Sometimes, enough is enough

Sometimes I am pathetic.

It’s true.

Sometimes I am utterly pathetic, because when there is something ‘bad’ going on in the world, sometimes I shut my eyes and I choose to switch off.

Sometimes, I switch off the telly because it upsets me to see the devastating effects of a natural disaster in all its technicolour high-definition imagery, or to view the horrific impact of war-torn countries on the innocent victims trying to maintain their existence against all the odds, or to watch the ‘sad parts’ of Comic Relief.

Sometimes, I avoid looking at the newspapers in the local shop, because I don’t want to see the pictures of the terrible accident that has caused so many people to lose their lives, or to read about the victims of a crime, or an illness, or a disease.

Sometimes I run away from reality as fast as my mind can take me. I watch, listen to, read and interact with utter tripe. Empty, shallow, reality tv programmes, unrealistic glossy magazines, silly, idealistic chick-lit.

Because sometimes, I just don’t want to know about real life.

Well lucky old me.

Lucky old me that I can switch off the telly, or the radio, or the computer and make all the badness go away.

Lucky old me that I can look away, turn my back, shut my eyes.

Lucky old me that I have these choices.

It’s pathetic and I shamefully admit it.

And today, after months of not quite getting round to my blog because it felt just a bit ‘too much’ for a while, I saw one of the most gut-wrenching images I have seen in years on the news, of a beautiful little boy who had lost his life during his family’s escape to find a better one. And I felt so angry and so ashamed.

Angry for the loss of another beautiful life. And so ashamed of myself for thinking for one second that my life had been tricky at times, that sometimes I’d been struggling, that sometimes my tears had been worth their salt.

And I opened my eyes and stayed tuned in, kept watching, and hoping, and praying, that something would change and put all this devastation to an end.

That somebody who could, would do something they should, to make these images go away. Not from the telly – from these people’s lives. To make it stop.

Because sometimes, enough is enough.

I am lucky.

I look around me and see nothing but choices, what to wear, what to eat, what to do.

And good or bad, I can make decisions because I have choices.

And I know.

I know where I live, I know where I’ll be sleeping tonight, I know I’ll be warm, and dry, and safe.

I know I am loved and I have my life with my beautiful family ahead of me.

I know that I am lucky.

But I am just a human being. I don’t deserve these choices or this luck any more than any of my fellow human beings.

So what’s my point?

We are all human, and sometimes all we want to do is shut our eyes, escape reality. But that is a choice, a privileged choice.

And we need to keep our eyes open. To see the world in all its pain and glory. To focus on what we have, and not what we don’t have, to show kindness and compassion, and to think about others instead of ourselves.

Because if we don’t open our eyes how can we even begin to help. To change things. To make things better.

So that’s my aim.

To open my eyes, appreciate my choices. To uphold the responsibility to make sure our children always appreciate their privileges and choices.

And to do what I can to help someone else have choices too.

Because sometimes, enough is enough.

Donna xxx

Please share this if you too think that sometimes, enough is enough.

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