Daybreak Note #214 | Holding the horror of Ukraine + how to help | March 12, 2022
Good evening, dear,
It’s not been all that long since the last Daybreak Note, yet the world has changed.
Back in January, I wrote that I was taking a hiatus from Daybreak Notes and writing a new newsletter, Odyssey of the Body, which comes out now Sundays and Wednesdays. And that is humming along. I’ve written lately about two books I loved, a beautiful Blessing for Ukraine by Kate Bowler, and walking through troubled times.
But I started missing this space, with you. How are you? What are you feeling these days? How are you doing?
I’m struggling, as I imagine many of you are, with the horrific invasion of Ukraine, the sense of helplessness, this feeling of outrage at how one vengeful man can cause so much destruction and sorrow and death, and the despair of not seeing how this ends. There is no version of this where it ends well. 2 million people have fled their homes; hospitals and schools and apartments have been destroyed; thousands have died; families have been torn apart.
Historian Timothy Snyder has been writing about Ukraine and been sending out lists of places that could use our help. Among all the turmoil and horrific updates, he writes:
“One thing has been constant. Since I first sent out a list of charities, Ukrainian citizens have proven their willingness to sacrifice: on the battlefield, defending their country from an unjustifiable war, but also in civil society, as volunteers. When I speak to my friends and colleagues in Ukraine, this is what strikes me: everyone, despite the shelling and the bombs, is doing something. But they could use our help.
“Ukraine is not a wealthy country. GDP per capita in the United States is about $63,000. In Ukraine it is about $4000. And now add to that the destruction of roads, airports, homes, hospitals, schools, all in these horrible last few days. If you can give a little, you can make a difference. And some of you can give more than a little. Please do. As always, I will give a range of options, since people have different values.”
Here are his two most recent posts: How to help Ukrainians and Some new ways to help Ukrainians.
It is hard, in moments, to know how to carry on right now, to shovel the driveway and cut up melon for the little boy’s lunch and track work emails and laugh at the “Series of Unfortunate Events” on Netflix, a children’s book series that is very gloomy and amusing and eccentric.
The cognitive dissonance is heavy, typing this in quiet, warm home, with snowflakes swirling outside, and knowing that millions of families are fleeing their homes on foot or hunkered down in terror. And horrific events — not this, but others, in Syria, in Haiti, in America, all over the world — also existed months ago, and last year, and years ago. They are existing all the time in human history, just as moments of joy exist in the same minute in a different latitude and longitude. Births and deaths. Giggles and tears. Shouts of joy and screams of sorrow.
It is hard to reconcile this. There is no reconciling, really. It is part of our fate as thinking, feeling humans — to hold this dissonance. To feel horror and gratitude. To do what we can to tilt the scales away from destruction. To help however and whenever we can.
With love,
Brianne