Wrapped around my baby’s smell and the softness of her touch, I know it is time to write again. A part of me waits to ask the cynical questions when she falls peacefully asleep. Wouldn’t bother her with it.

The last couple of years I did my very best to create, acknowledge, and help as much as  I can. And without shame, I can say that I am truly proud of myself. Proud that I embraced a journey of neverending deep self-actualization that let me admit my deepest fears. Proud that (finally) I know (most) of my triggers. Proud that against all odds managed to start a family and to have a partnership where I am falling in love every other month. Proud.

And yet.

I am laying in my over-occupied bed and wonder what is the meaning of it. Of this life. Of this society that has become so damn hurtful. Because for the first time in many many years I am truly happy. In my family. In my work. In my close circle. And yet everything outside looks so painfully lost.

So lost, that I am questioning whether is it beyond saving or if there is still lingering hope.

And I am truly looking for the meaning of all of this. I wish I could know the way around it and extract some deep wisdom from it, but the reality hits hard. A war started two borders away from us when I was five months pregnant. True war with all its horrors. Hate grew faster than the speed of light. People lost themselves in polar opinions and started to believe fanatically in saviors and enslavers not knowing who is who. Being different became once more an offense. And at some point became more important to be argumentatively right instead of good, empathizing and helpful.

What the F*CK.

We did not order this, my dears.

Somehow I was under the impression that we are here to save the environment, support vulnerable groups, and end abuse of any kind. To build a better tomorrow. I thought we are here to experience life as it is and help each other. To love each other. I thought that it is a matter of a decade or two before we will be able to live in a wonderful place.  So sweet of me, I know.

So I wonder are we so damn hurt to create all of this dreadful mess? Are we?

Cause if we truly are that broken, better start some redemption really fast, or we are lost for good. The last wake-up call is here.

We can hate only as much as we are hurt.

Let’s start some recovery.

Velina