People say we should not live in fear, and I would like to agree with this. But I would be lying if I said that I haven't started looking around a bit more when I'm in public places, thinking about what I would do if there was an attack. I would also be lying if I said I'm not concerned about going into big cities, going on public transport and attending big events.
A few days after the Manchester bombing I found myself sitting with my son by the side of a little bike track near where I live, blowing bubbles and watching them float up into the sky. I had been feeling particularly wretched after hearing about some of the victims of that night and wondering what sort of world I was bringing my son up in. There was something calming about watching those bubbles and listening to my little son's giggles, with nothing much around us aside from the trees swaying gently in the wind. At that moment I couldn't have felt further from all that is bad about the world.
It's funny, for recently I started trail running and much to my husband's frustration, have asked the same question over and over again: do you think it's safe for me to go out alone? Not from a getting lost point of view, or from a twisting my ankle point of view, but from the tiniest possibility of some nutter lurking in the bushes, waiting to jump out on me.
In light of the recent atrocities in England, and many other parts of the world, this seems utterly absurd and I've never felt safer than in the country.
It seems wrong that something so tragic can offer a new perspective on other aspects of our life. Perhaps that is just part of the human condition, to strive to find something positive in the darkest of times.
