foam

I called my boss this morning and told her i was a little under the weather and would be coming in 30mins later than usual, and she said - "No H, you take the day off, relax, watch a movie and don't smoke. We're going on a mission tomorrow and i don't want you ill. And that's an order"

Yes ma'am.

The last 2 weeks of my working life has been the most gratifying yet surreal in my career history to date. Unfortunately i can't blog the details, or i would have to kill all the blog readers (ok only this bit of cheese for the post...) But while immensely fulfilling it was also a drain. And i was just damn tired.

So i did as told. I watched a movie i never had time to see but i always wanted to, also given line of work.

I saw Hotel Rwanda.

Throughout the movie i was either biting my fingers, curling my toes, jumping up and down or sobbing hysterically.

After the movie i read the papers. Someone's husband of 10 hours died in a freak accident. And someone elses son who just graduated with a business degree. And a daughter who was 'the hope of the family'.

Last week my girl Miss J was told her mother had stage 4 cancer.

We are so amazingly fragile. Like foamy bubbles. We seem like so many, crowding and jostling against each other,multiplying with water. Yet so easily pricked and vanished into thin air.

But we behave like we would live forever. Answerable to No One, Invincible. Lords of our Own Destiny. Captains of Our Ships. Masters of the Universe.

But we're actually just Foam.

And while i see so much pain and suffering, particularly with this job, i just can't get a handle on it.

How do people go through what they do? How do i live in moments that my husband was gunned down in front of a grocery store and died cradled in my arms, how do i breathe while i'm stripped naked and bare, waiting to be raped by men/animals, how do i perservere through being trapped under heaps of rubble and cement with my body twisted in an unnatural position with no food and water for days, how do i face walking down the street with hatred and stigma against my being and my person, how do i deal with the persecution of people of a faith hijacked by terrorists.

Most of all, how do i watch while people are chopped, stabbed, shot, oppressed, bullied, starving, diseased, hungry, hopeless, listless, depressed, anti-social, angry, vengeful, desperate, inhumane.

And behave as if i would live forever and be unanswerable to anything that surrounds me.

Last week i saw people in such fear, that fear itself was an energy - palpable, throbbing, pulsating. Overwhelming. Terrifying.

They recounted the source of their fear. The suffering and the pain and the torture.

And although this sounds really crazy, after a while, I looked at some of these people - and they were beautiful. Through the tears and sorrow - they were shining, I swear to God. I just can't explain it. Stoicism?

Does suffering bring out our finest side? Does it temper our ego, pride, selfishness and greed and make us dignified and strong? Is that what its all about?

How many of us can be like that? Most would just fall on the wayside, together with everything that makes us human and feeling and compassionate.

I just can't figure it out.

But i can't get them out of my mind.

Inner beauty, like i've never seen it before. Is this what its all about?

The prize?