It begins with brushing my teeth in the morning. I trust that everybody who works on my water system has made sure that it is potable. My morning oatmeal is not poisoned- that is another assumption I make without even paying attention to the fact that I make it. Later, my car is part of a traffic system that is properly coordinated. I enter a building which has a roof that will not collapse just because a few workers were tired and sped up the process by skipping an important procedure and tossing three boxes of nails into the trash. Nobody in my ordinary day cheated in a task performed. Not a single person, though maybe a few had bad days, risked my safety by using a short cut. Thank you world. Thank you people. Thank you for not messing with my trust.
Recently I read a book about a woman who lived in a war torn country. Nothing could be taken for granted in her life. Streets were blown away by bombs so she had to take a different way to the grocery store. When she arrived she could not depend on full shelves and a selection of goods. At home there often was no electricity. The water might be shut off. Or it might contain contaminants. She could not trust that anything she encountered today would be the same tomorrow.
How does the human mind deal with this? Do we go crazy? Can we adjust? Do those who are exposed become hardened? Do they become desensitized? Rebellious? Sick?
How do I prioritize my responses? What loss do I mourn and which senseless act do I sweep under the rug? Whom do I hate? And whom do I pull more closely into my corner?
Behind everything stands a human being. At least one. Probably a group of them."They" don't take into consideration my well-being when they act. Or do they? Which ones do?
And, if I get on an airplane tomorrow morning, expecting to be at my destination some eight hours later, what are my chances that something in the long list of events surrounding my flight will go wrong? Let's say that the copilot, who smiled at me when I walked past him on my way to my seat, lets say he suddenly, about two hours into the flight, has an uneasy feeling. He tries to dismiss it; he has had this experience before and knows how to deal with it. Only this time it doesn't go away. He happens to be one of "these people," the ones who are, right now, being discussed on TV shows everywhere. He has periods of depression. Everything looks bleak. Well, you get my point .... What will his next step be?
All of this was brought to my attention while I was knitting this morning, with one word - TRUST. I can only imagine how difficult life would be if I didn't trust that the majority of issues are in good hands.. And yet, the only person I have control over is I. Which puts all ethical responsibility squarely on my shoulders.
".....and," she said, " a silent wind swept over me, brushing my cheeks ever so slightly, reminding me to be good. As if it all had started with me and would, forever, be up to me to do the right thing."
With this little paragraph it felt as if I had resolved all problems. My thoughts went back to the Art Bears. Today is the last day for the project and I think that I need to write about the group that I finished.
In my last post I discussed Bears Jackson #350, Marcia #351, Linnea #352, and Cinnamon #357.
Bear #353, his name is Anselm, came to be Anselm Kiefer's muse for a day at the museum. (Remember, this is my little game to get as many Bears knitted as possible) Anselm tries to interpret the landscape that is his favorite, a brownish earth with pink and blue flowers.
Bears 354 and 358 adore Paul Gauguin. They always act in unison, like twin sisters. They want to show us the boldness that is Paul's landscape. They are Pauline and Paulette.
Bear 355 is named after Franz Marc. Her colors are probably best described by what he once said, "Today we are searching for things in nature that are hidden behind the veil of appearance. We look for and paint this inner, spiritual side of nature."
Bear 356 is MiniMe. She wants to be a reminder of my much younger self, when I played at being a painter and happily danced away the nights.
Bears 359, 360, and 361 are Ophelia, Penelope, and Quiturah. They say they are their own art piece, daring in color and spirit.
Bear 362 is the Little Prince from Antoine de Saint Exupéry's book, the first book I read in three languages, French, German, and English, while I was still in school.
And finally, the last Bear in this group, Bear 363, Adanna, is dedicated to color. She embodies the happy spirit that seems to be in all children, and certainly will be in the child who will become her friend at the end of her long journey to Africa.
