Tuesday, January 10, 2017

The World My Kids Get

I have been too busy to blog, and it's likely that I'm too busy now.  My children are both at school, and I have a day at home.  I've done enough of learning the opera.  I always tell my students when they know it well enough that they feel absolutely sick of it, you can set aside the music and take a break.  Of course, I'll be working on it again tonight.

I don't know how to say the next part, except that suddenly I feel the world is sad all over.  I keep hoping my kids get something better than I got, but it seems doubtful.  Raising them in a "survivor" mentality, where they need to get enough skills to be "one of the lucky ones" while the poor get poorer, and violence is so constant and eruptive, and people hate each other just because they have different ideas of the way our country should be run.  . . it's ugly.

Appreciating the cute differences I have with other people has become a bag of what to say and what not to say at Christmas dinner.  My church is splintered, and I find all I want to do is jump from one worship place to another, in hopes that I hear compassion and empathy among those who believe what I do.  If my kids live in the country, I'm afraid they'll get shot at school, or maybe at a friend's house, where the parents thought it was not a big deal to tell me they've got loaded guns in the house.  If they live in the city, it'll be oversexualization, or drugs.

I don't know if I'm sad for them or myself.  Do you start taking anti depressants once you have these thoughts?  They don't make other people sad?  I guess I need to exercise, get some natural endorphins.  The bible says this is supposed to be ugly.  The hope comes after we die.  Here, now, I guess theology tells me it's just gonna get worse.  And sometimes I think maybe bringing kids into it wasn't so kind.

I guess I could have had kids 100 years ago, in an environment where there was no school, or women weren't allowed to speak in public, and maybe they wouldn't have had to worry about guns and drugs, but they might have gotten eaten by a wild animal.  Maybe things aren't worse, just dark.  Sometimes I sing Emily Salier's words to myself "My place is of the sun, and this place is of the dark, and I do not feel the romance, I do not catch the spark." Sometimes I just pray to take a day at a time, and dive into some housework.

I would love to imagine some utopia coming. I guess I'm just too old for that now.  At least I will get to watch my kids do that "hopeful, youthful" thing where they imagine the world better and try like hell to make that happen.  Thank God for the young.