Do you trust the person next to you?

When is it safe to leave the house? Never…..

As I'm sure everyone remembers, I remember where I was when I learnt about 9/11. I was in the last few months of year 12, and had slept through the late night footage. Mum woke us up with the news of what had happened: "America has been attacked". I remember clearly saying goodbye to her that morning, having an extra long cuddle, lacking confidence in the reality that I would see her again that afternoon. At that stage, and at my age of innocence, I wasn't sure if this was the beginning of the end, if several countries would be attacked, whether we would all survive the day. It was extremely unsettling. Throughout my adult life, since then, there have been many terrorist attacks, both affecting Australia and those we have watched from afar...all of which have solidified my understanding of the world and the cruel place it can be. And then the attacks happened today, in Nice, France.

For some reason, it felt closer to home than ever before. Perhaps because my mum was in France two months ago, or because Greg and I are currently fanatically watching Le Tour de France late at night, following the riders through beautiful France, dreaming of how one day we will go there. Or maybe it is simply easy to imagine us all celebrating Australia Day with fireworks and having a similar event happen here. For whatever the reason - it mattered to me more than other terrorist attacks have. And as I discovered the news at my desk at work it hit me like a wave with each level of understanding smashing me further and further down. Tears welled up, sending me deeper and deeper with each revelation.

Thousands of people had gathered together to celebrate a special day.

For 2kms (that’s two THOUSAND metres!!!!!) a truck ploughed through the crowd at 60-70k/hr.

When he wasn't running people over like bowling pins, the driver was shooting others with a gun.

His truck was full of armed weapons - how much more damage had he planned on doing before he was stopped?

How much damage has been done by just one person?

I spent time thinking about how many people had been injured over that length of 2kms and how impossible it would seem for the ambulances to reach those in need. I thought about the bodies lying on the road and the injured, potentially lying next to their deceased loved ones. Or a deceased random, wondering if help would arrive in time to save them. I thought about the poor doctors, nurses, and police offices who must have felt such a sense of overwhelming chaos, not knowing where to begin, knowing someone will miss out, and knowing someone had to be the priority. I thought about the couples, the parents, the children, the friends.

And then, I turned my mind to the survivors. Have you ever wondered how you survive such an event? How you walk away and lead a successful life afterwards? How you continue when you have lost your person, your lover, your child, your parents? How you keep putting one foot in front of the other when you see it happen before your very own eyes? Your wife. Your boyfriend. Your child. Your mum. Your husband. Your dad. How do you actually survive that? Not physically. Physically, you can do anything you put your mind to. But emotionally, intellectually, mentally? How do you properly survive such trauma, such horror, such violence? You don’t just walk away.

And finally, I turned my mind to my own life. My simple, happy, content little life. I take my family to events. I watch the fireworks. I attend sporting matches. I go to the snow. I go to the beach. I go to concerts. I work in a large office building. I drive past the airport daily. And I do all of these things without fear or trepidation. At least I did before today.

Innocence is a beautiful gift we are provided at birth, which slowly slides away as the years charge on, sometimes replaced with wisdom and sometimes replaced with cynicism. With each passing year, as I experience life, joy and devastation, my own innocence is stripped away, leaving behind it a sandpaper of knowledge, irritating my perspective and scrubbing away my security. I used to have such beautiful optimism, endless sunshine and lollipops. But along with life came lessons in heartbreak, danger and fear.

I am left wondering if it is wise or just cynical to avoid public gatherings. It is wise to no longer attend Christmas carols or Sky Fire or big events to ensure we are never present at a potential mass terror attack? Or is that 'letting them win'? And do I actually care about whether 'they' win or not, or do I simply and singularly only care about keeping myself, my children, and my village safe? Everyone seems so quick to jump into defiance mode when events like this happen, immediately hash-tagging #bestrong and #riseup. Me? I'm not feeling as confident in my ability to withstand the anxiety and fear that invades closer with each new attack, as it begins to mirror my way of life. I will not accept that Australia is immune to this degree of attack. In fact, I imagine it will only be a matter of time before we see something on this scale here on our own land.

But does that mean that I will stop living my life the way I want to, and take deliberate risks by attending the events I love with my family? Because the flip side to that stance on safety is a lack of living. Am I happy to teach my children to avoid being involved? To stay away from fun experiences out of fear? Oh believe me, I am absolutely terrified today, feeling like it is literally a risk to walk out of the front door. But I won't feel like this forever, because we forget. We all move on with the everyday and eventually the danger will recede again, back to where it feels more comfortable and bearable. Until next time.

I don’t know the answers. I am not sure what I should do, if it’s silly and paranoid to avoid mass gatherings, or whether it’s smart and informed. I can’t be sure how to respond adequately or appropriately, when actually I just want to hide in my cupboard. I have no idea how to predict or control what could happen in the future. I have no control. Do any of us?

I suppose the answer is yes. It feels like the person who has the control is the one who doesn’t abide by laws, ethics, humanity, or mutual respect. The person who makes the decision to not only die that day, but go to death exhibiting so much hate and disregard for their fellow person, fellow human, that they can perform such abhorrent acts. I care not whether it is religion, mental illness or malice as a motivation. At the end of the day that person is just one person, who has the power to ruin the lives of many. Not just those killed, but witnesses, families, friends, countries, political allies, and spectators across the world. Today, at the time I write, 88 people have died at the hands of one man, who is now also deceased. One life, for 88 lives. Just one person’s poor decision has created endless damage.

Every day, as we leave our own safe environment, to do the groceries, see a show, watch the football, visit a friend, we place trust in our community, making the assumption that we are all good people, intending to communally protect each other and make productive and appropriate choices for society’s holistic benefit. We trust each other to follow the rules of our society and we trust that we all share a general good will amongst us. We trust that we are safe to stand next to each other in the line for the toilets. We trust that when we gather together to celebrate a special day, that we all are there to be involved, and not because it is an effective way murder a large group of people. We place a lot of trust in others, everyday.

Inevitably, on days when my understanding of the human race is again shattered and nothing can be taken for granted, I open my heart and do the only thing I know how to do that makes any difference to my piece of mind.

I pray.

I pray for strength to face the scary world head on. I pray for my family, for their protection, their lives, their sweet innocence. I pray for my village, that community and love will always be the centre of our shared experiences. I pray for our nation, that we continue to develop methods of detecting possible attacks and furthering our influence internationally to battle against this kind of violence. And of course, I pray for France, and for all affected by such attacks, for their strength, their survival, their healing, eventual acceptance, and ultimately their wellbeing. I pray for our fractured world, and I beg for the future, a better future, for our children and grandchildren.

Because, despite it all, when my brain can't comprehend it, my heart can’t handle the pain, and my soul feels destroyed, my spirit will soar with hope for a better day.

Ciao for now,
Lauren Granger (LG - Life's Good)
xoxo