Nepal vs. Baltimore

The sensational news these past few days. We go between the struggles of watching the earthquake in Nepal, to riots in Baltimore. I said to Chris while we were eating dinner last night that I feel like I am in the early 1960’s. Why is there so much struggle with race, color, and violence? Such different issues in different parts of the world. In Nepal they did not ask for an earthquake and yet look at how the world is coming together (as often happens with natural disasters)? I received a notice from my company to donate, Facebook reminds me, there are mentions all over social media to donate and support the victims of this massive earthquake. We donate because we care. We donate because we know one day we could be in a similar situation. We donate because that is what we do — we take care of others.

Why then do we then see the juxtaposition of rioting, looting, fires — a war zone in Baltimore? How is it that we can see such generosity and such anger? Both situations have a result of pain, but different triggers of that pain. I am not going to even give my opinion one way or other as to the situation that occurred to cause this anguish. I had not actually followed what happened. What sparks my interest are the actions of those that are reacting. How is that living a non-violent approach? The police officers in the earlier incident could have very much been in the wrong, and it could also be a misunderstanding. It makes no sense to me that the result is that individuals feel they can damage liquor stores, throw bricks at cops, and burn and destroy public property. It completely diverts from the actual original issue. Others no longer see what actually happened. The issue is lost because all the people can see (my view completely) is their reaction.

It reminds me of a kid that does not get their way. What do they do? They throw a temper tantrum. They lie on the floor and keep their feet and whine and moan. Sometimes they use violence by kicking their parents or a sibling. Sometimes they might punch a wall, break something, or destroy an object to prove their point. Basically, I watch what is happening in Baltimore and what was happening in Missouri and I think stop it all. Stop acting like children. Stop with the news frenzied temper tantrums. Grow up, use your words, and make change in other meaningful ways. Ways that have a lasting effect.

We all have those days when we want to pitch a fit, but deep down we never want to steal, destroy, or hurt someone else. We want to be seen and heard. The individuals in Baltimore may be acting out because they feel an injustice has been done. They want to be seen and heard. Yet, there is a part of me that feels they do it because they can. They do it so they can try to prove a point, but in turn they lose a lot of credibility. In the words of many parents, I just want to yell: “Use your words.” We have got to stop this violence and instead put our focus on Nepal and other areas of the world that truly need our help.

Middle of night ramblings

I think I should write a book in my sleep.

Occasionally (Chris would probably rebut that comment and say often), I talk in my sleep. He thinks it happens when I work too much and have tons and tons of information coursing through my mind. Yet, the most recent occurrence happened around the holiday, when my brain was mush, and there was a tiny fraction of thoughts flowing in my head. My recent middle of the night rambling:

1:45 a.m.
[Tami rolls over in bed.]

T: Put them in a pile. Put them in a pile in the middle of the floor.
C: Put what in a pile?
T: The sticks that are meant for play. I think I know what I’m talking about.
C: Ok babe.

Chris has learned it is best to agree with me in these moments. We have been married for 11.5 years. He has learned over time about my late night babble. It is like an alter ego comes forth via my subconscious and I can snarl, cuss, and disagree. Since everything makes sense in my unconscious mind while I sleep (it does for everyone, right)? Early on in our marriage I would talk and he would find it fascinating and ask me questions about my babble, if he disagreed with me I got a bit aggressive back at him. For example: if he said you cannot put sticks in a pile, I would snarl and get confused and frustrated as to why not.

Over time he realized that I would wake up in the morning and have no remembrance of our conversation, what I was talking about, or my reaction. He decided he would just agree with me. So if I said there are sticks coming out of my head, take them out. He might say something like: “okay, I did, is that better?” Agreeing meant that I could babble all I wanted, but not have to process why it was not logical or made no sense (thus last week’s ramble).

My husband is a saint. I think he should start to write down all my middle of the night ramblings, and we can compile and publish them together. A coffee table book?