Social media. The interwebs have been wild recently, with global events and local sparking flurries of response, tragedies personal and political flying every which way. The news winds carried as much fiction as fact, with narratives true and false woven so tightly not even fact-checking sites that excel in unraveling legends could pick them apart. They couldn’t even keep up for a while.
Everyone loves a good story, but real life doesn’t happen with once upon a time or happily ever after. Every event has a backstory, every hero and villain an origin tale, but nothing in the world is as tidy or as harmonious as the heart wants it to be. So we latch onto stories, any stories, that vindicate or validate or merely resonate with the narratives we know.
We want stories. Tragedies. We need stories with happy endings.
What does this have to do with my title? Well. Before all this blew up I was pondering why some of my posts explode in popularity and some wither in obscurity. To me they’re all equally fascinating topics. But pie? Pie makes people happy, elicits discussion, and promotes sharing. Cat pictures, even more so. Big concepts may spark conversation, but pie and pets start a party. Now I’m thinking there’s more to it than simply universal appeal of cute animals and food. Or, rather, that those things are more important than I’ve understood.
There’s a reason people bring food to the grieving. There is value in the familiar and the earth-rooted, and comfort in reminders of life. Compassion fatigue is a real and dangerous problem because it leads to turning away, rejecting, forgetting the things that cause pain. So maybe it’s okay to take a breather, to sit with the puppies and kittens and have a cookie. Maybe it’s okay that people only pay attention to me when I bring them things that give them shelter in the storm of their days.
Healing hearts so they don’t break. I’m okay if that’s all I do.
Time: 9:45 AM
Tea: All-India blend. My usual second cup.
Steeped: 7 minutes…ish.