Global Mourning. Acrylic 20 x 16”.
In the closing years of the Viet Nam war, I was an interim finance clerk in a bank, newly married to a church man who accused me of being radical because I wanted to help save the lives of Vietnamese children. The church man bank boss fired me when I told him what I was doing instead of fabricating a sick day.
A radio announcer related the horrors of orphaned children dying in the streets a world away and proposed if anyone wanted to “do something about it” they could come down to the station and help figure something out. A Trooper and I were the only ones to show up. An airlift was born. Sheer cussedness willed a collection of coins in bars, I bent the arm of every person I knew with phone calls while the trooper did the same. Enough quarters for a Flying Tigers charter, a willing pilot, nurses to tend the children, fuel and expenses. After the guys in the red tasseled hats figured out the idea would work they moved in with a telethon. The men took all credit. For some obscure reason I still have the posters, lists of persons who donated, and the reputation among church men of being a crazy radical. 300 infants and toddlers given a chance at life when they would have starved to their death in the carnage of war.
In the early days of youth and strength I moved mountains with will and a shovel.
The first impulse with Ukraine was again pick up a shovel.
I wanted to lie down beside the beautiful grandmother in her elegant gold coat and help her learn to shoot.
I wanted to carry children to the border.
I wanted to hold a bowl of soup for the starving in basement shelters.
I wanted to wish harm on mortal men turned monsters.
I wept until remembering there are powerful contributions to make after I’m unable to even lift the shovel. Energy and manifestations and prayer. Puny as a single human seeking audience with an impartial universe. Joined with millions, an invincible power. Easy to despair and disparage until we remember the physics of prayers and meditation. Particles and waves at work in the invisibles. An intention experiment in real time. Young people standing silent in Turkey. Russians facing imprisonment to protest. The hope for a world joined in the service of peace while my heart breaks with those who mourn.
Justification you may say, because in safety I can afford the luxury of prayers and meditation. You’re right and I’m thankful. The only way I maintain peace of mind when the world is in chaos and I feel people suffering is keep making authentic work until I fall into meditation and a greater energy than mine manifests and turns to collective solutions.