Damage . . .

😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡

Dear you:


Closing out August and grateful for allies abroad who are tolerating our President and “handling” him.  Still, the Amazon is burning.  And we hash-tag away (#PrayForAmazonas) and hope.  Fire fighters and troops are acting, or so I am told.  This is beyond grief.  Yet another beyond grief moment during the Trump era.  That is the zoom-out perspective.  Here is the zoom-in, back at the Villas in Seagrove Beach:


The fall school session relieved us from massive children invasions, to an extent.  But others still appear with parents and baffle me.  Why aren’t they in school?  Oh, they are probably home-schooled.  Fine.  But, more importantly, why are they SCREAMING and having tantrums?  This morning, enjoying my coffee on the south landing, I heard “NO, NO, NO” over and over.  Yes, I know, young ones have fits and yell.  But this was weird and went on for an hour.  (I stepped out on the landing again later for a smoke and the drama continued.) I felt bad for the child and his parents.  This was not an abusive situation.  It seemed to be just a situation, an angry kid situation.  But what is happening here?  Why does this scream-tantrum festival happen so frequently in this zone?  Are our children as broken and fearful as our world, our leaders, our “adults”?


The CDC gave me some data that answers the question or is the beginning of another question:

Approximately 4.5 million children aged 3-17 have a diagnosed behavior problem.  Approximately 4.4 million have diagnosed anxiety.  Approximately 1.9 million have diagnosed depression.  (www.cdc.org)

Millions of damaged young humans.  What causes this dis-ease?  Bad food, lack of interaction with the natural world, weak parenting, social media (yawn, not that again), or the relentless popularity of The Real Housewives of _____________ series?


I don’t know. But something tells me a lack of being outside our own noise and noisy heads has something to do with it.  Be here now.  Let it be.  Don’t cry over spilled milk.  Mantras.  They probably don’t help.  However, given an opportunity, I would like to tell these little screamers that they have power; life is short; and most of all:

DON’T LET THE BASTARDS GET YOU DOWN.


Easier said than done.


Cheers to the day, to you, and good luck to Puerto Rico as Dorian approaches.  (Dear Dorian:  Could you please shift towards the Amazon and drop your rains there?)

Love,

Joyce