I am of Parkland. I knew the dirt very personally by falling off my horse in my early years of training.
My pony and I ranged bareback at the gallop through the soft grasses. Playful otters, cattle, black snakes and mosquitoes had no fear of either of us. The marsh hares and the owls greeted us as we rode out early mornings. No fear of us at all. None of the animals feared this human.
I am watching news of Parkland. The grief I have has not surfaced yet. My pony is buried after a long and loved life. My grief for her was reasonable. She died in my arms at nearly 28 years old. It was a good death. She died on soil. Parkland soil in her hooves.
Parkland taught me the beauty of native Floridian life. My pastels, watercolors, oil paints, acrylics recorded the turtles passing from one side of the canal to the other; feathers from hawks that floated from the sky; stormy afternoons inside the barn where bufos hid; and so many more over the 9 years of barning there.
I was in receipt of this richness of being.
Paralysis hit with terror in one of the softest soils in the land. Poison of the pristine ravaged our lives. One gunman, one son of someone, decided to kill.
What he killed was other children.
My grief has not surfaced. I admire the children of Parkland who bring their soil across our nation and tell us to not kill again. I admire their courage and stamina. I know I have what to share about it but can’t put words to it yet. My spirit feels injured. Someone, this son of someone, hurt me. This son of someone bled precious lives across Parkland soil. Not my permission! Not my desire! Not my wish!
I wish I had a solution to the madness in our land where school children are put to the slaughter. I wish I understood what that madness stemmed from. I wish I could easily provide solutions. But I can’t. I think it’s the failure of the human being itself. I have never met an unhuman animal who kills without reasonable provocation: territory, food, self protection.
My hope is this: that the Parkland student population move our nation to accomplishing safer gun laws; that mental health improvement will become more standard in our schools; that our spiritual sense becomes more developed to include mindfulness of other beings.
Our dead are our children. My grief will not pass easily.