The world around us is bleeding and burning.
I wasn’t going to write about it, because this I don’t write about politics or such topics. And also because I don’t know what to say about it.
But, writing about progress on my solopreneur journey, or Halloween, or AI, or my latest productivity hack — seems irrelevant.
I do write about parenting, though. And during this time, I am most affected as a parent as I see other parents and children begging to survive. Begging to be free.
The plight of those entangled in this conflict, especially the children and mothers, is heart wrenching to say the least. I cannot imagine how horrifying it is for parents caught in this emergency.
It’s making me hold my own children tighter. It’s making me feel so grateful that we are safe; that they are happy and healthy, and that I can put them to bed every night.
It’s making me pause and think: What else is there to want for?
My days ping-pong between seeing harrowing clips of wounded children and howling mothers through my devices; and my children’s smiling faces and them sleeping in their cozy beds by my side.
Sometimes I spend hours watching excruciating clips from the war zone on social media. Some days I follow more accounts. Some days I unfollow them as it becomes unbearable to watch.
I didn’t know that ‘vicarious trauma’ is a thing; the ‘accruing effect of being exposed to someone else’s trauma. I don’t dare compare it to theirs ofcourse; I just cannot fathom their predicament.
I wake up everyday hoping for this war to be over, and am left distraught knowing that it is far from it. I see no light at the end of the tunnel.
I hope and pray for peace, and the safety of all families that are alive but deeply wounded, physically or mentally.
We try to get on with our lives; but social media gives us no escape, serving as both a boon and a bane in this situation.
I may not discuss it, but most of my work breaks are spent seeking answers: Why is this happening? Why is no one stopping it? What can I do?
It’s impossible to put aside.