The Rabbit Hole
The Terror Of Knowing What The World Is About
I woke this morning to the news that an influencer had livestreamed an episode of extreme self-harm.
If you happen to be a parent in these times, you have to be quick on your feet. You can begin to descend into sorrow over what the world has become, but only moments later, you must transform into a vigilant protector of your children. It is a part of the parenting job you never realized you were signing up for. You become a police officer at 8 am, leaping into duty when you’ve barely had half your coffee.
“There’s news of a video of someone livestreaming self-harm. I’m going to ask you not to watch it.” is the text that went out this morning, probably while they’re still dozing.
Whether my children watch it is not under my control. They are hundreds of miles away at a cottage. They shouldn’t even have to receive a text like this, one that will undoubtedly spark the very curiosity I’m trying to discourage.
Flashbacks to telling my kids not to do things as toddlers, and then, of course, they do them.
Sleepy as I am this morning, I allow myself to fall backward into a rabbit hole of trust.
I have to trust that the work I did in the early years of their lives — the years when I sacrificed so many of the things I am now gathering back up with sleepy eyes and a faithful heart: my music, my career, my autonomy — somehow helped create little humans who can make decisions for themselves.
I hope that I have guided humans who are not so driven by curiosity and FOMO that they will watch something capable of changing them forever.
Last night, I played my London debut with my metal band, Ovary Axe. We performed for a handful of people in a watering hole called Supply & Demand, which serves pizza that is both delicious and deeply regretful upon eating.
One of the songs we played is called “Enjoying the Modern World.” In it, I lump together all the things I am sarcastically enjoying about modern life: pedophiles in power, the public listening to wealthy white men instead of survivors, gender inequality, injecting your face, celebrity pressures and pornography. Yup, it’s a real heartwarmer.
But what I am really trying to get at with “Enjoying the Modern World” is that one day, I hope to be genuinely enjoying it.
Being proud that I did the best raising with my kids under the circumstances. Admiring the beauty of the world, like when I stumbled upon a little picnic table hidden in a park yesterday. Running into an old high school friend last night who told me he was clean from drugs. Choosing not to watch something horrific, myself either.
Is it all about the lens we choose to look through?
Do we have to click the button down, the way we used to on a View-Master? When we are done with the scene in front of us, can we simply click to the next one?
In a world that seems determined to keep shocking us, I’m beginning to think it may be all we can do.
