I walked into our bedroom in the
midst of the evening news. The TV screen
was filled with the warning of an imminent nuclear attack with the emphatic
statement “This is NOT a drill!” In the
split second of seeing the announcement on the screen, I felt the terrible
adrenalin surge of fear. A sense of
unreality filled my field of vision - along with an “O God - It is
happening!” And then in a fraction of a
second, the newscast continued with the story of the mistaken alarm that had terrified the people
of Hawaii - warning of an incoming ballistic missile aimed at that lush,
beautiful, often dreamed of corner of the world.
I had trouble falling asleep that
night and when I finally did, my sleep was broken and restless. At around 3 AM I laid there and asked myself
“What’s going on - What is disturbing my rest?”
In an instant the answer came clear.
On a physical level, my body was still processing the adrenaline surge
that came with the fear associated with those few seconds of partial truth as I
responded to the notice on the TV screen.
But beyond that realization, I also knew that old, deeply seated
anxieties were being activated again - memories going back more than 60 years.



I realized that so little has
changed since the nuclear threat trauma of
my childhood. We seem to still
live with the mentality that there will be a safe place to hide - that we can
protect ourselves by retreating to a room without windows, that the mountains
away from a city will provide safe haven.
I am just waiting for the government’s instructions to keep a supply of
white sheets handy to wrap ourselves in as protection from radiation.
At the highest levels of government,
nuclear sword rattling seems to be a fun game between bullies who have no
grounding in the history of the reality of what nuclear weapons do. They do not see thousands of human beings
being killed instantly. They do not
acknowledge the desecration of the earth, the destruction of the environment,
the radiation poisoning and cancer that will kill survivors. They do not acknowledge the possibility of a
nuclear winter in which humans, animals,
crops, and, quite possibly, the planet itself will die. At times I wonder if the bullies with the
power have any inkling that they themselves might be incinerated - or are they
so certain that their bunkers will allow them to live on as they always have.
It takes a lot of will and energy
and prayer to draw myself back from the edge of the abyss of fear and anger and
resentment engendered by the willful lack of consciousness and empathy and
compassion that seem to order the days of our supreme leaders. I want my grandchildren to sleep through
peaceful, nightmare free nights. I want
to hold on to the vision of the Biblical
prophets of a time when creation will be at peace with itself. The best I can do today is turn to beloved
thinkers and writers and prophets who continue to hold forth the vision when I
am temporarily unable to hold it
myself. Today, I turn to Howard
Zinn:
To be hopeful in bad times is not just
foolishly romantic. It is based on the
fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of
compassion, sacrifice, courage and kindness.
What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our
lives. If we see only the worst, it
destroys our capacity to do something.
If we remember those times and places - and there are so many- where
people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, at least
the possibility of sending this top of a world spinning in a different
direction. And if we do act, we don’t
have to wait for some grand utopian future.
The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we
think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is
itself a marvelous victory.

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