I'm sure I'm not the only one who's overcome with this horrible feeling that nothing I write means anything anymore. I catch myself thinking, "Ok, who do I want to propose to today?" and then I think, "Why bother?" Not that I've really been thinking that, but it illustrates my point. My day-to-day life seems so ridiculous now. It seems so completely boring and small compared to the headlined news that I finally shut off but still the traces linger in my head. The goofy anecdotes, the stories, the poetry...I think, does anyone even give a rat's ass anymore? Why is it that I feel that everything I write here should now be something profound? Something so much more full of meaning than anything I wrote before? I suppose it is natural to search for words to fix things. After all, that is my business. People get hurt. I write words that fix things. I speak to jurors and judges and tell them, "This needs fixing." I wait for verdicts with white knuckles, nervous...but still always certain that things will be fixed. I've always been certain of that. Proud that I help people. Proud that I stand up for the weak and voiceless. That I roar with their stories, feeling like Clarence Darrow or Atticus Finch in a pair of heels. Knowing that my friends on other side of the room were just as committed to doing right by the Constitution...even when their clients were despicable, we all had a sense that we were doing just what we should be doing. That we were fighting the good fight...even from different perspectives. All of what's happened has made me maudlin. It's made me feel stupid and small, and worse...trivial. It's made me want to push my breath into the hollow of your neck, to lie down with you and forget anything else but flesh, to look at your eyes and know that there's still someone who really sees that I'm still here. I want to tell you about my day, and laugh about almost being thrown in jail for contempt of court by the crazy judge...you know, the one we always giggle about. To have you brush my hair back from my face and tell me yet again that my Irish temper will be the end of me. I want to tell you about the boys. How they found a clear green marble yesterday in the dirt and told me that they were sure it must be a treasure that someone had buried a long time ago. How Max told me that he was sure the treasure had some sort of magical powers, but he just had to figure out the right words to make it work. I just want to find the right words. But how do you find magical words when you feel that your voice has left you?

From: [identity profile] kytty.livejournal.com


If there is a positive value to trauma, I think that it would be a clearer focus on the fact that the way we spend our time, the words we speak, and the way we use our resources can really have a large impact. It makes me sad to say that I feel a greater sense of connection to many of the people who's posts I read since thoughts have turned to "what can we do to make a difference" and really giving thoughtful probe to the stratified nature of the world and how it feels to know we aren't really as safe as the trivialities of our focus before Tuesday would suggest. When in survival mode, people focus on what is really important...there isn't room for the trivial. That doesn't mean we can't have joy or, better yet, a sense of satisfaction in working together to resolve conflict, but it does mean that we have an opportunity to take some time to decide if that dollar is really going to where it is most useful, or could my words have put the seed of a different perspective in someone's thoughts, or is spending my time with friends at a movie really more satisfying than spending my time with friends volunteering at the food pantry or animal shelter.

I see trauma every day. I feel the terror of people in foreign countries suffering the consequences of decisions made by first world nations. I feel the terror of the squirrel or raccoon just before it was hit by the speeding vehicle. I have since I was very young. This is the gitt of trauma...the heightened sensitivity to suffering and the wish for justice. The ability to put one's self in the position of the traumatized because one really knows how it feels instead of just voicing a few sugary words and walking by to spend time focused on the trivial. Instead of thinking, how can I spend my time and money to give myself the most status, the question becomes, how can I spend my time to decrease the suffering of others, just as I would have liked to have had my suffering decreased. I added you to my friends list because you focus on seeking justice for the vulnerable and I admire you so much for that.

From: [identity profile] jaarronn.livejournal.com

and I admire you too


Since you do not know me, please forgive my barging in here; wedging my way between your most thoughtful words in reply to "Catelin". By way of introduction, or at least connection, I am also one of Catelin's LJ friends and quite humbly feel truly honored to be so. She is a remarkable person in so many ways - too many to expand upon here, but you know of them I'm sure.(Undoubtedly, she'll say, "Aw, shucks!...Come on now, Jaarron!", when she reads this!)

Anyway, I just wanted to say to you that although everything you've written here speaks of someone who is compassionate and deeply thoughtful, it was your last paragraph that struck me and prompted me to write. For better or worse, I too am someone who, even from the time when I was very young, has always felt the terror of the innocents, particularly animals, that are injured and killed, either on the roads and highways, or at the hands of sheerly mindless and cruel people. Over the years I have found and taken so many animals and birds to wildlife rehabilitators and have also volunteered my services at them as well. Such experiences have the effect of having to almost constantly struggle to keep a balanced view of humanity. On the one hand, the rage I feel when I see and feel the effects of some people's total disregard for life of all kinds - and, on the other, the thankfulness for those who tirelessly give of themselves to heal. In the end, I can only hope that it is all truly "yin" and "yang"

From: [identity profile] kytty.livejournal.com

and I admire you too


Such experiences have the effect of having to almost constantly struggle to keep a balanced view of humanity. On the one hand, the rage I feel when I see and feel the effects of some people's total disregard for life of all kinds - and, on the other, the thankfulness for those who tirelessly give of themselves to heal. In the end, I can only hope that it is all truly "yin" and "yang"

Ahhh, you have expressed the struggle so nicely. Those who have the power and resources to act but who do not are also a source of frustration for me. And I am afraid that I believe that it is this group that makes the majority. I will hope that this will change, though.

Your words are very kind and your investment in helping the vulnerable makes me smile. Thank you for that.
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From: [identity profile] catelin.livejournal.com


What an eloquent post...and so true. Thank you for sharing that with us.
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