starry-eyed hope again, sort of.

This week I've been attending a PTSD clinical training at the National Center for PTSD. Part of the training is to sit in on sessions of the residential men's PTSD program they run for combat veterans. Yesterday morning we (rather uncomfortably) sat on the other side of a two-way mirror (or is it one-way mirror?) and watched a group session where veterans did life history reviews, and one of them talked about some childhood traumatic experiences. It was difficult to face some of the stories, to hear what one human being can do to another one. I still don't know how to fit it all together. But when we got out of the session, I walked outside, and there were these brilliant little yellow flowers. The sun was shining, the grass was green...I didn't know what to do with it all. Somehow it fits together without fitting together--beauty, joy, tragedy, horror....I don't know, I feel like I'm babbling. That's what it was like anyway.