Over the past many years, since it's beginning, I have read what is here on Worldpulse.
And, I am in awe and inspired by all the different voices. Different voices arising out of experiences formed by what you each see through your own eyes.
We can see through no other eyes but our own.
My eyes, my voice is from what many call the "west".
It's Saturday morning here in Toronto, Canada.
I wake to quiet. To gray skies, that threaten snow, not bombs.
I walk a few steps from the bedroom to my small kitchen and let the water run from the tap, filling my electric powered kettle. I reach into my cupboard and decide between coffee or tea. Then I settle into the corner of my sofa, open my laptop to Reuters first for news of what is happening in other parts of my world.
This morning, the first story is of Syria - again. I read about more people dying, tortured and killed -- men, women and children.
As I read, a truck rattles by outside my window, I hear laughter in the hallway on the other side of my apartment door, I hear music and shouts coming from the street -- likely a protest march to one of the consulates a few streets from me. All good. All peaceful. The sounds of people in my city. I turn back to my computer screen.
I search the Reuters story for news of the people of Syria. But as so much of the news we get, this article has been sanitized. The pain, the people are written about in a way that is meant to not bring the conflict too close.
As I read down through the many lines, I am able to pick out these few details about the people and their pain -- there was a couple found dead in their home, and a protest singer was killed and a young man and his sister also in their home. I read how rocket fire killed a child, and five bodies were found bearing signs of torture, including two children. These are the details we're fed. Very few details, and no names of anyone -- except for the singer. "Kafr Ruma was killed when his house was raided." That's all it says. I will search for other news of Kafr later, to find out more about his life.
As I read the few details before me, I ache. I always ache. I try to understand, and I wonder how much I don't know. What is happening really? And, what can I do from here in the 'west'.
So, I come here to this place of voices - Worldpulse. I search for stories of Syria, and other places in our world. I read to understand, and I read to help me find the truth. I search for ways to help me connect and unite with the people of my world.
I care. I want to use the eyes that I was given, I want to use the voice that I was given -- one voice -- to help make our world a peaceful place for all. A place where we can all get up, as I did this morning, as I do most mornings - and look at the sky to see whether there are clouds -- not whether there are bombs.
one voice -- joining with others. here. and, there.