I’ve spent this past week off Facebook. I’m still processing what I’ve learned. What I can say with certainty is that I’ve felt less stressed and I’ve been more productive.
Not grabbing my phone with every free minute, I’ve had more time to sit and think. I’ve paid closer attention to things, prayed more and read two books in less than a week.
One of the things I’ve been hyper focused on is the boys and their coach trapped in the cave. I’ve been obsessed with the story since I first heard they were missing. And then piece after piece made me more engrossed. The British divers who decided to go 400 meters further than they’d intended and discovered them. What if they hadn’t done that? What made them do it? The sheer will to help? How did they feel when they found them? I read that when the message was sent that they had been found and all were alive, people asked for a confirmation because they thought they had misheard.
And then the diver who died. The brave man bringing oxygen to 13 scared and helpless loves and then dying because of his lack of it. I can barely take it. I have cried and cried over this man I never met.
How was the coach feeling? How were the parents dealing with all of this? Were they able to sleep at all? I was LITERALLY ill over the thought of the boys having to dive their way out of the situation. When they first said they might have to stay in there for four months- I thought it was probably better than risking it any other way.
And the realization they were going to do the very difficult task of bringing them out.
I was enraptured. I was overwhelmed. I was in love with the world and how people from all over the globe were coming to help. And I thought about this. I thought about why I cried every time I read an update or heard a news story about these boys. And then it hit me. Because there are children, trapped, right here in my country whose parents don’t know if they’re dead or alive or if they’ll see them again. And they’re not receiving the attention, compassion or resources that the boys and man trapped in the cave are getting. We’ve told ourselves whatever story we must so that we can fall asleep each night. We’re hoping the government will do what they say and reunite these babies with their parents. And yet we read that attorneys leave cases for the weekend so they can assume their dog sitting duties. They’re more uncomfortable with a dog being in a cage than a human being.
And my heart hurts. It aches. It’s sick. I don’t have the answers. But I must sit in this space, in the discomfort. Because checking out is privilege and to be an ally- to care about these people as if they were my son or daughter, brother or sister, I must realize my complicity. I must face that we live in a world where I prosper, while others remain trapped. While many remain imprisoned.
I feel the tides within me shifting. I hope you’ll stick around and see where I end up. All my love, Gina.