I think we have to admit that’s certainly the case right now.
I don’t know if society has changed, or perhaps it’s a consequence of 24-hour global news coverage, but everything seems to be deemed a crisis these days.
And in truth I feel it more myself. Since becoming a parent (albeit some time ago now) I’ve noticed I’m more of a worrier. Before, where I’d laugh at scaremongers and their agendas, I find myself worrying what, in the absence of extended families, would happen to my son should swine ‘flu, or bird ‘flu, or meteorites, or global warming, or middle eastern nuclear powers, or collapsing civilisation through dying economies really come to pass. Maybe that’s just what all parents do—worry so their children don’t have to.
I’ve always told myself: “Don’t concern yourself about things over which you have no control”, and it’s worked well in the past. But these days it seems hard to live by that rule. These days the ante seems raised.
Sorry for the tone of this post, but I think I’ve been in an odd mood for some weeks now. I need to do more writing. In writing I can explore and ratify such feelings, and the effect is so often cathartic.
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