CAN WE PAUSE?
Over the weekend, I witnessed a young man have a dreadful accident in a motocross race. The day was sunny and lighthearted, full of families enjoying each other. Then just moments later, tragedy struck for a talented 18-year-old.
My heart was broken for him and his family as the Mercy Flight helicopter hovered above. And when it was over, my sorrow grew bigger as I witnessed how quickly the next race went on, without a collective pause to quietly send love, support and prayers for a young man who was in peril.
I learned that evening that he lost his life.
Why do we do this in our culture? Why do we move on to what’s next, regardless of acknowledging what’s happening right in front of us and doing all that we can to offer comfort to others, even if we can only give it energetically?
Standing next to my daughter and other spectators, I felt the collective grief that strikes out of nowhere and how we avoid seeing it fully, because it’s difficult and we don’t know what to do with our feelings or what to say.
We’re not robots. What does that do to the riders who go next after witnessing that? How are they impacted? These are our children, parents, brothers and sisters out there. In a world of toughen up and move on, we miss our humanness. With empathy, we can understand that the race doesn’t need to go on, when so much uncertainty and grief are present.
I’m reminded of the parents who deeply love their children and who’ve experienced similar loss. If we could stop long enough to put ourselves in their shoes, some compassion may rise to the surface.
As I watch our culture continue to spin in a frenzied pace, with at times, placing our priorities on things, not people, I wonder when the shift will take place? Does the show really need to go on, or are we just following what’s always been? If we look across some dangerous sports, there is an opportunity to modify behaviors and come together in a different way. To honor life. We have the power to change what doesn’t work, it just requires willingness.
My deepest sympathy goes out to the young man and his family that I never met but touched me so much.
He mattered. They matter.