“I love you.”
“I’m sorry.”
Those were the final text messages from an Israeli-American young man to his mom. Soon after, he was captured and taken hostage by the terrorist group, Hamas.
The mother, appearing in the New York Times’ podcast, The Daily, spoke of the significance of those two messages.
The first — “I love you” — was to say how her son felt.
The second — “I’m sorry” — was in anticipation that what was about to happen would cause her great pain.
I listened to this podcast while walking my dog on a beautiful, Fall afternoon.
I was free of any danger.
There was nothing to worry about.
That contrast overwhelmed me.
I felt impotent.
I was overcome with sadness and grief.
I could not make sense of the senseless violence halfway around the world.
There is a word for this experience: weltschmerz.
In German, it means “world pain.”
Our awareness of all the suffering in the world can cause weariness and melancholy.
In the novel, Free Fall in Crimson, weltschmerz is described as “homesickness for a place you have never seen.”
Homesick — or longing — for a place that you have never seen.
A place that is free of disease and hunger.
Where there is no violence or pain. Where we all live in harmony with the planet.
But where does such a place exist beyond our wildest dreams?
It doesn’t.
And, thus, we are forced to either sit with this pain — and accept it — or soothe ourselves in the ignorant bliss of a warm and cozy Pumpkin Spice latte.
So, what can we do about it?
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