This post is a departure for me.
I don't often make political statements or comment on world situations.
I choose instead to dwell in the past.
It's peaceful there.
But I had an experience . . .
I’ve always thought that I lived in a safe, peaceful world.
As much as anyone could at a time when acts of terror are delivered up with our morning coffee.
Let’s face it, when one lives miles from the nearest town and many more miles from the nearest city, the chances of world-attention-grabbing incidents are few.
But on that night, I had a soupçon of what the rest of the world is enduring . . .
We were on holiday.
Suffice it to say we were deep in the Canadian north woods.
A place of few ‘civilized’ comforts.
Where an early-morning discussion of a group of Ravens or the scramble and squabble of a family of squirrels through the trees is much more likely than the reality of a newspaper or an early-morning commute.
We had been there over a week.
And in that period had witnessed—several times—the glorious and awe-inspiring fury of a summer storm, but only caught the barest whiff of the latest heinous world-wide assaults.
It had been wonderful to be able, just for a time, to let the world and its pain pass by us.
That night, we said good-night to our neighbors and ducked inside our dependable little tent.
The usual night sounds lulled us and we settled peacefully into sleep.
Then, at 3:00 AM, I was jerked suddenly from my slumber.
Someone was screaming.
A hoarse male voice.
Screaming.
Then I heard the sounds of others.
Also shouting.
At one point, they began to chant.
Then more screaming.
And, the most terrifying of all, the pounding of dozens—could it be hundreds?— of feet on the ground.
Were they growing closer?
Okay, in this morning light, I know now that it was probably a drunken group of holidayers, maybe watching a drinking game or contest of some sort.
But at the time, in the dark of a moonless night, when one is snatched from a deep sleep to unfamiliar surroundings, the sound was terrifying.
Maybe it was because of the real and constant danger that seems to be closing in on us in these dark days.
Maybe it was my own vivid imagination.
But for a while, I felt what millions of people the world over feel every single day.
Terror.
Helplessness.
Waiting for the inevitable juggernaut of twisted power to overtake and crush us.
Unlike those peoples, I awoke in my peaceful little world.
Unscathed.
Secure.
But, just for a moment, I had a glimpse.
And my heart is now truly theirs.
I choose instead to dwell in the past.
It's peaceful there.
But I had an experience . . .
I’ve always thought that I lived in a safe, peaceful world.
As much as anyone could at a time when acts of terror are delivered up with our morning coffee.
Let’s face it, when one lives miles from the nearest town and many more miles from the nearest city, the chances of world-attention-grabbing incidents are few.
But on that night, I had a soupçon of what the rest of the world is enduring . . .
We were on holiday.
Suffice it to say we were deep in the Canadian north woods.
A place of few ‘civilized’ comforts.
Where an early-morning discussion of a group of Ravens or the scramble and squabble of a family of squirrels through the trees is much more likely than the reality of a newspaper or an early-morning commute.
We had been there over a week.
And in that period had witnessed—several times—the glorious and awe-inspiring fury of a summer storm, but only caught the barest whiff of the latest heinous world-wide assaults.
It had been wonderful to be able, just for a time, to let the world and its pain pass by us.
That night, we said good-night to our neighbors and ducked inside our dependable little tent.
The usual night sounds lulled us and we settled peacefully into sleep.
Then, at 3:00 AM, I was jerked suddenly from my slumber.
Someone was screaming.
A hoarse male voice.
Screaming.
Then I heard the sounds of others.
Also shouting.
At one point, they began to chant.
Then more screaming.
And, the most terrifying of all, the pounding of dozens—could it be hundreds?— of feet on the ground.
Were they growing closer?
Okay, in this morning light, I know now that it was probably a drunken group of holidayers, maybe watching a drinking game or contest of some sort.
But at the time, in the dark of a moonless night, when one is snatched from a deep sleep to unfamiliar surroundings, the sound was terrifying.
Maybe it was because of the real and constant danger that seems to be closing in on us in these dark days.
Maybe it was my own vivid imagination.
But for a while, I felt what millions of people the world over feel every single day.
Terror.
Helplessness.
Waiting for the inevitable juggernaut of twisted power to overtake and crush us.
Unlike those peoples, I awoke in my peaceful little world.
Unscathed.
Secure.
But, just for a moment, I had a glimpse.
And my heart is now truly theirs.
Oh honey, I am so horrified along with you.
ReplyDeleteThinking about it still makes my heart speed up, Carol. And this was just a taste. I can now imagine how the real terror must feel!
DeleteEmpathy is ALWAYS a double edged sword. Just the same I firmly believe that if more of us could master it (despite the pain) the world would be a better and paradoxically less painful place.
ReplyDeleteOh my word, yes, EC!
DeleteIt's hard to fathom how folks can survive in war-torn regions where they must endure such threats on a regular basis, isn't it? There's no doubt in my mind that it destroys people even if they remain physically untouched.
ReplyDeleteFear. Terror. Worry. Killers all. It just makes me weep, Jenny!
DeleteWow, that's so scary, can't imagine. So glad you were okay. Once in a while, the veil is lifted and it's terrifying.
ReplyDeleteI so agree, Laurie!
DeleteWe’ve seen fear and uncertainty creeping closer and closer to us here in the ‘civilized’ countries of the world. That is truly scary to me!
What a fright. We get afraid regularly, hearing the crazy people having drag races on the freeway every Thursday night. All of us just wait for the crash that is going to happen someday. That waiting for the other shoe to drop, and right in your own yard, is heart-stopping.
ReplyDeleteI can certainly imagine that, Mimi! In the summer, the drag races are right behind our house. Literally. We’ve had one horrifying accident in the 24 years we’ve lived here. I pray we never have another.
DeleteI was originally a history major in college. What I saw unfolding, these past few years...I hear you, Diane. I've felt the fear, too. There was a near riot on the street where I live several months ago. I still don't know exactly what happened and why but it was scary - and an awakening for me.
ReplyDeleteGasp. Riots are things that happen somewhere else. In another country! I think it's good that, occasionally, we feel the fear that others live with on a daily basis. I think it makes us kinder!
Delete