In the land of snark and honey…
“Well I’m glad to see that your dented spirits haven’t injured your tongue.” (Marilla Cuthbert, ‘Anne of Green Gables’)
It’s a half hour past Tuesday, and it’s already been a horrible week. Just a few days ago, we lived our small little lives in our corners of the world; today we are the united nations of Boston.
That it takes a tragedy to bring people closer together seems a tragedy in itself. But tragedy shouldn’t make our world view smaller, it should make us more aware of how much tragedy we are (blissfully?) unaware of. It should make us more vigilant about making change happen (and no, not just the hopey, changey stuff).
My world is very small. It’s the 10-block radius of my place of work where in the most rewarding, and yet mundane ways, I get to bring sweetness and light to the world.. It’s the commute back and forth. It’s the 25 miles I travel to see my family, when I can. And it’s here, in this amorphous space of the internet, where I spew truth and poison, the very expression of which provides a necessary relief.
But it’s our own small worlds that we can make a world of difference. You don’t know me, or know what I do in 3-D; nor I, you. I know that you and I will not travel to the heart of New England with our first aid kit in tow. We may not watch a concert-slash-telethon. We (I certainly won’t) will not post memes laced with platitudes and the best intentions. Bandwagons are not my preferred mode of travel, so I will not mask my dented spirit with honeyed tongue. Snarky is as snarky does. Despite this, believe you me, with real words, gestures, actions, we can make honey in the world.