The beginning of the end/The end of the beginning?

It's hard not to look at what is going on in Ukraine and feel that we are not on the cusp of something horrible and/or at least monumental. 

My Twitter feed brought me the news of the attack on the children's hospital, and it made my blood run cold. How can you live with yourself if you have done that? How can you forgive if you have lost people in the attack? It's beyond me.

I sat for a good while, maudlin and unfocused. I still am, if the truth be told. It feels like there will be many more days like this.

I hear the "whatabouters" (Syria, Afghanistan, Sudan, Ethiopia) and understand. But it is human nature, I think, to be affected more by that which is closer. I care more about my family than my neighbours, about my neighbours than those in the next street, about my city more than, say Toronto. We have a limited response to tragedy. This brings it home. While I am desperately sad for those in Afghanistan, they are more distant. It's a shocking excuse, and one of which I am ashamed.

My hope is that this ends quickly, and that the willingness to help those in need spreads bloody quickly. The rise of the caring left is spoken of less than the rise of the right. But it is there, it is quiet and it is plentiful.