Witnessing History

One man come in the name of love....
One man come and go.....
One man come to justify.....
One man to overthrow....

These words echoed and rocked out Washington, DC one clear day on January 18, 2009. The day before Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial Day, hundreds of thousands gathered in the bitter cold to witness something we never thought we would see in our lifetime. On the same steps that Dr. King and inspired us with his "I have a dream" speech 46 years earlier, we watched as another man, half-black, half-white, take the stage to soon become President. We watched world famous superstars share that stage, not to take the spotlight, but to honor two men. One would soon be swore-in to become President of the United States. The other, killed 40 years prior, stood as a global symbol of hope that changed the world forever.

Excerpt from MLK's "I have a dream" speech
We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God's children.

I can only imagine what it must have felt like to have been on those steps 46 years prior....our nation caught in a brutal war in which thousands were dying, men and women separated from eating together because of the color of their skin, and a revolution of anger and frustration boiling over. What must have it been like to hear a message that one day we would not be judged by the color of our skin, but by the content of our character. To us today, it seems incredulous. But it was just one generation previous. And to see that we have come so far in just one generation.

As Bono sang...its not just an American Dream anymore...its an Irish Dream, an African Dream, a Palestinian dream, a Sri Lankan Dream. A dream to live peacefully and co-exist. To not fight because of one's ethnic background or religion or beliefs. To be treated equally. And to see this dream realized this past weekend...well it was surreal. To be a part of such history. It was one of the most amazing sights I have ever seen or felt. The energy of the people. The unbelievable shock that this was actually happening. It wasn't a dream anymore. It was reality. We weren't fighting prejudice or hatred anymore. We had made it.

Yes we did. That was the sentiment of the day. And let me tell you....what a feeling it was. The air was charged. People were charged. Hugging, dancing, singing along to stars such as Bono, Beyoncee, Garth Brooks, Shakira, Bon Jovi, Stevie Wonder...the list went on and on. But the audience wasn't there for the performers. They had come from around the country to witness history and see Barack Obama inaugurated.

Its not about Obama-mania. Its about hope. Its about believing in our country. Its about inspiration. Its about change. Its about time.

Assassination

This one is a long one, but if you have the time its worth reading. Its re-posted from the New Yorker by an assassinated Sri Lankan editor.

January 12, 2009
Letter from the Grave

Last Thursday, Lasantha Wickramatunga, who was fifty-two years old and the editor of a Sri Lankan newspaper called the Sunday Leader, was assassinated on his way to work by two gunmen riding motorcycles. The Leader’s investigative reporting had been fiercely critical of the government and of the conduct of its war against Tamil separatists; Wickramatunga had been attacked before. He knew that he was likely to be murdered and so he wrote an essay with instructions that it be published only after his own death. Some mutual friends in the region sent a copy to me today. Read it in full below. It is like nothing else you will read today, that I promise.

A very brief bit of context: Sri Lanka’s government, drawing support from the island’s Sinhalese ethnic majority, has been at war since the nineteen-eighties with various militant separatist groups representing the country’s Tamil ethnic minority. In recent years, the war has narrowed to a contest between government troops and the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam, a group designated as a terrorist organization by the United States and others. The L.T.T.E. purports to speak for the aspirations of Tamil civilians, but it has conducted its campaign with child soldiers, suicide bombers, and other horrors. For its part, the Sri Lankan government has arranged for the disappearance and murder of uncounted numbers of Tamils, just as it “disappeared” and murdered thousands of its own Sinhalese citizens during an earlier period of counterinsurgency.

The country’s current president, Mahinda Rajapaksa, who is referred to in Wickramatunga’s essay, came to power emphasizing human rights and reform but has more recently pursued a military solution to his L.T.T.E. problem. Sri Lankan troops have lately marched deep into Tamil territory under a heavy veil of media censorship. Local journalists have been accused of disloyalty to the war, which has inspired or created a pretext for attacks against them and their offices. Wickramatunga believed that he would be killed, and the Sri Lankan government would be responsible for his murder.

According to media reports from Sri Lanka, the government has condemned Wickramatunga’s murder and ordered an investigation. Sri Lankan journalists and others today staged a silent march in Colombo, the capital, to protest his killing. Reporters Without Borders, a Paris-based group devoted to protecting journalists, issued a statement about Wickramatunga’s murder that said, “President Mahinda Rajapaksa, his associates and the government media are directly to blame because they incited hatred against him and allowed an outrageous level of impunity to develop as regards violence against the press.”

Here is his essay:

No other profession calls on its practitioners to lay down their lives for their art save the armed forces and, in Sri Lanka, journalism. In the course of the past few years, the independent media have increasingly come under attack. Electronic and print-media institutions have been burnt, bombed, sealed and coerced. Countless journalists have been harassed, threatened and killed. It has been my honor to belong to all those categories and now especially the last.

I have been in the business of journalism a good long time. Indeed, 2009 will be The Sunday Leader’s 15th year. Many things have changed in Sri Lanka during that time, and it does not need me to tell you that the greater part of that change has been for the worse. We find ourselves in the midst of a civil war ruthlessly prosecuted by protagonists whose bloodlust knows no bounds. Terror, whether perpetrated by terrorists or the state, has become the order of the day. Indeed, murder has become the primary tool whereby the state seeks to control the organs of liberty. Today it is the journalists, tomorrow it will be the judges. For neither group have the risks ever been higher or the stakes lower.

Why then do we do it? I often wonder that. After all, I too am a husband, and the father of three wonderful children. I too have responsibilities and obligations that transcend my profession, be it the law or journalism. Is it worth the risk? Many people tell me it is not. Friends tell me to revert to the bar, and goodness knows it offers a better and safer livelihood. Others, including political leaders on both sides, have at various times sought to induce me to take to politics, going so far as to offer me ministries of my choice. Diplomats, recognizing the risk journalists face in Sri Lanka, have offered me safe passage and the right of residence in their countries. Whatever else I may have been stuck for, I have not been stuck for choice.

But there is a calling that is yet above high office, fame, lucre and security. It is the call of conscience.

The Sunday Leader has been a controversial newspaper because we say it like we see it: whether it be a spade, a thief or a murderer, we call it by that name. We do not hide behind euphemism. The investigative articles we print are supported by documentary evidence thanks to the public-spiritedness of citizens who at great risk to themselves pass on this material to us. We have exposed scandal after scandal, and never once in these 15 years has anyone proved us wrong or successfully prosecuted us.

The free media serve as a mirror in which the public can see itself sans mascara and styling gel. From us you learn the state of your nation, and especially its management by the people you elected to give your children a better future. Sometimes the image you see in that mirror is not a pleasant one. But while you may grumble in the privacy of your armchair, the journalists who hold the mirror up to you do so publicly and at great risk to themselves. That is our calling, and we do not shirk it.

Every newspaper has its angle, and we do not hide the fact that we have ours. Our commitment is to see Sri Lanka as a transparent, secular, liberal democracy. Think about those words, for they each has profound meaning. Transparent because government must be openly accountable to the people and never abuse their trust. Secular because in a multi-ethnic and multi-cultural society such as ours, secularism offers the only common ground by which we might all be united. Liberal because we recognize that all human beings are created different, and we need to accept others for what they are and not what we would like them to be. And democratic… well, if you need me to explain why that is important, you’d best stop buying this paper.

The Sunday Leader has never sought safety by unquestioningly articulating the majority view. Let’s face it, that is the way to sell newspapers. On the contrary, as our opinion pieces over the years amply demonstrate, we often voice ideas that many people find distasteful. For example, we have consistently espoused the view that while separatist terrorism must be eradicated, it is more important to address the root causes of terrorism, and urged government to view Sri Lanka’s ethnic strife in the context of history and not through the telescope of terrorism. We have also agitated against state terrorism in the so-called war against terror, and made no secret of our horror that Sri Lanka is the only country in the world routinely to bomb its own citizens. For these views we have been labeled traitors, and if this be treachery, we wear that label proudly.

Many people suspect that The Sunday Leader has a political agenda: it does not. If we appear more critical of the government than of the opposition it is only because we believe that - pray excuse cricketing argot - there is no point in bowling to the fielding side. Remember that for the few years of our existence in which the UNP was in office, we proved to be the biggest thorn in its flesh, exposing excess and corruption wherever it occurred. Indeed, the steady stream of embarrassing exposes we published may well have served to precipitate the downfall of that government.

Neither should our distaste for the war be interpreted to mean that we support the Tigers. The LTTE are among the most ruthless and bloodthirsty organizations ever to have infested the planet. There is no gainsaying that it must be eradicated. But to do so by violating the rights of Tamil citizens, bombing and shooting them mercilessly, is not only wrong but shames the Sinhalese, whose claim to be custodians of the dhamma is forever called into question by this savagery, much of which is unknown to the public because of censorship.

What is more, a military occupation of the country’s north and east will require the Tamil people of those regions to live eternally as second-class citizens, deprived of all self respect. Do not imagine that you can placate them by showering “development” and “reconstruction” on them in the post-war era. The wounds of war will scar them forever, and you will also have an even more bitter and hateful Diaspora to contend with. A problem amenable to a political solution will thus become a festering wound that will yield strife for all eternity. If I seem angry and frustrated, it is only because most of my countrymen - and all of the government - cannot see this writing so plainly on the wall.

It is well known that I was on two occasions brutally assaulted, while on another my house was sprayed with machine-gun fire. Despite the government’s sanctimonious assurances, there was never a serious police inquiry into the perpetrators of these attacks, and the attackers were never apprehended. In all these cases, I have reason to believe the attacks were inspired by the government. When finally I am killed, it will be the government that kills me.

The irony in this is that, unknown to most of the public, Mahinda and I have been friends for more than a quarter century. Indeed, I suspect that I am one of the few people remaining who routinely addresses him by his first name and uses the familiar Sinhala address oya when talking to him. Although I do not attend the meetings he periodically holds for newspaper editors, hardly a month passes when we do not meet, privately or with a few close friends present, late at night at President’s House. There we swap yarns, discuss politics and joke about the good old days. A few remarks to him would therefore be in order here.

Mahinda, when you finally fought your way to the SLFP presidential nomination in 2005, nowhere were you welcomed more warmly than in this column. Indeed, we broke with a decade of tradition by referring to you throughout by your first name. So well known were your commitments to human rights and liberal values that we ushered you in like a breath of fresh air. Then, through an act of folly, you got yourself involved in the Helping Hambantota scandal. It was after a lot of soul-searching that we broke the story, at the same time urging you to return the money. By the time you did so several weeks later, a great blow had been struck to your reputation. It is one you are still trying to live down.

You have told me yourself that you were not greedy for the presidency. You did not have to hanker after it: it fell into your lap. You have told me that your sons are your greatest joy, and that you love spending time with them, leaving your brothers to operate the machinery of state. Now, it is clear to all who will see that that machinery has operated so well that my sons and daughter do not themselves have a father.

In the wake of my death I know you will make all the usual sanctimonious noises and call upon the police to hold a swift and thorough inquiry. But like all the inquiries you have ordered in the past, nothing will come of this one, too. For truth be told, we both know who will be behind my death, but dare not call his name. Not just my life, but yours too, depends on it.

Sadly, for all the dreams you had for our country in your younger days, in just three years you have reduced it to rubble. In the name of patriotism you have trampled on human rights, nurtured unbridled corruption and squandered public money like no other President before you. Indeed, your conduct has been like a small child suddenly let loose in a toyshop. That analogy is perhaps inapt because no child could have caused so much blood to be spilled on this land as you have, or trampled on the rights of its citizens as you do. Although you are now so drunk with power that you cannot see it, you will come to regret your sons having so rich an inheritance of blood. It can only bring tragedy. As for me, it is with a clear conscience that I go to meet my Maker. I wish, when your time finally comes, you could do the same. I wish.

As for me, I have the satisfaction of knowing that I walked tall and bowed to no man. And I have not travelled this journey alone. Fellow journalists in other branches of the media walked with me: most of them are now dead, imprisoned without trial or exiled in far-off lands. Others walk in the shadow of death that your Presidency has cast on the freedoms for which you once fought so hard. You will never be allowed to forget that my death took place under your watch. As anguished as I know you will be, I also know that you will have no choice but to protect my killers: you will see to it that the guilty one is never convicted. You have no choice. I feel sorry for you, and Shiranthi will have a long time to spend on her knees when next she goes for Confession for it is not just her owns sins which she must confess, but those of her extended family that keeps you in office.

As for the readers of The Sunday Leader, what can I say but Thank You for supporting our mission. We have espoused unpopular causes, stood up for those too feeble to stand up for themselves, locked horns with the high and mighty so swollen with power that they have forgotten their roots, exposed corruption and the waste of your hard-earned tax rupees, and made sure that whatever the propaganda of the day, you were allowed to hear a contrary view. For this I - and my family - have now paid the price that I have long known I will one day have to pay. I am - and have always been - ready for that. I have done nothing to prevent this outcome: no security, no precautions. I want my murderer to know that I am not a coward like he is, hiding behind human shields while condemning thousands of innocents to death. What am I among so many? It has long been written that my life would be taken, and by whom. All that remains to be written is when.

That The Sunday Leader will continue fighting the good fight, too, is written. For I did not fight this fight alone. Many more of us have to be - and will be - killed before The Leader is laid to rest. I hope my assassination will be seen not as a defeat of freedom but an inspiration for those who survive to step up their efforts. Indeed, I hope that it will help galvanise forces that will usher in a new era of human liberty in our beloved motherland. I also hope it will open the eyes of your President to the fact that however many are slaughtered in the name of patriotism, the human spirit will endure and flourish. Not all the Rajapakses combined can kill that.

People often ask me why I take such risks and tell me it is a matter of time before I am bumped off. Of course I know that: it is inevitable. But if we do not speak out now, there will be no one left to speak for those who cannot, whether they be ethnic minorities, the disadvantaged or the persecuted. An example that has inspired me throughout my career in journalism has been that of the German theologian, Martin Niemoller. In his youth he was an anti-Semite and an admirer of Hitler. As Nazism took hold in Germany, however, he saw Nazism for what it was: it was not just the Jews Hitler sought to extirpate, it was just about anyone with an alternate point of view. Niemoller spoke out, and for his trouble was incarcerated in the Sachsenhausen and Dachau concentration camps from 1937 to 1945, and very nearly executed. While incarcerated, Niem0ller wrote a poem that, from the first time I read it in my teenage years, stuck hauntingly in my mind:

First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left to speak out for me.

If you remember nothing else, remember this: The Leader is there for you, be you Sinhalese, Tamil, Muslim, low-caste, homosexual, dissident or disabled. Its staff will fight on, unbowed and unafraid, with the courage to which you have become accustomed. Do not take that commitment for granted. Let there be no doubt that whatever sacrifices we journalists make, they are not made for our own glory or enrichment: they are made for you. Whether you deserve their sacrifice is another matter. As for me, God knows I tried.

Inspiration to Action

Inspiration. How does one get to the point that you feel like actually doing the thing that you are thinking about. What does it take to move someone to actually take action.....to actually do instead of think, hope, wish.....what was it about Barack Obama that led to so many people into action....rather than just simply talk? Do you think it would be possible that Obama arose to be a superstar on his own, or was it the movement that surrounded him that launched him to the top? I think his ascendancy shows us one of the few times in history when a community comes around a leader to push forward something new. Was it his charismatic nature or was it the thousands of volunteers that he attracted to campaign to devote themselves - day and night....to quit their day jobs...that led to the win? Was it the community or was it him?

I would say that it was a little of both...a perfect medium of sorts. Think about the civil rights movement.....would it have been as successful without MLK, Jr? Would MLK, Jr. have been as successful without the civil rights movement? Would we have ended segregation without the battle of thousands of people just like you and I? What is to say that we cannot create our own sort of change today?

I feel that we have a unique opportunity right now. Our generation is witnessing the first time in our history that we can actually bring about a major shift in society....something comparable to the tumultous 60's and the late 30's during FDR. Do we have to accept things as they are? No, we don't. If you think about it, its the perfect time. Our economy just almost blew up in our faces due to poor regulation and overzealous bankers. Iraq has finally calmed down, thanks to our hundreds of millions of dollars, but at the expense of Afghanistan and many other countries. Israel looks poised to basically take over Gaza, and yet again, subject the Palestinians to another occupation. Detroit is on the verge of finally accepting there is such a thing as Climate Change and that perhaps if they had recognized it earlier they may not be requesting a bail-out from the taxpayer. And I'm hoping...that the taxpayer is slowly realizing, that our capitalist system, is not truly capitalist. Its actually turned socialist...but not for those that need it most, but for those that it serves...the people at the top of the ladder that make the system run...but at what cost?

Can any one person change this? No, of course not. Obama is not some sort of messiah...he's not the god-send as some would have it that will solve all the problems we as a nation have ever endured. But he is a voice. A voice of a new generation. Of a new America. And we must use it, we cannot let this chance go.

We have a unique opportunity....an opportunity to see things change as they never have. We have someone at the head of the government that came from community organizing. So if we are truly inspired...if we truly believe in the possiblity of change....if we truly have hope for progress...then we can take that inspiration and change it into action.

Anticipation

So I live in the nation's capital and as you can imagine, with less than 7 days to go until the new President is sworn in, the city is a buzz with anticipation. Its a little crazy actually because its as if Washington, DC is preparing for its messiah to arrive. His every move is being captured by the media and people are already expecting statehood to be around the corner. If it all seems a little over the top, it really isn't. This city has been waiting for this moment for a long time...I have been waiting for this moment for a long time.....I think the U.S. has been waiting for this....the world has been waiting....

For those that were here on election night, it really was one of the few times our generation was able to have a positive - "Where were you when...." moment. What an amazing, unbelievable night to watch a man named "Barack Hussein Obama" elected as our President. The streets came alive, and for just a moment, I felt like we had a sense of identity - of unity - that I had never felt before. The high continued for a few days and eventually wore off....until this week...when people are again charged with excitement and anticipation.

Yet, why are so many of us choosing to spend the day at home to watch this historic moment from the comfort of our living rooms - when we live just footsteps from the action? Trust me, I considered it seriously as well - I am from Florida and we just don't do cold weather...and people, let me tell ya - it is bone chillin cold here these days....ok, maybe thats a slight exaggeration...but its cold. Yes, the city has made it next to impossible for anyone to easily enter or move about except by foot. But I think there's something so momentous about this. How amazing that 1 million people are expected to attend an event in the freezing weather, by walking or metro, to watch one man sworn into office? I feel like this will be one of those moments that we will remember for the rest of our lives (not just because we lost all sensation in our feet and fingers while surrounded by 999,999,999 strangers) but because we witnessed history being made.....when the son of a goat farmer from Kenya, raised by his single mother and grandparents partly in Hawaii, with a brief stint in Indonesia, becomes the President of the U.S.

If ever I had hope in the betterment of our country, of our world - it is now. Not just because of Obama...but because of the energy of people...its like we are all feeling alive again and remembering that things DONT have to be the way are. That maybe, just maybe, its not wrong to think that we can make things a little better.....allow children to have health care, require accountability from our leaders, and hopefully be a part of the process.

Next Tuesday will be the culmination of weeks of anticipation for DC residents. Many have been preparing for months or years, whether it be through campaigning, fundraising, or simply politicking (a common way to spend time in our oh-so-exciting nation's capital). But I hope we don't lose sight of the bigger picture among all the inaugural balls, concerts, and parties. Yes, of course, its a time to celebrate - "Yes we did" as the saying goes. But lets not forget.....nothing has happened just yet to actually to "change" a thing. I hope we are able to channel all the positive energy and excitement and anticipation into real action. Because that will be the real challenge...and I don't think the burden should just fall upon the new adminstration or the new leaders in Congres.....its up to us to hold them to their promises and help them bring about change.

Attack of the Drones

Is it just me, or are we slowly all becoming more and more robotic in life? Or maybe time has always been this way and I am just observing what is an inevitable phenomenon. Maybe we are all fated to become more and more like each other as we strive to achieve "success". But doesn't it seem like there was a time when individuality was valued - where artistic ability was treasured more than efficiency?

Take for example architecture. It used to be that buildings were constructed not just efficiently and squeezed for space, but for aesthetics as well. But it seems to me like most modern architecture has taken the theme of "minimalism" to a new level and just simply cut corners in order to achieve a more cost effective, quicker way of building. The result? Buildings that feel cold and empty....made for robots without a soul.

What happens eventually is that we all start living and working in environments that are identical and we lose the uniqueness that makes New York what it is, or makes Madrid what it is, or makes Bombay what it is. Sure, we have remnants of older buildings, but soon enough we'll tear those down to build new, ugly, identical buildings that might be energy efficient, but lack any soul.

I do not want to travel the world in 30 years to see cities that mimic the same, cheap architecture that now epitimizes American buildings. But I'm afraid to see that it is already happening. Anyone been to Guatamala City lately? Or Managua? Or San Salvador? Ugh. Its like we took the worst of the tacky Floridian architecture and just exported it to places that once had their own style. Its so depressing to see people walking around these identical shopping malls - like drones - shopping at the same exact stores we shop at in the U.S. and Europe.

So I've been told my posts are a little too long. I'll cut this one short by saying....save yourself. Watch out for the attack of the drones.....

Red Wine

mmmmm....yummy. Red Red Wiiiiine.......makes me forget that I am....oh wait, that's a song. But what a good song. And about something soo goood. Now that is something I can appreciate. If you haven't done it yet this week....kick back, open a bottle of wine, and just sniff and sip. Don't do anything else. Just savor it. Now that is a moment of your life you will never get back, but guess what....that pleasure is opening your senses. Red wine is meant to be sensed...by your tongue, by your nose, by your eyes.....its about feeling....mmmm.....what luxury. what decadence. what pleasure. What is more human?

I think we all need more red wine in the world. I mean new studies come out every week promoting the benefits of a glass of red wine a day to your health. Hey, anything that good, can't be bad. Sure, ok, in large doses it may make us do some silly things.....like that time I had to go to the bathroom and I....wait....I am digressing again. Damn it. Damn that red wine! Oh, but it is sooo good. Right, so what was I saying...yes, the benefits of red wine and what would happen if we all just enjoyed more wine. Maybe, just maybe, people would just chill out more. Maybe our politicians wouldn't be soooo obsessed with gaining more power. Maybe our corporate leaders wouldn't focus on that last bottom line. Maybe our parents wouldn't snap at their kids for dropping their ice cream cone. Maybe...maybe...things would be easier, slower, like the whole world was on slow play.

Now that would be nice. Sometimes, when I drink wine, I feel sleepy. But maybe thats how I am supposed to feel...and the wine is just bringing it out. Ok, yes, people I DO know that alcohol is a depressant. Just work with me here, ok? What if, red wine, brings out the truth in all of us? Makes us feel and be our true selves.....maybe then we wouldn't get so angry at stupid things and we wouldn't stress so much about unimportant issues. Maybe, we would all just see things as they are supposed to be. Ok, am I sounding alcoholic now? Really, I'm not...I swear....oh, just one more glass. ok, what was I saying again? Oh right...the world on red wine.....now that would be a fun world to live in. I bet we'd have shorter work days, more vacation time, longer dinners, less t.v., and happier people.

So what's stopping us? Nothin people! So get on it and lets start this revolution together!!!! Everyone open up that bottle of wine and save the cork. Share that bottle with your favorite person(s) and savor it...but don't do anything else. Just for a few minutes now....imagine..what would the whole world look like if we did this together? Maybe the bombings would stop. Maybe the rockets would pause. Maybe we'd drop the guns. Maybe we'd smile. Maybe we'd forget just for a moment our worries. And maybe we'd see that we are all the same at the end of the day. That you and I enjoy one thing in common....red wine.

Just "be"

Change. I've been waiting a long time for it. They say Obama is gonna be the one to bring it. But why do we have to wait? Why can't we do it on our own? Why can't you and I, just go out there and start doing the things we believe in, the things we care about. Why? Because we are stuck.

We are all in some ways caught up in our life with all the things that occupy us, but don't let us truly grow. Sure, its not all just work.....at least I hope not. But even the things that bring us momentary happines...a night out with friends, dancing to that favorite college hit, going to the movies, eating a scrumptous dinner...occupy our time and bring our life into a routine. Social networks and contributions beyond oneself are critical to any one's well being, but when socializing, working, and family time take over one's life....well what happens to you? You lose yourself. You lose yourself in things, in people, in work, and you escape.

Escaping is nice. I, myself, love a night of gettin my groove on or cookin a fabulous meal. But if I don't make time to think, to rest, to sleep, to just "be" as my parents would always say - well I lose myself. To take time out is to start to build yourself. To start to think. To face the real you. And that's when change starts. Otherwise, your life is purely reactive...reacting to all the forces of gravity that pull you in a million directions. But once you step out of that. Well...the possibilities are limitless.

I think its important that in today's world, we shouldn't get lost in all of our obligations. That we don't let our lives be ruled by others - whether its work or friends or family. But for us to really achieve growth as a society....to experience the beauty of human liberty.....we need space for individuals to just "be".

the indestructible human spirit

Ok, I don't want this to be depressing, so I will try my best to provide a positive spin on what I am about to discuss next. But its about war. War, death, and violence. I don't really understand it so I want to see if by blogging on it, I can get more clarity and help myself find a way to channel my thoughts and dreams into something bigger. I hope those of you who read this, will provide your honest feedback and share your thoughts as well. And maybe, its possible that we can all build something bigger from this.

Ok, I digress....I do that a lot as you will soon see. War, death, and violence. Why do we as humans thrive on this? Why do we feel the need to create havoc in an otherwise simple life? Is it greed? Power? Egotism? Or is there ever a true justification for it?

Take Israel and Palestine..... a war that has been ongoing for over 60 years! Yet, the world just watches on. Its like we are all happy to watch it on the news, as long as its not in our backyard. Well, I just don't understand it. Why do we let this continue? Oh yes, I know there are a million reasons why both sides are "justified"...from biblical times I am told. But seriously people. There is no reason why thousands of innocent people should be made to suffer day in and day out because of geo-political bull#@(&! I mean seriously, what the hell does that mean anyway?

I feel like more and more, with the growing new political order - we as humans are losing our sensitivity to the world. We just watch the news like drones, feel sad for the people we see, and then move on. Even those involved with humanitarian assistance...at some point you become de-sensitized to it. Why? Because its too much for any one person to process? Or is it our way of coping?

Well, I'd like to encourage everyone out there to feel what is happening the next time they watch the news or read an article. Feel just for a moment what it must be like to lose your child to a tank shell. Or feel the heartache of losing your life savings in the house that was just destroyed. Or the pain in your grandparents face as they watch a lifetime of non-stop violence. Feel it and absorb it, but don't let it bring you down. Because at the end of the day, the human spirit grows with every emotion it feels. And just maybe, if we allow ourselves to feel the pain of others - even those we do not know but simply watch on t.v. - we might actually build our own spirit. We might find ways of seeing things in a different light, appreciating the things we have, and caring and feeling for those around us.

At the end of the day, no matter how much war, death, and violence humanity incurs, there is still the human spirit that is indestructible. The spirit of those that continue to live life, find joy in things and continue to smile. Those people living in the refugee camps do not live life in a depressed state at all times. Yes, they have incurred immense travesties that no one should have to live through. But they still find a way to get up and live their life. Now, that is what I call indestructible.