What to do with Grief after Public Incidents

 

It's 11:30 am. I have been up for 5 hours and I am still in my PJs. It's the day after the bombing at the Boston Marathon and I am feeling helpless and a bit demotivated. Why near the finishing line?  Is there something symbolic about that? My mind is searching for a logical answer to this guerrilla act.  Yet I know there is none. When this investigation is "officially" wrapped up, there will be no legitimate logic to this random destruction.

On days like today, I turn to poetry.  Except I cannot find a poem that speaks to me, one that changes how I feel. So it is to Yo-Yo-Ma's cello that I go for consolation.

I do not care today if the bank will agree to give me a loan modification or if I will be able to save enough money for that trip to Greece.

I know I, we must go on putting more good into the world. So I am going to get dressed and get to more work. I don't know what else to do.

 

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