September 11th, Violence and Love
I was pregnant with my love child just weeks after September 11th. I remember protesting US government violence in the middle east with a swollen belly and a broken heart. I’ve often wondered about the “American” children en utero at that time. How was it for them to grow cells, develop organs, to feel the collective fear, anger, morning and horror of that moment in history? My womb did not protect my son from the chemical warfare of my sympathetic nervous system.
And then I think of all the pregnant mamas and babies living in the world who wake up to the sounds of warfare every morning — for generations. Places where every child born develops alongside that fear, that violence, that despair – except that it is unrelenting. And it’s next-door, or worse it’s where your house and family used to stand.
I seek to uncover the violence, the anger, the repulsion, the fear within me that keeps me from acting in love. This morning I am grateful that my young son is still asleep in his bed. He is sick and it’s 10:00am. He has a warm bed in a quiet neighborhood where he can take the time to recover. We have privilege beyond our own awareness.
“Wanting to reform the world without discovering one’s true self, is like trying to cover the whole world with leather to avoid the pain of walking on stones and thorns…” — Ramana Maharshi
I love you this morning. I love you yesterday. I love you tomorrow, and it starts from within.
~ artemisia shine