Yesterday was some day. Even by recent standards, waking up to news of tragic events in Nice would be shocking enough, but throw in a military coup in Turkey too and it’s beginning to feel apocalyptic.
Things are beginning to feel very unstable and unfamiliar, and a little frightening. I can feel something in the air; a group tension growing increasingly thicker…waiting for the next upset. Will this next one be worse? Will it be close? Will it hurt them or their loved ones?
But… we are still here. There is still some normality; there is still a great deal of goodness and hope all around us.
For many children and teachers, it’s the first day of summer holidays – a day when we wake up and we really hear the breeze outside, and birds chirping, and the soft hum of cars on the road, and the sense that summer is finally here with all wonder that it brings.
I can feel that in the air too.
Of course, it’s okay to be upset by current events; it’s okay to feel a little scared; it’s okay to nod along when your cantankerous elderly relatives moan that ‘the world is going to hell in a hand basket.’
But don’t be consumed by it.
When you’re learning to drive, your instructor always tell you – look at where you want the car to go. Because wherever you look, that’s where you’ll drive. If you stare intently at the hazard ahead, gripped with panic, you’re going to drive into it and crash. If you look at the road ahead but keep the hazards in sight, you might worry a little as you drive, but you’ll get to where you’re going in one piece.
The only solution is to look at the road ahead; to keep driving.
The only way to fight hate is with love and hope.
I’ve no doubt that the road ahead is going to be bumpy – at points it might be bloody dangerous – but that doesn’t mean we can’t wind down the car window and listen to the birds singing, and feel the warmth of the sun as we drive on.