I started this post two or three days ago, but the title still applies, so I'll just go with it.
It snows here. A lot. Most days of the week anyway. Yesterday I saw a bit of sunshine through a more thin layer of cloud cover, but I am longing for blue skies -and I've been told those won't be back until April. I'm in for a long wait, I guess. I'm also looking into buying a happy light. I think I might need one of those.
Back in my youth, my high school years, and into my college years I followed news, local and global. I read papers, and listened to AM radio stations. I read books that tackled social and political issues. I cared, deeply, about the events going on in the world around me. I felt like somehow, someway, someday I'd be able to DO something that would make a difference in this crazy, broken world and that my caring and my effort would matter.
I believe that when we feel so fueled by something that is worthy and good that those feelings are inspired. That somehow we're tapping into a line of energy that is provided us by our Creator to fulfill a purpose he has for us, a work we have been given to do.
As I grew older, however, I also grew more feeling. More sensitive. More compassionate. So much so that when I see a wound on another person's body -especially someone I love- I feel the pain of it in my own body. It's a strange phenomenon. One I share with my mother. I always thought she was crazy and dramatic until the day it happened to me first hand. So go ahead and believe that I'm crazy and dramatic, I understand. It doesn't change what is true for me though. I tend feel other's pain in a very real way. I take in the energy of the people and things around me.
Watching the news, reading the news, became more and more painful. Physically and emotionally exhausting for me. Around this time I was also getting married and setting up a home. A home that I wanted to be a refuge and a sanctuary. A place of peace. To find that peace, I gradually separated myself from caring about the things going on in the world. I focused on myself and my family and my little circle of life. This all coincided with the most difficult year of my life to date, when I was ridiculously busy, over-stressed, under-nourished, and barely hanging on. It was an easy shift to make, really. I didn't have time for the news. It was a burden in my life, so I cut it out.
There is bliss in ignorance.
I live in a happy little world. A cozy little house, with lights glowing from the windows. A place where people are generally good, and neighbors are trust-worthy. My little world is really more like the world my great-great grandparents grew up in. I realize this isn't reality, but for the last 8 years? this has been the only reality that I've felt capable of coping with.
Lately, however, I've been taking peeks outside the windows of my own safe shelter. These haven't necessarily been voluntary peeks, but rather specific people and situations that I'm beginning to feel may have been divinely appointed to me. I'm being forced to notice the snow outside my window.
I've been wrestling with the "what can I do?" question. In my world, awareness without action is violation of integrity.
I haven't fully sorted this out yet.
But last night I realized that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and the Gospel of Jesus Christ is the best (and dare I say only) hope for this world. My reach may not extend much past my own doorstep, but His reach is over ALL.