and it happens again and again and again.

how do you mourn when it just won’t stop?

when our ancestors created mourning rituals, did they account for genocide? or endless war? or mass murderers? or did they assume our world would always account for human dignity? and that just one person would die at a time? from natural causes? or at the worst, some accident?

some days, the only thing that feels right is nihilism. complete lack of meaning. what is the point of being born if you’re just going to be mowed down like ants at a picnic? hopelessness.

but then you see this. amid the threatening clouds and the sprinkles of rain promising a true storm. a rainbow.

deep breath.

it’s not that the hopelessness of nihilism goes away. or that suddenly everything is ok.

it’s that for a second you’re not alone. the universe shares the burden.

compassion.

and now i share it with you.
may you be free from suffering. you be safe.

may you be free.