And the Sun Will Rise Again

HOLY.         Shit.
 
I mean…WHAT……… the…. HELL?
 
I’m awake. 5:57 a.m. Tomorrow is my one day off of the week. Should be sleeping. No. Should be sleeping in (most especially since we drank like fish last night).
 
The heat from the floorboard drums as it futilely tries to augment the chill of the room.
 
Each second --- Tick. Tick. Tick. --- is neatly recorded by the clock hanging on the wall in front of me.
 
The silence is deafening.
 
NPR. Let’s get some NPR streaming. Better. But… then… then the story repeats.
 
I glance down at my event sheet; the ‘what’, ‘when’, ‘who’, ‘how’, ‘expected number of guests’. My introductory and welcome notes to the ‘crowd’ mock me.  
 
Oh good.  There’s a smudge on the table -- another thing to clean – another distraction. Some words are just… too hard to write, I suppose.
 
The dissembled apartment from a hurried evening has been fully mopped up. Dishes, done. Jackets, hung. Event items – tablecloth, swag giveaways, AV/tech equipment, sign in sheet – all neatly reorganized and tucked away.  
 
Now. Time to face this. Time to write.
 
Readers, I must ask, what is wrong with this world? Can anybody provide an answer? Anyone?
 
We live in a world where innocent people are attacked – murdered, beheaded, gunned down – pretty much every day. It’s in the news nearly. Every. Day!!! And… for… what???
 
I had a beautiful event planned last night. An event where people could get together and learn about climate change -- The science. The facts. The accounts. The evidence.  An event where people could eat, drink and be merry with other people from across the isle. I hoped they would meet and learn from one another – with one another. I envisioned an event where people could avoid the feelings of despair and denial, and instead, be uplifted and ready for action.
 
And then 4:57 p.m. happened. Fifty-seven minutes after the set-up of the event; three minutes prior to my own arrival.
 
Dear Watch Party Hosts, 
 
Given the recent tragic events in our host city, we’re suspending the broadcast in solidarity with the City of Paris. We would also ask that you discontinue any promotion of our event at this time on social media. We are sure you understand this decision and hope you join us in sending thoughts and prayers to the French people at this time. We are incredibly appreciative of your willingness to participate in 24 Hours and Live Earth: The World is Watching and will be in touch soon about continuing our work together. 
 
This word, “solidarity” repeats in my mind. Solidarity. ‘In solidarity we stand.’ A unity or agreement of a shared feeling or action; a unity among individuals with a common interest, mission or purpose; support; mutual support of members of a group… or………….. a group of terrorists?
 
I mean isn’t that what they are? A unified, solid group of human beings all dedicated to the ‘mission’ of issuing terror upon people whose names and souls are unknown to them? No real cause for the wrath. No motive. Simply, terror.
 
So what value is held in a word like “solidarity”? Where’s the value, when it can be used both for good… and for evil? What’s the point?
 
Shortly after the 4:57 p.m. email sent out last night, I received another email, this one from a fellow Climate Reality Leader in Colorado. In the email she expressed her sorrow for the events in Paris, and that she would postpone her attendance until it could be rescheduled. Makes sense. Makes sense why our event sheet had zero signees.
 
So. We drank. I suppose… we drowned our sorrows.
 
But I awoke far earlier than my body desired. For my mind was wracked, and my heart was heavy.
 
I responded to that fellow Coloradan CR Leader. In that response I admitted to her that, sometimes, the events of this world make me wonder… wonder why we – people like she and I – even care so much to save it…
 
Why? Why even bother?
 
But… when I woke up this morning – before the sun even peaked over the horizon, before the clouds were tinted pink, before the birds began to sing – I looked to my left to adore my sleeping love. I stroked his hair and moved close to his face. I whispered in his ear… and told him to never… never go away. “Never, never” he repeated.

Pretty silly, right? But we agreed. It's a compact! ;-) 
 
I don't know guys. I guess... maybe instead of asking what is wrong the world, I ought to ask, what is right? Until you – or Pope Francis, or Francois Hollande, or Al Gore – can provide a different answer, that’s what I’ll go with. And that’s pretty damn good.
 
6:59 a.m. The sun is beginning to crescent. And I’m going back to bed.