faces of flowers

I'm not sure how one looks into the face of such emptiness, of such rage.

At the end of the day yesterday, the lab went out for beers at Moe's - to celebrate many things, but mostly to just step out of our work day and to celebrate that.  The entire day had been one of small conversations:  about guns, gun control, about why a 23-yr old would need a Glock, about why a 23-yr old would need that much ammunition, about compassion, intervention, and civil liberties, we talked about the coral holobiont and how to organize a review article with a microbial focus, about silly games that allow one to throw their hands up over their heads and shout out 'I win!!!' with glee, about how to handle 'los leaners' for a Cinco de Mayo game of horseshoes.  We talked about a man that dresses up each Sunday in a different and brightly colored suit for church services and about neighborhoods with real rich color.  On the way home I drove by the candlelight vigil for Virginia Tech.  I was late, but there were still a few candles burning.

I don't know how to look into the face of such rage.  I look into the faces of flowers, and I'm not equipped to handle such rage coupled to such sadness.  But in all of the chatter about how to stop this kind of thing from happening, I still can't help but think that each of us, individually, need to be more responsible.  I don't know about the intricacies of the mental health system, but I know that it fails many.  But someone from my group said something very important yesterday:  it has also helped many.  College campus counseling centers, at Virginia Tech and elsewhere, have helped many people.  As have other mental health institutions.  But maybe we all need to be more aware, and take on a greater amount of responsibility with respect to the people that are around us.  Someone posted a comment on this site this week about how their University president sent an email out to everyone on campus about how they needed to watch out for each other, in the caring sense, and to not be afraid to reach out for help.  Every college campus should receive such a message, and I am disappointed that my institution has not reached out to it's community in anyway as of yet. 

I need time in the garden now, and I need to look into the faces of the new flowers that are opening up in my garden every morning now.  I saw my first ruby-throated hummingbird this morning, also checking out those faces - I'm glad that they are back with us here.

But that rage is haunting.

 

Comments

[KGMom]

Ah, the healing power of gardening.
The flowers are lovely--and looking at them is restorative, after all the horror of the VA Tech tragedy.

[Christopher C in Hawaii]

Reaching out is a difficult thing, a fine line to walk between caring and concern and butting in. Often help can be outright rejected because the person in pain just isn't thinking right. They may view your actions and suggestions as interference with their rights to their own choices.

The best we can do most times is be open and aware enough to help when someone reaches out to us.

I look at your flower closeups and I am already wanting to upgrade to a new and better camera. Are you using a tripod to steady the camera?

You can get very close and look at these flowers in intimate detail and so much still remains a mystery, just like the thoughts in other people's minds.

[Syd]

Fear of being rejected can prevent reaching out to someone who needs it. I think that it is a responsibility to not only ask for help but to give it or at least offer it. I wonder how many people we have passed by in our busy lives who really need a word of encouragement and even some validation that they are really alive. It's the only thing that we truly can offer someone who is so desolate and lonely.

[Pam]

KGMom: Thank you. What a week it has been - it still seems so unreal.

CC in Hawaii: I agree, it isn't always so easy. And I don't think that it always possible. My University finally sent out an appalling message (the joy of working with a gazillion MDs) - and said that his faculty were trained in dealing with stress in students (huh? training? did I miss that day?) and that his screening during the application process was so finely tuned that we only accepted 'mentally healthy' and 'well-adjusted' students. Geez. The arrogance and naiveness in those statements floored me. Nope, no tripod, and I've yet to read my camera's manual (which is not necessarily something that I am proud of). I just have a decent hand and a Nikon Coolpix 8700 with a nice macro lens (although I desperately want to upgrade to a D80 but think I'll build a house instead).

Syd: I really agree. We need to be much more compassionate in our daily lives, and we get so busy with silly things that we forget. I've been so upset this week about my own universities response to the trajedy - the arrogance in the response (above) because it completely ignores the possibility that someone might be hurting who received that email. His email that went out to everyone basically would make someone having trouble feel more invisible than they already do. It was inexcusable and I wish I had tenure already.