That night, I gave a talk to a group of businesswomen. The topic was probably supposed to be how they could help victims of domestic violence.
I don’t think I was able to do that but I was apparently able to use our collective shock and disbelief as the basis for a pretty competent talk about what happens to people when they experience random violence. It changes them. It changed me.
I spent part of the next day with my grandfather. The national tragedy broke his heart. He said he couldn’t imagine anything worse. He gave up, let go, and left us a few days later.What happens to people when they experience random violence... Click To Tweet
When I went home it was to a man who was angry at the rest of us for ‘making such a big deal out of this thing.’ I shouldn’t have been surprised: he was always angry about something.
Violence changes people. It changed me.
I no longer work in the field of child abuse and domestic violence: I had shut down and become a less effective human being. I am committed to doing things that work.
I wrote a book for parents — positive, uplifting, supportive.
My work now has to do with different ways to help people prepare for and respond to life’s ‘ups and downs.’ To be more resilient. More solution-focused. To think differently. To be themselves and to turn up the volume.
I got single in a hurry. I stayed that way for a long time. I created a single life that I loved. Quiet. Creative. Violence-free.
I try to be more aware and more congruent — to do things that bring joy and add value. I do not view that as selfish but as necessary if I am going to improve anything for anyone else.
And when I wonder if I’m headed down the right road I think about how often the Dalai Lama laughs.