Because I Care

At night, before I drift off to sleep, I find myself sending out positive energy to the orphaned children of Iran, Africa, and those caught in the crossfire of the Russo-Ukrainian War. These children, many of whom have lost their parents, bear the scars of a world in conflict. Their tragedies are a direct consequence of so-called "smart bombs" deployed by the U.S., Russian, and Ukrainian armed forces—bombs that are, in reality, anything but smart.

In moments of quiet reflection, I offer meditations and affirmations for a better future for these children, who have been both physically and psychologically disabled by war. They face an uphill battle, with minimal access to rehabilitation services, especially as these conflicts continue to rage on. As a global society, we have failed them—a failure so profound that to call it a mere lapse of responsibility would be a gross understatement. These children are not just victims; they are our children because their plight calls upon our shared humanity and collective sense of care. As adults, the blood of their suffering stains our hands.

The roots of this suffering often lie in the ignorance and indifference perpetuated by archaic religious superstitions, hollow rituals, and the unwillingness to challenge oppressive systems. These misguided beliefs have long stifled progress, making us complicit in the damage inflicted upon future generations. It is a disservice of catastrophic proportions, one we cannot afford to ignore if we care about the survival and flourishing of our world.

People often ask me why I choose to write about such unsettling topics. My answer is simple: my goal as a writer is to provoke discomfort, to plant a seed of unease in the depths of your conscience. A well-crafted narrative should disturb the soul, urging it to confront the uncomfortable truths buried beneath layers of complacency. For many, particularly religious zealots, this discomfort stems from an inherent awareness of the contradictions in their belief systems—a nagging realization that there is, indeed, a "fly in the ointment."

Silence in the face of these issues is nothing short of betrayal. The collective refusal to act or even acknowledge these crises is a corrosive force, gnawing away at the subconscious of society. And if it does not bother you, perhaps it’s because you simply do not care. Apathy is a luxury afforded by privilege, but it comes at a dire cost to those who suffer in silence.

In a world riddled with despair, we must choose to be a positive light. This requires rejecting the passive existence of one among billions of "lost sheep" who blindly adhere to outdated dogmas. Instead, we must embrace critical thinking and compassionate action. The gullibility, self-centeredness, and arrogance of fundamentalist ideologies are a detriment to the collective good, perpetuating cycles of harm and stagnation.

True care demands courage—the courage to question, to challenge, and to stand up against systems that perpetuate suffering. It requires us to move beyond the superficial comfort of rituals and platitudes, diving instead into the hard work of creating tangible change. This is the essence of love and truth, the twin forces that have the power to transform our fractured world.

The future of our children—of all children—depends on our ability to act with integrity and compassion. To look away is to fail them, to betray not only their trust but also the fundamental principles of humanity. If we truly believe in a better world, we must embody the change we wish to see.

So, I write—not to offer easy answers or false hope, but to provoke thought and, hopefully, inspire action. The path forward will not be easy, but it is necessary. The lives of countless children, and the soul of our collective humanity, depend on it.