The year was 1972.
The image seared into my conscience.
A young Vietnamese girl, running from a bombed area, her skin scorched from the napalm attack.
I remember being at home, sitting down to dinner, the television playing in the background, when that story and photo came on the screen.
I cried.
I did not know the girl. In truth, I would never meet her.
I cried.
She was one of four billion people on the planet at that time, an insignificant speck on the map of history, no relationship to me at all.
I cried.
Those who know me know I cry often. I cry when a meaningful song comes on the radio. I cry when I see a video of a homecoming, some soldier gone for three years, his family rushing to hug him. I cry when a baby goat dies, I cry when I read a poignant story, I cry at, I cry at, I cry at.
It bothered my dad, his son so easily crying, for to my dad, men do not cry, do not show emotions, do not show weakness. “Never let the bastards see you crying, Bill, or they will walk all over you.” But, despite his words of advice, I cried.
Call it empathy. Call it compassion. Call it tenderness. No matter the descriptive word, I hope I never lose it, for the tears shed are a reminder of my humanity, and that is something I never want to surrender.
Today’s world is not one I recognize, and it pains me to say that. People seem to have built impenetrable walls around their emotions. People seem to look the other way when they see pain and misery. People seem immune to the suffering of others.
The charred body of a Palestinian child? A Kansas homeowner, weeping over the pile of rubble once their home, a victim of a tornado? Wildfire victims in California? Flood victims in North Carolina? Shooting victims in Ohio? The homeless in San Francisco? The hungry in Kenya? Images online, on the television, in the newspapers, flash before the eyes of the reader/viewer with no more gravitas than stories about new construction or new fast transit innovations.
We drive by the destitute daily, but do we really see them? We hear the cries of the hungry, but do we really hear them? We witness those with mental and emotional needs, but do we really recognize the suffering?
If a tree falls in the forest, but there is no one there, does it make a sound? And the politicians elected to represent us, elected to form a more perfect union, are really commodities to be purchased on the open market, no sound heard at all as trees fall in record numbers.
To feel the weight in hearts unknown,
To share the pain as if my own.
A hand, a word, a listening ear,
To stand beside, to hold you near.
I am not a world leader. I am not the spearhead of some massive, global movement. I am a simple man in Olympia, Washington, a man who refuses to settle for what is, who believes that mankind has a higher calling, and it is damned well time we answer that calling, before it is too late.
I hope I never lose my tenderness, my empathy, my ability to feel the suffering of others and shed a tear for them. I fear who I would be without those traits.
Bill
Feel like reading? You can find my blog on www.aswewonder.com, and my books can be found on Amazon under William Holland. Thank you!
That is very nice of you to say. Thank you!
Your writing has a way of making even the most complex topics accessible and engaging. I’m constantly impressed by your ability to distill complicated concepts into easy-to-understand language.
True words, Andrea. Never lose your compassion!
It saddens me that people these days will rush to film something on their phone rather than help or feel compassion. I cry easily and I’m okay with that!
Thank you, Ann, for the book recommendation. I will look for it. I think there are millions of us who feel, at times, powerless, but also feel the call to act in some way. Frustrating at best; absolutely terrifying at worst.
Blessings to you always, my friend
bill
The older I get, the more I seem to cry! Because I’m older or because there’s more to cry about? Probably both.
I can’t bear watching the news now as I know it’s going to be awful. And, as you say, it’s delivered like an everyday occurrence.
Cold, matter-of-fact, straight-faced.
But my heart aches and I don’t know what to do about it. Not empowered to do a thing!
In my head, I put my grandchildren in that scenario and I’m scared. What is this world turning into?
We must have compassion, tenderness, and do what we can to make a difference when we can.
Powerful piece, Bill.
I’ve just finished a book called Nature’s Ghosts, about how the world was through the eons and how we can try to retrieve what’s lost. It empowered me and gave me hope but we have to act, fast and with compassion.
Sue, thank you! I, too, cry easily, it seems ore often these days. I do agree with you. I suspect people are going to need to experience great discomfort in order to find their humanness and rediscover their empathy. Only then can they qualify for a healthy community where all for one and one for all actually is believed by its members.
Love coming your way, dear friend
bill
Beautifully said Bill, I too remember seeing the image of that girl in that same year. I would have been 18.. That whole war shocked me, with the fire bombs that fell. The horrors they showed back then even on the 6 o’clock news in England. Then they made a record that went to the top of the charts.. ‘Nineteen’ being the average age of young soldiers who were dying in that senseless war.. A war that we will still in years to come find out more about its origins and why it was made to happen.. And how cheap lives are in War.
I cry easily and more so these days .. Compassion is bred out of people Bill.. As TV and films normalise Killing, violence, and the hating, and divisions.. Compassion and empathy has to be felt..
And people prefer not to Feel…. They switch off tune out, into their video games of pressing triggers, to bludgeon. obliterate and win.
Brain washing goes deeper than we realise, and its been a systematic thing with the black box that sits in most peoples living rooms.
This is why Bill, people have to Feel…. they are now feeling the ramifications of change. they are feeling discomfort, and unsettlement. And more of it is yet to be felt..
Sad as it is to say.. Sometimes people have to experience for themselves .. Only then will communities rally together, helping each other.
I love your words and your poem Bill.. You have a tender heart warming heart. And I am thankful for your tears…
Sending you much love dear Bill.. 💖🙏