In two consecutive text messages to my partner tonight, I sent a link to the crisis on the India/Pakistan border and then right after, a link to Huffington Post story about a comic.

As I read the story, I thought to myself ‘ok, this is kind of cool.’

Essentially what the comic is, Priya Shakti,, is an amazing journey of a woman who survived a gang rape and went on to become a superhero, raising awareness and fighting the patriarchal system.  In the second part of the journey, Priya’s Mirror, she meets women who have survived acid attacks and they go on to defeat a demon.

I’m not that much of a comic book fan myself; that is more my partner’s thing.

But the thought of this comic, available for free, in many languages, on the internet… how it’s raising awareness for these victims.  How it’s making heroes out of victims.

That’s kind of what we do.  We are ourselves survivors.  Anyone reading this is a survivor.

Some of us have more challenges to go through than others, but we are all survivors of our own stories.

One of my favorite quotes that goes around is “Your survival rate for bad days is 100%.”

And really, that’s true.

Sometimes all we can do is survive.  Tonight, it’s all I can do.  I had to shut off everything from the outside world and just delve into articles and reading and writing and just tune out.

But this comic, this awesome comic.

I see the survivors in the story.  I see the survivor in my story.

I don’t feel like a survivor tonight.  I feel like someone who is completely opposite of a survivor, whatever that would be.

But I am.  I am a survivor.  Of many, many things.  Of 100% of my bad days.

There is so much bad in the world right now.  Everywhere I look, it seems like the world is going to erupt into nuclear war tomorrow.  I hate the fighting, I hate the poverty, I hate everything terrible that is wrong with the world.

But then, through all that terrible, comes the good.  Stories of survivors, stories of resiliency and stories of triumph over adversity.  Stories of random acts of kindness, stories of strangers opening their homes, like in Paris.

There is good.  We know there is good.  We might be overwhelmed by the bad, but the good is there.  The good is what tells us the bad is bad.  The bad is what makes us appreciate the good.

Find the good.  Be the good.


Today, I had a lovely half hour chat with an elderly couple while waiting for my neurologist who was running about forty-five minutes late.  She was in for a checkup on her pacemaker.  We had seen many of the same doctors, we had lived in similar areas.  Her daughter is a dog trainer where I live.  We just talked and chatted.  Her husband told me about how he has four kidneys (two kidney transplants) and both have failed and he is on dialysis 3 days a week for 3 and a half hours at a time.  But there she was, in her pretty little dress with the yellow flowers, a silver watch with a blue face that she got off the TV because she had always wanted a silver watch with a blue face.  And then, somewhere in the middle of it, she hands me this card.  It says “Hello” in big letters, and is a contact card for her, her husband and their Maltese, Pookie.

Really, it was a fascinating conversation.  Until now it’s been forgotten and lost in the day and in the shuffle of the doctor’s appointment and subsequent crash.

But it was a beautiful thirty minutes.  I will definitely be calling her.  I wonder if she does email?

See.  There is good.

I couldn’t see the good from today because I was so focused on the bad and how I felt.  But I found it.  In writing my day out, in processing everything out, I remembered the good part of the day and I can breathe a little easier now, with my head a little higher and my heart a little lighter.

Find the good.  Be the good.

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