I lay here before the sun is up with my son sleeping on my chest. His little breaths are audible over the sound of the noise app I have playing on my phone. The glow silhouettes his tiny back rising and falling. He is innocent. We are lucky.
After the terrorist attacks in Paris yesterday I held my boys close. We watched Christmas movies and ate cereal for dinner because none of the formalities mattered. Later, watching my children sleep put the enormity of this in perspective for me. All of these people were once children. Attackers and victims alike. They all had a mother who carried them in her womb for 9 months. She held her baby protected in her body and imagined powerful dreams for her child. This cannot be was she had hoped.
She rocked her baby to sleep, maybe sang lullabies, and told stories of love and greatness to her child. How is it then, that such innocence can turn into such hatred, such terror? I don't mean to say a mother's love can save us, but it can certainly be a start.
Attacks such as these, on innocents, in public places, places where friends meet and families gather, generate so much fear. So much anger. And for me, so much sadness. Retaliation is imminent. After the attacks on 9/11, I understand that hurt and rage. But I also remember a country uniting as it never has before and certainly has not since. I pray France finds that unity, let it be their silver lining, if there is to be one after this senseless tragedy.
This morning, when much needed sleep eludes me, I meditate on loving kindness. I send love and light to Paris, to Europe, and to humankind as a whole. I focus on happiness, kindness and peace for my boys and pray they do not have to continue to live in such a cruel world but that we will all unite and spread love. Let us discover that honest disagreement can be peaceful, educational, and productive.
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