My Stomach and I

Stop! 

What in heaven's name — or under what other circumstances — makes me sound this dystopian? 
Yes, I am overwhelmed by the state of world politics. 
By politicians and other powerful figures who stand by watching people being slaughtered. 
Or who have built a business model out of it.

My stomach is turning more often than ever in the last seventy years. 
And it burns quietly away. 
My stomach has feelings.

This innate humanity of ours — made of empathy and respect for people and other animals — is being trampled underfoot. 
It is being bombed. 
It is being starved. 
It is being slaughtered.

How am I supposed to simply carry on and lead a normal life? 
How do I explain this chaos, this cold-bloodedness, to my stomach?

I keep trying. 
Every day anew, I try to bring this unfolding a little closer to the grumpy old stomach down there in the pit. 
But it doesn't care for that closeness. 
Because then it turns sour.

And once again I come back to that one undying genetic trait we Homo Sapiens folks (of all genders) carry within us. 
That one force of standing together, of sharing outrage at injustice. 
And of comfort. 
Because the world and its politics are no longer quite in their right mind.

Let me pause for a moment on the people who managed to make something bigger out of nothing, out of the impossible. 
And still do. 
People like you and me, who refuse to be fobbed off. 
Who refuse to surrender to fatalism. 

People who stand up and act. 
And once again, many of these people are women — women who care. 
Who roll up their sleeves and set things straight. 
And who steer my stomach walls into calmer waters.

Oh yes, I woke up this morning with that bitter aftertaste. 
Then my gaze wandered into the distance, and I see all these names and faces who don't give up. 
Who don't cower. 
Who don't stay silent. 

And all of these active people are no superhumans, no heroes in the usual sense. 
Yet they are ready to make the world a few inches better. 
And to keep going.

My stomach and I pay enormous respect to all of these people. 
And together we support their efforts as far and as strongly as we can. 
Yes, my stomach and I.

The list of these people grows longer every day. 
And they give me courage and, above all, hope that we can move something. 
For the better. 

Well, would you look at that: my second coffee this morning tastes delicious.
There we have it.