Conflict

Whilst most people who read this web journal are absorbed in the Super Bowl, and I hope it is a fun game to watch, over here we are beginning the new school year. It's the last year that I'll be directly involved in education, since my last child is beginning his last year of high school.

At the school he attends, they set summer holiday work. The VCE (the final year of school) goes by with such a whooosh, and assessment begins so early, that teachers feel compelled to set work to get the students ready from day 1 to begin to discuss very complex topics. This year, in English, the theme is 'encountering conflict' and that led him to read books such as Megan Stack's 'Every Man in the Village is a Liar' wherein the reporter describes what she saw in the Middle East, particularly through 'the war on terrorism' era.

I think it is quite a confronting topic and, in any case, my son likes to discuss novels and books with me verbally, to toss around ideas, before he goes off to write his persuasive essays, or whatever the task. So, we discussed conflict in its various forms, between and within people and how conflict is a bit like a pebble thrown in a stream. One suicide bomber tends to lead to the next and in no time hundreds or even thousands of people are infected with the repercussions of hateful conflict. Conflict has grown like a cancer to infect a whole nation(s).

As it happened, we had drinks with a gentleman yesterday who works mostly in Asia, India and the Middle East and he confirmed two of our ideas - that those countries tormented with civil war were the most persistently ravaged and that, in the main, these countries were about 50 years behind us. They would, eventually, live lives something vaguely like ours. Road safety, as one example, was virtually non-existent right now in their thinking, but it was just beginning to enter their consciousness.

My son and I needed to throw around ideas about conflict and how that impacted on our principles and morals; our values. When Fowler, an English reporter in Vietnam (in 'The Quiet American') comes across a river of dead bodies that reminded him of an Irish stew with too much meat (that's a simile you don't easily forget) he, like all the soldiers with him, looked and then immediately looked away. This was one of the many examples in the readings where people had been going about their lives  and were so randomly and instantly snuffed out. In the Vietnamese jungle every man there was reminded of their mortality; that this minute could, possibly, be their last and confronted by that knowledge, they turned away. I referred to it as the senses being overwhelmed. There is only so much a human mind can take in at any given moment, I think.

Since it is the first day of school this morning I was doing tasks that I always do on this day - tidying up the house and basking in the pleasure of time all alone to myself. I had my feet up on the desk and a coffee cup in my hand. I'd heard a short time before on the radio that I keep in the laundry of the death of Philip Seymour Hoffman and lamented the loss of such a great talent. He was clearly a vulnerable soul and I guess life got too much. It's terribly sad news.

I am not inclined to read the newspaper daily even though it is delivered to our door, but this morning being a relaxed one I read it and was horrified to read of senseless conflict and violence - a nineteen year old boy stabbed by a group of boys known to him as he walked down the street in the north of this city, who is now in hospital fighting for his life and not expected to fully recover.

I was beginning to wonder if reading the newspaper was the best thing when I heard a noise on the lap top beside me registering the arrival of some emails. There was an email from the Headmaster to all parents and I noted the first words. "This morning in assembly I broke the saddest of news to the boys." I felt goosebumps over my entire body and rushed to open it. A Year 11 boy, with his whole life ahead of him had taken his life last night.

Of course, I thought of his devastated family. It's not the first time this has happened and I've seen people's lives destroyed in this way; whole families. I also thought of my son sitting in that esteemed hall, filled with excitement of the year ahead listening to that announcement and having to face the fact that none of us are insulated from conflict and violence. Alongside his quirky, delightfully humorous but earnest and 'strong desire to succeed' personality he must wear the knowledge that some of his coherts are in extraordinary pain.

Over the summer I've noticed he has been receiving and sending long text messages and I asked if they were mostly from his girl. It was then that he explained to me that a boy he met at a drama group of old texted him for a kind ear when life got too much; when he didn't know what to do next. My son had been doing his best to advise him and keep him whole through this turbulent time of his life. He's the 'somebody' that cared and he had to respond, he told me.

I've come to the conclusion that we don't really have a choice but to acknowledge life as it presents itself and to accept that we are surrounded by conflict. It isn't going to go away. It is out there. It will touch all our lives in some way.

I think this 'fact' is what makes it so important to also embrace life - to celebrate it every chance we get. Power exchange as I know it allows time to let go of the thinking (troubled) brain and give the mind a rest from this onslaught of continuous news concerning conflict and violence. Ours minds must rest. Our hearts need to focus on goodness, peace and love because there is much of that in this world as well. It is everywhere.

However, someone close to me, a young man training to be a policeman, told me recently that the vast majority of call outs for police here relate to domestic violence.  That's frightening. So many people are in so much conflict that they need to call a third party to ensure safety. You don't necessarily need to leave your house to encounter conflict and violence.

Kindness. Empathy. Love. Acceptance. Are they teaching this in all schools just as they do maths and science? They should. I hope one day that meditation sessions will be part of every child's school day much like the first Buddhist School in this State that I read about recently. They easily incorporate a group meditation into every morning as their ritual.  I am not so naive as to suggest violent conflict will cease but meditative practices surely will not hurt.