I had plans this morning to go to Tel Aviv. Just for a few meetings, and then lunch before catching the train back home. The sun was shining at full-tilt, the sky a perfect blue. (Winter is on a break, for now, and well grab any sunlight we can before another storm comes.) I put on skinny jeans, and a tank top. My favorite scarf — the one with the swirling patterns in winter colors, ruby, teal, and charcoal. Lipgloss and mascara. A dab of Aquolina Pink Sugar behind my ears. I zipped up my boots. I had plans this morning to go to Tel Aviv. And then this: There was a terror attack in Tel Aviv. A busload of passengers stabbed in the middle of this too-beautiful January morning. Blood spilled all over, just a few blocks away from where I planned to sit in the heart of Tel Aviv. . The sun went behind a cloud. The sky darkened — that blue was too pure to last. God, it got so cold all of a sudden and I pulled the scarf around me. I had plans this morning to go to Tel Aviv, but now I’m scared. And that’s the f&cked up thing about terrorism. It isn’t like during a war when you have your sirens and your iron dome and your scramble to your shelter. There’s no warning. There isn’t a clearly defined border of time from that first shot until the cease fire. There’s no time frame. Terror turns your world upside down, even when all is quiet, because then it is too quiet and you’re waiting. And that’s the point. Terrorists want us to feel afraid, to question each step, each choice to live our lives in this land. Because when this happens, when we’re afraid, when we measure each day in “what if,” we aren’t really living “Aroma looks too crowded – it’s too easy a target. Let’s just go home.” “Wouldn’t it be better if we spent the weekend inside?” “I’d love to get together today, but I’m afraid to take the bus.” I had plans this morning to go to Tel Aviv. I checked my phone. No updates. There are people in the hospital, their lives are still in danger. Take care of my kids if something happens to me, the bus driver told his friend. I had plans this morning to go to Tel Aviv. My life is on hold while I hold my breath, waiting, wondering. Do I cancel? I should cancel. This one event has shaken me because it could be anyone, anywhere at any time. Toronto. Tokyo. Tulsa. Toulouse. Tel Aviv. It could have been me. It could have been you. And that’s where it hits me in that breath. It wasn’t me. I’m still here, and I refuse to be paralyzed by this. I refuse to stay inside, because guess what? The sun’s still out. It’s still a beautiful day. And I’m alive — No, actually I’m living. So I’ll take that breath and keep on breathing, keep on walking, keep on BEING. Because f*ck you, terrorism. So, I get on the bus. Because I HAVE meetings today, followed by lunch. I HAVE plans this morning to go to Tel Aviv. And terrorism can go f%ck itself.
Posted on: Wed, 21 Jan 2015 10:05:03 +0000
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