A heart that breaks

A heart that breaks

I told Archie last night that sometimes I wished I didn’t care. About the Orange Man, the billionaire dickheads all over the world who don’t give a shit about the gap between those who have and those who don’t. I wished I didn’t care about the people who skip meals because they can’t afford to eat or about this upcoming election. And finally, I wished I didn’t care about Palestine.

But I do care. Because I have a pulse. Because of my two. Because I am human. Archie then said to me, “mum you can go to bed at night knowing that if you were living in Nazi Germany, you would be doing something. Most people can’t say that anymore, but you can.”

At the same time, I received a lovely message from someone I admire on social media and it said, “Lara, rest easy every night knowing you are a part of the essence of a better world. Not meant to be cheesy, just a genuine thank you for your commitment and authenticity.”

Both Archie & my friend made me cry. I am so overwhelmed by what is happening in the world. The horrors in Gaza and the West Bank are escalating at a devastating rate and those in charge have complete impunity. They are saying the quiet parts out loud; it is about a land grab and the erasure of the Palestinian people. That little 3-month-old headless baby that was held to the sky this week – she was Hamas. That evil entity was “defending itself” as it executed 15 zip-tied Red Cross Workers and buried them in the sand. The two words ‘Hamas’ and ‘antisemitism’ give them licence to do whatever they want. End of story. Now let’s kill them all.  

My friend Oday said this morning, “Oh, the pain in my heart. I can’t describe the intense distress I feel inside” and I am so glad my heart is breaking. Because that broken heart can also feel immense joy, see beauty and be constantly enraptured and grateful about my fortunate little life. My broken heart reminds me that humanity is not a choice. My broken heart gives me hope even on the days when I feel completely overwhelmed and for a moment, I cowardly wish I didn’t care.

A heart that breaks

I am thankful

that my heart breaks

because it means

my spirit hasn’t,

and that

my humanity

remains intact.