around you.

 I hope that his understanding of the world gives him strength,
not fear.

And I hope that fear is never an excuse to not follow his dreams.

I hope his generation finds the answers.

And in the meantime, 
I'll keep on focusing on those simple things.


  1. Beautiful post. It's a hard balance, sharing the truth with our children without weighing them down.

  2. He might not find the answers, but he may get a little closer to them.