I know that I had said that I would talk about scarves this week, but I feel like taking a step back for a minute...and speaking from the heart. Hear me out, if you have a minute. I'll continue the style talk next week.
I’m not sure exactly where to go with this post. I have changed the direction of this so many times. But I feel the need, a pull, to speak about current events. Yes, this is a style blog, but style encompasses more than your outward appearance; it can speak volumes as to how you are emotionally. And right now... today... emotions run deep. I started off wanting to speak real talk, from my heart, about the madness surrounding us. It started earlier this week (we write our posts here a week ahead, so today is October 4) as I was sitting in the car line at my kids’ school. I noticed the flags were at half staff. And it started to make me think... How many times have we seen these flags at half staff over the past decade, or so, from tragedies, unfathomable tragedies? How many times will we see them at half staff in the years to come?
The thought of this brought tears to my eyes. I started thinking back to my childhood, and I don’t recall the flags being at half staff even half as many times as they are now. Back in my day, it was a big deal to see them flying that way. We’d all whisper and wonder who died...it would be a concern, a question that needed an answer. But now, now it’s almost as if it's become so commonplace that no one questions it. Do we still wonder who died...or is it now more about how many died?
I don’t want to get very political here. What I do want to do is just talk about what a moment brings. In that moment, as I sat there staring at the flag, listening to my kids acting crazy in the back of the car... in that exact moment, everything was silent. I could almost hear the flag as it whipped in the breeze. And I thought to myself, how many times has one of the school officials had to come out here and lower it? How sad is that job, to lower a flag in a display of a nation in mourning? The weight of knowing that millions of flags across the country are flying at the same height, half as high and equally heavy with sadness.
And then in that moment, I realized that there must also be someone that comes back out to raise it, after a given amount of time. Someone has to return the flag to full staff. As that flag rises, the question becomes how do we rise? How does the nation rise like the flag? If only there was a simple answer, a simple solution to end the madness. But there isn’t. Unlike the flag, we as a nation, are not attached to a pully mechanism that helps lift us. We must become the pully for each other. We must lift each other up, embrace the wind as it whips us, and figure out how to never allow us to be lowered again.