i am sitting at my desk, casually taking bites of a salad as i read various accounts of iraqi women fleeing into the desert, saddam hussein’s baath party members taking up kalishnokovs and sandbagged positions in the streets of baghdad, american soldiers on edge, waiting near the iraqi-kuwait border.

war is about to begin. in the next few days (weeks? months? years?) many human beings will die as the result of the decisions of one man who represents me and a quarter of a billion other citizens of the united states of america. at some point in the next couple of days, george w. bush will probably take a working lunch and discuss the impact of his decisions on world and domestic opinion, the logistics of the war, what bills/budget/executive orders he can push through while media attention is fixed on the war, etc. in between bites of a sandwich, perhaps he, in consultation with his staff, will make choices which will ultimately determine the fate of many people, iraqis and americans, children as well as women and men.

it is amazing to me how we can distance ourselves from the lives and feelings and circumstances of those over whom we have so much influence. we are more connected than we realize. the next time you grip the handle of the nozzle and feel the gasoline flowing into your car’s empty tank, think: how much of that was once crude oil buried deep beneath the desert sands somewhere in the middle east? the same oil which gets you to work may also power the generators which power the computer you are using at this moment to read this post.

i am numb to the situation at the moment. i have been working for weeks to try to stop this war, but as the administration dropped the facade of diplomatic efforts and concentrated on maneuvering the war machine onto the starting line, i have withdrawn, i have emotionally retreated.
i will not stay dormant for long.

as the war progresses, the news reports will roll in. i will focus less on logistics and statistics. as i read i will put aside my meal. i will pause as i read and realize that behind each name, each increment in a number of casualties or collateral dead, is a life, a human life once full of promise and emotion. i will weep for those who die, individual flames extinguished prematurely. i will mourn with those who survive them–mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, daughters and sons::