The Reality

The reality is, I didn’t really give two shits about Ferguson exploding until my plans got all kinds of messed up and I got stuck in traffic from a riot happening down the street of where I needed to be.  I watched a little on the news for a few nights, but whatever.  

Call me not idiotic or careless, I know I'm not the only one.

This is St. Louis by all means.  Has nobody seen that we constantly rank on the top 10 most dangerous cities TWICE because St. Louis is in Missouri and Illinois so we are all kinds of special getting two markings on the list??  

It was just about the most annoying situation of 2014 to be frank.  Dressed in a skirt that cost more than $100, cold coffee and a car that doesn’t have a darn thing wrong with it because let's be honest about how I really get clogged up in the head about what's totally not important and about my mornings getting messed up and becoming a serious treat of over-dramatic, I was minding my own world.  A meeting with a client and needed to be there, but in that moment was stopped -  I think I actually screamed “move out of my way” at one point. 

If you’ve ever lived more than about .5 seconds you know twitter has got your back when you need answers to all the important things happenings- the news is useless, and when you are annoyed out of sanity that you're running late twitter can help calm things. I promise you. 

Racist murder.  The photos you’ll scroll through on #Ferguson will take you right to Iraq.  I think 25 minutes passed by as I read all the strangers tweets. I can't really do it justice to try and tell you about what’s really going on in this city that’s bursting at the seams.  It's too much. It's too awful. 

So there I sat, in a jam of traffic, car engine turned off, because is was a real long wait I’m talking, and a real long lull of selfishness. Car after car backing up, being turned around. The kind of jam that was taking so long I pulled out my macbook and started working because RUINED MORNING. Late to meetings. 

I just see it time and time again, I’ve become so numb to it.  Numb to the pain of the world. Compassionless. Careless really. 

Maybe the problem with all the chaos in this world is that my own heart didn’t give two shits about what seems to be racist murder until I couldn’t get to my meeting on time because of a riot and today, the Hoda & Kathie Lee show being interrupted by the president addressing this issue of breaking news and I am clueless on how the last ambush lady's makeover turned out at the end of today's episode...

This really isn’t an issue about white or black, Christian or jew, child or adult, employed or criminal. Or maybe it is. But really, for the most of us, it's an issue of ourselves. 

The issue is giving two shits about one another. My little heart beating now inside me with a $4 dollar latte flowing through is what needs to be fixed. Not the riots, not the protest, not the obnoxious media or whatever.  My own heart is the real tragedy.

And to you, Momma Brown. I see you all up on my TV screen in your white blazer and bleach blonde hair over and over. I see you next to your man with tears streaming down your face being brave and telling your story - but mute have been my ears. I think I heard you talking 10 times before this morning when I stopped and HEARD you. Sister, dear one, I have heard you -  and Sobbing my own tears over you, your baby, your broken heart, your life has been inconvenienced more than missing a meeting and stuck in a traffic jam from a riot - your life got flipped upside down.  I hear you asking for peace.  I hear you, I hear your every word begging this world to stop and realize a little more than just themselves.  

I hope your face stays engrained to my mind forever more.  You deserve two shits of my heart, and all the rest of it for that matter. You deserve grace. You deserve more. You have been brave. You have surpassed all the rest of us women sitting in our $100 skirt sipping lukewarm coffee annoyed at life. You've showed what really matters - one another.