‘Should we turn off the news, look after our own and to hell with the rest?’

2026-03-07 - 00:57

Comment: We lost a man five months ago. A husband, father, brother, uncle, son, son-in-law, friend. Suddenly. Here. Gone. Just an ordinary bloke, a description inadequate for his particular extra-ordinariness, and in the way all life is extra-ordinary – from the astronomical lottery of existence on this tiny, blue dot in the vast foreverness to the lottery of biological birth. Maybe you view such leaps from the personal to the global as hackneyed, trite. Yeah, yeah we’re all stardust. I don’t. I love to think of those endless possibilities for life and connections, spiralling out through space, time and possibly dimensions, disappearing at the end of my limited knowledge but going on anyway unconstrained by human understanding. How wonderful to have more to learn, to discover, for infinity. And how truly amazing to have a brain to wonder with. To have, quite possibly, the most extraordinary intelligence unit in the universe atop our body, between our ears. Wow! Looking for life ‘out there’? Yet, so much we don’t know about ourselves let alone the other intelligent life we dwell with. So, we lost a man five months ago. And we grieve. So, so much. But every day people as precious are dying in ways almost uncountable. In this moment my focus is on how lightly a death and, worse, multiple deaths can be responded to. They may be mentioned but quickly moved on from. Discussed and dismissed. Swept by and away. Just another day at the office. Ukraine where the courageous Ukrainians are fighting Europe’s war if not the world’s. And dying. Gaza. Genocide. An entire people trapped in their homes, schools and hospitals and bombed, mown down and starved. Dying. Iran. Kids on the streets protesting simply for a better life. Shot, beaten, carted off for torture before dying. And now a whole country under siege with ripples going gobal. Venezuela. A “quick, clean” violent invasion to kidnap another country’s head of state which left a hundred or more dead. For oil! Oil that suits the American oil refineries ... whether the oil companies want it or not, apparently. And oil, that needs to be left in the ground if humanity is to thrive on the planet. Australia. A mass shooting of our Anzac siblings too close to home to mention without expressing sorrow. RIP our fellow family. Moe mai rā e whānau mā. America. Another day, another mass shooting. Maybe another invasion. Or another assassination by a trigger happy enforcement officer. And, horrifically, a politician quickly othering the dead who, according to his warped reasoning, deserved to die. Someone precious – a mother, a father, daughter, son, wife, husband – did not deserve to have their unique life respected nor their rights as a fellow citizen? Judge, jury and execution within seconds? God help Americans. Should such an entity exist it seems their only chance. For all of us, and quite possibly without the benefit of divine intervention, what can we do? Do we turn off the stream of news? I know many are. Do we look after our own and – literally – to hell with the rest? Well, no. For one thing they’ll eventually come for us. We’re all in this together. Our solutions, as they always have been, will be found together. Our superpower is in our socialbleness, our community, our society. I’ve learned from crises that doing what we know best, leaning into our training, our muscle memory, when our brains are overwhelmed with situmuli, is the best response. Often it’s the only one we can muster. The only useful response I could find to the tragic loss of our extraordinary man was to do my job, my job as a parent. To be there. To be alert for and respond to need. To accompany those in the most severe pain and grief, to hold, to listen, to do what was asked or needed, to love. And keep doing that. No deadline, no cut off. Parenthood is an honour and a privilege and comes with innate motivations. But so do all the other hoods – childhood, adulthood, neighbourhood, statehood. We are all part of some ‘hood. Through our loss, I have also been privileged to witness and be awed by the commitment of family members, friends, neighbours, workmates, even complete strangers who have become aware of events, to respond with thoughtfulness, practicalities, kindness and more. To love. The response has been across generations, genders and ethnicities. There has been no other or othering. Just an us. What can we do about challenges and tragedies at home and across the world? Care. Find a need. Respond. Focus on one or two things close to your heart. Make a contribution no matter how small. Size does not matter. Responding does. Join with others. Company brings the fun. Keep on. We can respond to need as one. As us. There is only us.