Status Updates From Triage

But sometimes the house burns down. Perhaps, only then, do we begin reacting with refusal, rejection, renunciation, for finally it’s understood we are all the unburied dead. No matter our posture, we are all among the rubble.

We are being asked to hold, visually and emotionally, realities we do not yet have a viable system of language or policy for, I said slowly. Every move feels like one of triage. We are meant to absorb and accept the pained and callous position of witness and observer until we reach levels of desperation that are crippling.