Sensory Overload
I feel bombarded by television, radio, cell phones, and yes ... the internet. There is so much information at my fingertips, but most of it seems pretty worthless. Do I need to know that there was another bombing in Iraq, or that (surprise, surprise) the government of Iran wants to wipe Israel off the face of the earth?
I know the answer is "yes." But the information tends to make me feel an unsavory helplessness. I guess I could write my congressman and my senators, but I honestly don't think that would help much. I'm really not even sure what I would say.
What is there to say? Could I say anything they haven't heard before?
These days, I tend to think that "no news is good news". Instead of reading about what other people are doing, I try to get out of the house and do something myself. I drink my coffee, take long walks, read essays or thoughtful fiction. These activities are far less glamorous or interesting than anything we'd read or hear about on the news. But I feel a little less helpless when I take a walk, write a letter, or cook a good meal.
My walk through the woods seems much more relevant to me than a bombing in a town on the other side of the world. Especially since I cannot help the bombing victims with their severed limbs and shattered lives.
Some days all I can do is use the limbs I have, and try my best to keep my own life together.
I know the answer is "yes." But the information tends to make me feel an unsavory helplessness. I guess I could write my congressman and my senators, but I honestly don't think that would help much. I'm really not even sure what I would say.
What is there to say? Could I say anything they haven't heard before?
These days, I tend to think that "no news is good news". Instead of reading about what other people are doing, I try to get out of the house and do something myself. I drink my coffee, take long walks, read essays or thoughtful fiction. These activities are far less glamorous or interesting than anything we'd read or hear about on the news. But I feel a little less helpless when I take a walk, write a letter, or cook a good meal.
My walk through the woods seems much more relevant to me than a bombing in a town on the other side of the world. Especially since I cannot help the bombing victims with their severed limbs and shattered lives.
Some days all I can do is use the limbs I have, and try my best to keep my own life together.