On sadness, anger, and the end of a wrenching year

It’s a hard thing to define, this sadness.

I’m sad in the way we’re all sad, grieving from a place so deep inside that we only see it when something happens that our minds find literally unthinkable, so the shock and the anger and the sadness all come together into a white-hot arrow of pain that shoots all the way down into our souls, into the part where we hold everything that can’t be easily sorted and filed. Simple beliefs in goodness and right, memories of childhood happy moments, ideals and dreams and wishes and ice cream and secret smiles. When that part of you is disrupted, there are no words.

For me, the aftermath has been nearly as bad as Friday itself. People screaming at each other on social networks, in the comments under news stories, in e-mail, even in person. We’re angry, and somehow we think that fighting among ourselves is going to fix it. We seem to believe that shouting our political views at each other, decorated with a few nasty barbs and a little name-calling, will take us all 28 steps back and somehow stop the devastation from happening.

What are we doing? We are friends. We are family. At least we were until this apparent collective decision to put our socio-political beliefs ahead of our relationships. That this tragedy happened at the end of a year already torn to pieces by the warring sides in the presidential race is beyond unfortunate.  For me, it was the last straw. If our politics have rendered us unable to be civil to each other and completely out of touch with our humanity, then I am irreparably heartbroken.

We can blame the shooter, we can blame the government, we can blame the media, and we can blame each other, but at what point do we ask ourselves “What can I do differently now?” It’s an uncomfortable question. It’s far easier to point a trembling finger at those who don’t agree with us.

I am going to be stepping away for awhile. I need a break from all forms of social media, including this column. I will be back at some point, but for right now I need to shut out all the vitriol and spend time alone, in prayer and meditation, looking deep inside myself to find that seed of belief that there is still hope for us, there is still good out there, and that I can still change the world. If I lose that, I’ve lost everything.