Cultural item: Thoughts on the massacre in Paris

We are not just all connected, we are a single dreaming entity. Fish in a school, cells in a body, people on a planet. I’m devastated by the Paris events Friday; there are millions and nothings to say about it. Whatever your thoughts are, look: All I know is my heart is sad for a world I’m a part of, and built, and breathed, and dreamt into existence.
This dream you’re having now? It’s only you. There is no one else.

Sure, you can say that we ain’t God and didn’t create this world and Paris has nothing to do with me except how it kisses around the edges of my life as a city where I’ve travelled, and loved, and written–

(How will this change the world? Is change possible? Do we want it?! Who’s responsible for this? Is blame relevant?)

–But it’s false. More and more I see how no individual or event walks into my life without meaning. Everything is me : Paris is me : You are me : This email is a mirror : Hello, self.

And so I have asked myself, very seriously: If Paris is me, how have I created Paris? I knew Paris happened before I was even conscious; the night before I dreamt of a horrible massacre, with iPhones and blood. I woke up and heard the news:

Here I am.

So what now? Paris is just one event, one place, in this large time-lapse of planet Home. With chaos in the world and the heart, what are we good for? Continue grieving, continue seeking, continue learning, continue loving, continue to make beauty out of what’s painful. That’s what we do. That’s what we’re here for.

And what does this little speck do to transform pain into beauty? The only thing it knows. It makes art.