Remembering the bigger picture..........

War. What is it good for?

In my view.....absolutely nothing.

I have, or so I have been told, a very busy mind.

And as of yet, ..... I have not managed to find an off-switch.

This can be problematic at times as it can make it very

hard for me to fall asleep at night.

Though I have not yet found an off-switch, I have found

a way to distract my busy mind enough in order

for the ''rest of me'' to fall asleep.

 I have re-discovered the radio.

 Not only that, I have found a radio station that plays

incredibly interesting and thought provoking ''talking'' 

programs all through the night. 

(Sort of like TED talks on interesting subjects but on the radio.)

Most of the time I fall asleep within an hour or so

but a few nights ago ......not so much.

-Why, is Pjutin doing this??!!! We have lost everything!!!

Every night we must spend under ground, no proper food,

no heat, no clean water, children scared, old people hurt!!

This war is crime, it is madness!!!

Bombs destroying and killing and everywhere everything

smashed, broken, and burned black.

The woman's voice broke and she burst into crying.

Laying in a comfortable bed in a comfortable room

in a comfortable house in a comfortable country,

I suddenly felt uncomfortable.

Actually, not only uncomfortable but also as if 

I had been reprimanded.

Deservedly so.

Granted, my past week had been a ''biggie'' with

my mother in hospital with Covid, the dentist telling

me I have to have a very expensive and painful procedure,

my son desperate and in pain, and my lower

jaw constantly dislocating itself causing a lot of pain.

But,

it could be worse.

I could be in Ukraine.

And have to deal with war on top of it.

What about all the people who were dealing with

incredibly difficult and heartbreaking issues already before

Pjutin decided to make their lives even worse by destroying

everything he could? 

Their homes, hospitals, schools, kindergartens, churches,

community centers, shops, infra structures, etc. etc. etc.

War is such a blunt instrument that even if Pjutin should ''win''

the war, he loses, because there will be nothing left of Ukraine

except for the ruins of a once beautiful country and culture.

''All war is a symptom of man's failure as a thinking

animal.'' (John Steinbeck)

''War does not determine who is right - only who is left.''

(Bertrand Russel)

It can be easy to become so wrapped up in one's own

trials and tribulations that one forgets about

the bigger perspective.

Like it's been said: ''He cried because he had no shoes

until he met a man who had no feet.'' 

I try to remind myself when I feel overwhelmed

by life that ''it could be worse, on top of everything

that seems so hard, at least there's no-one dropping

bombs on me.''

about the image: acrylic on large canvas

Title: ''Powerful men start wars, but the dying is done by the poor.''

This is when despair ends; Now This is when hope begins; Now

There may be things in life that we can afford

to lose,

but faith, hope and trust are not such things.

(Citizen Z)

 

-What's the point? We are not going to get any answers, my son says.

He is right of course, unless....unless a miracle takes place.

But I need to say something comforting, uplifting, encouraging,

because that's what parents do. 

As my son is getting out of the car at the hospital entrance

I tell him: ''I will have hope for the both of us.''

Without looking back he disappears into the hospital.

I park the car, grab a bottle of water and then head for

the elevators. 

Though I feel as if I have entered a maze, I eventually find 

my son sitting in a chair at the orthopedic specialist's reception.

A mere shadow of himself, skinny, gaunt and encircled with an

almost visible cloud of despair and sadness.

My job as a parent is to never, ever, give up on my son.

To never lose faith, hope and trust.

I sit down next to him and start flicking through a

magazine. 

I need to say something positive, something

uplifting, my mind tells me but experience has taught

me that saying stuff like that usually only tend to make

my son angry, so, I say nothing.

A few minutes later the orthopedic specialist does a little

prodding and questioning  and then eventually says ''sorry, I

really wish I could help, but whatever ails you is outside my

scope''.

In silence we walk back to the car. Each of us dealing

internally with yet another disappointment.

Only when we are in the car on the way home my son

finally speaks and says: I told you this was gonna happen.

I have no hope left.

I know I have to say something so I tell him that I still

have hope and will not give up.

Giving up is not an option for me.

As we pull up at home our cat Lovecraft is waiting

at the front door. 

My son feeds the cat, I turn on the kettle and make myself 

a cup of coffee.

Yet another fruitless excursion is over.

Sipping my coffee and thinking about how many times

we have ventured out to numerous appointments and meetings

with doctors, specialists, etc. etc. nursing waning tingles of

hope and faith only to have them crushed, I can't help

but wonder......where is that light at the end of the tunnel?

And yet.....

maybe.....?

Hope, although it may at times feel as if it is about to desert us,

is still always available to us.

Hope, as far as I can ascertain is a choice.

Despair says: it's not possible.

Hope says: why not?

Despair says: it's useless.

Hope says: it's not.

Despair says: hope's an illusion.

Hope says: hope's a solution.

Despair says: change is impossible.

Hope says: all things are possible.

Despair says: life is suffering.

Hope says: life is discovering.

Despair says: life is loneliness.

Hope says: life is boundless.

Despair says: hope is wishful thinking.

Hope says: despair is hopelessness thinking.

Despair says: there's no light at the end of the tunnel.

Hope says: there is always light, albeit ever so subtle.

This is when despair ends; Now.

This is when hope begins; Now.

about the image: acrylic on large canvas

Title: ''The burden of faith''

This painting is painted with a cloth only and no brushes

and is part of a series of black and white paintings

with a message.