Everything is going to be alright.
I am always secretly a little paranoid about my notebooks. I am that person. The one who dumps her unfiltered thoughts and opinions into notebooks and journals. Really, it’s better that way. If I didn’t purge some of the excess mental cogitation somewhere, it might end up bursting out of me in a really unfortunate moment of poor judgment.
Case in point: I was in a meeting recently where someone posted a scathing (and thinly-veiled) Facebook critique of another attendee, forgetting that Facebook has foreshortened the law of six degrees of separation by several degrees (to roughly five minutes). This lead to a painfully awkward moment when the offended person read the status aloud to the entire room, and pointed out that “While I’m not in your network, lots of people are in both your network and mine. One of them felt like passing it along.”
But even if one of my journals ended up in the wrong hands, it’d be okay. Far worse things have happened. Everything ends up alright, eventually.
Alright is a highly subjective state, though.
I’m a mystic at heart, which means I truly believe the words of Julian of Norwich, “And all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” For me, being a mystic simply means I don’t need to know the mechanics of the divine to believe in the divine. I’m okay with a certain level of mystery and the unknowable. And I understand that “everything will be alright” doesn’t mean “everything will work out the way I think it ought to work out, with a nice, pain-free resolution for everybody.” I am blessed with the ability to believe that in some way that I don’t really understand, everything works out in the end.
But the end can be a long time coming.
Everything will be alright, but some things seriously suck before you get to the “alright” part. Some things, you should definitely avoid if you possibly can.
One of my kids got a death threat last week.
Hearing that a kid was taken off the school grounds in handcuffs by the police because the kid had a “hit list” that included one of your children is one of those things that sucks and should be avoided if you can possibly manage it.
It’s especially not fun to get this news via text message during a business dinner when you’re in another state. Because that makes it really difficult to immediately begin digging a bunker in your back yard, so you can stock it with canned goods and wi-fi and insist your family move in for the next decade or so. That was my initial reaction, anyway.
But there’s plenty of heartache to go around. The parents of the other kids that were threatened. The parents of the kid who was removed from school. (I know them. They’re good people. Who are probably as baffled as the rest of us by this.) The kid himself—because if he was serious about it, how does a thirteen year old kid get to that dark a place? And how scary is it to be in that place, where that seems like a viable choice? And if he wasn’t serious, if he was just trying to freak people out, or build a “rep” (whatever that means), he’s getting a harsh lesson in “why there are some things you just don’t say, and certainly don’t put in writing.”
Which brings me back to my original thought. Everything will be alright. I wish I could give all the parents, kids and teachers involved a giant hug, and say “Everything will be alright. I know you don’t necessarily believe that now. I know you might not be able to see it now. But it will. Someday all this will be a bad memory. How bad a memory is largely up to you, and what you do next.”