It’s getting harder to see all the events on this planet that make life overwhelming at best and genuinely depressing at worst. We’ve been re-watching Reacher. Lee Child’s stories effectively depict (in their dramatic and violent way) the human condition and the terrible things people who abandon their humanity can do to others.
They give us an exciting, larger-than-life hero who courageously seeks justice, often inspiring those he meets along the way to stand up to oppressors. Yet, they remind us that it’s okay not to fix every problem, but to do what we can for the ones close to home.
My sister and I both got diagnosed with cancer this year. We started chemo a day apart, and we lost our hair at the same rate. We experience bad days and good days in different ways, and we share our journeys weekly. I mention this because, while we share a lot, we are two very different people, and so are our choices about dealing with the world as we fight our personal battle.
It’s interesting how, when you’re caught up in survival, you begin to contemplate the meaning of life and your place in it, even as your attention narrows to your own physical struggle. I guess it’s natural for some to focus on what they can control and let the things beyond their control blur into the background.
For me, I can disappear into my writing, rewrite the world in speculative fiction. I can listen to my Cake radio station on Pandora (my adored hometown band) while I exercise, or watch the rare good entertainment like Reacher with my hubby while I knit. I’m very grateful for that.
Others do the opposite. Their personal struggle becomes less significant as they take a stand against the unsolvable and march with other brave people.
Despite my efforts at mindfulness and inner peace, events like the terrible mass shooting at a casino a couple of days ago bring chaos crashing back, and I grieve for the world, feeling helpless alongside my neighbors.
That’s when I look up. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. Northern Nevada skies are always inspiring and soothing to the soul, reminding me how tiny and insignificant events on this planet are in the grand scheme of things. Gazing up, away from the chaos on the ground, lets me just be.
No worries as the sinking sun paints the sky until the stars come out. The answers are up there, and someday I’ll understand.
By D. L. Lewellyn 
Comments welcome!