The truth is I'm struggling. I feel heavy and close to tears and not quite right a lot of the time. Since the drama with my left breast at the start of the year I've gotten quite good at staying focused on the good in my world, at counting my blessings, at surrounding myself with kindness and protecting myself. But over the past little while the big wide world has snuck in with its frosty tentacles and weighed me down like a rock. I feel terrible and don't know what to do about anything.
How can I explain to our children that we expect them to behave with kindness and compassion to their fellow human beings, when our country's leaders often do not?
How can I listen to global stories of horror and atrocity and not take them personally?
How can I keep up with the wars and the bombings and the treatment of people less fortunate than ourselves without it making me sick?
How can I come to terms with the fact that we are just so incredibly lucky, without the guilt that attaches itself to that feeling?
How can I complain about head-lice, about the crazy cold, about the mess and about not sleeping at night, without feeling petty?
How can I be a human being and not imagine myself in the place of the hungry and the desperate and the terrified?
How can I switch off from all the big bad news as a fellow member of the human race?
How do I make sense of war, of refugees, of poverty, of the death of innocent children and parents and grandparents to my kids, when I cannot even come to terms with it myself?
I have no answers right now, only more and more questions.
For now I can only keep breathing, keep looking after my crew and holding them tight and keep growing awesome food.
And counting my blessings. Often.
Big love my friends, and peace.