a split-in thought..motherly fear

Each time I get to this level of thinking: stop it, woman, we are going nowhere. A quiet voice from within insists, trying to be wise and tell me: girl, we are still a long way to go..patience is the only way out within this mess.

I keep asking myself if life has been this messy all the time, or something changing is really happening?

Could it be the social media and the almost drowning effects of too much information that is causing all this mess in my head? or could it be that social media itself on top of this mess contributing to the horrific change that is taking place.

What am I talking about?

It is not politics this time… after all, it is politics as well. It is all politics at the end of the day.

A 12-year-old boy sitting on the railway track somewhere in Cairo was about to let go of his young life as a result of school bullying.

A less than ten years old boy in Gaza, killed by Israeli snipers and his funeral leaves from school.

Another youngest arrested by the Israeli soldiers and photos of young faces in this adult war fill our newsfeed.

I started this minesweeping of my day after the morning showering discussion with my daughter on the way to school. Each time I feel the clash of generation invading our reviews. However, this time, I needed to be awake. A teenager reflecting on the ill life we live in. The Israeli invasion,s incursions, evictions inside and outside the wall that makes the center of her daily life. The wall of Jerusalem and the entrance to her school. One cannot just take away his children to a safe place of a beautiful, healthy life when your life moves in a turning point center of life.

I feel myself numb, not knowing how to respond. Last week the girl was defending the virtue of normalization, a dialogue she wants to create with the other, based on her daily reflections of living within that ancient wall. My daughter is a very insightful human being, it is scary I have to admit to myself. This can be an alerting sign of trouble.

It is the teenage hormones that make her speak out her mind with rightful notions. So last week she would interrupt an Israeli right-wing, or just an ordinary Israeli in the street brainwashing according to her reality a tourist, or a bunch of Israeli schoolboys on such tours. ” we should talk to them” she insists.

This week, she took a totally diverse angle of intervention, as a family was evicted from their house in the old city, and new incursions to the Aqsa are taking place.

I listen to my tone of wisdom, and I feel speechless. There is not much to say except repeating fearful words that a parent horrifically spell out to protect his child.

In a life of contradictions on all and every level, it is only some random fearful words that can make a difference. A difference in a situation that is so unpredictable, so damn unsafe, when you need to just pray that your child comes back home again from school that day, not harassed. Worse, not arrested or simply killed.

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