Paris. Attacked. Bombed. As an ordinary citizen catching the news from my facebook newsfeed, grasping a bit of information here and there, while sitting in my commute, I am infuriated, the fashion capital of the world is rocked. I got off by the mall waiting for my hub, shoppers gradually spilling in, children towing mothers, bustling food court, I sat on one of the benches and check Facebook again. Friends and acquaintances pictures’ draped in France flag, pray for Paris. I don’t know how much they mean what they do. Its easy to push buttons in the phone.
More readings about politicians telling the president what to do. The republicans and democrats word war either against each other or with the presidents’ decision. France bombing the terrorist headquarters. It’s getting worse.
I went on reading Facebook comments, it makes me angry and mad. Then I go to read more comments of people fighting in the comments section. More people fighting. It’s getting worse.
Yet, for most of facebook post its, “pray for Paris”.
How much do we pray? I have a fifteen minute meditation before I go to bed, almost squeezing it between facebook, reading a book, watching TV, my beauty ritual, telephone call and a lot of things. Sometimes I ditch praying in place of these activities. Exactly what I did the night before I learned about Paris. Skipped praying as I was so sleepy after prioritizing a lot of mundane activities.
Would things have change if I didn’t miss praying? Would prayers change the world? Or Paris for that matter?
We don’t know and we’re not sure, worse things could have happened. With me. And you. Today I vowed myself for the nth time to not miss daily prayer. Paris is a reminder. Outside ourselves, our country, things gets worse. But praying is our refuge, security and calm amid the storm.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Ripped from the Headlines!.”