Coastline Pilot

March 28, 2003

 

Chasing the Muse

By Catharine Cooper

 

Sycamores dress themselves in brilliant green and bright orange poppies blanket the hillsides.   A red tail soars overhead and everywhere mourning doves can be heard cooing.  The world renews itself as spring opens wide her arms.  Except in dark corners, where men hunt men with weapons and steeled intent.

 

When does a dove become a hawk become a dove?

 

In nature, never.  In human beings, often. 

 

My heart is heavy and sickened, my country at war.  Spaniards burn our flag in the streets and chant, “Hate America.”  Can they mean me?  Vigils twist to riots, and even the idea of peace is lost in the exchange.

 

Our communication system fuels the fire with minute-by-minute details of slaughter and incursion.  Reality TV has sunk to an all-time low.  The wonder of our connectedness provides for our spiritual failure.  We watch in hopes of seeing something grand, our appetites fueled by decades of escalation from Hollywood blockbusters.

 

CNN’s ‘ticker tape,’ crossing the bottom of a screen of talking heads, turns bombing and body counts into a lurching motion sound bite.  We turn on to find out, to not be left behind.  We hunger to know.  But to know what? 

 

Is it over yet?  Can I go back to normal life?  Will the stock market rise and my children live free from threats?  Did we get him?

 

The dove to the hawk to the dove.

 

In a balanced eco-system, the dove and hawk co-exist insuring the overall health of land in which they live.  The hawk weeds out the weak.   Humans are more complicated.  We have expanded cranial capacities with the power of complex thought and reasoning.  We protect.   We have choices. 

 

Freedom loving people have long acknowledged that with freedom, comes responsibility.  We have joined together to draft means for living with one another, sets of rules based on agreed behavior. 

When confronted with a person or group of people who pay no heed to our common code, we are stunned, surprised, and sometimes, incredulous. 

 

Richard Machowicz, my self-defense trainer, taught me to prevent myself from becoming prey.  He has taught me to see a potential attacker and to take action to protect myself.  A homeless drunk is likely not a threat, but can I discern the rapist, before he is close enough to cause me harm?

 

I am looking for analogy.  I am trying to see into the darkness and understand what is nearly impossible for me, because I live by reasoning. When threatened we have two choices:  Become unconscious and pretend that life is normal, or stand and fight.

 

I know that Saddam Hussein has murdered his own people and that he is an evil man.  I do not know that he intends to harm me, but those who now fight, believe that he does, and they have taken action. 

 

What can I hope for?  A swift and speedy resolution.  A minimal loss of lives.  The words sound trite, a chapter in some textbook, yet the dove clamors to fly again and again, even as the hawk hovers in the field.

 

In the face of confrontation, I continue to dream of resolution, of a planet in which we have put down all arms.  I continue to dream of a global population focused on eradicating disease, pollution, and yes, genocide.   Each morning I light a candle and dream of a day when wise men and peace will rule.

 

 

--xx--