It’s not uncommon for me to be confused by a mix of emotions. I’m getting used to the mixed bag that comes up during this time of year. Australia Day, Easter and now Anzac Day, all bring with them joy and sorrow, often at the same time. It has created a new emotion in me, I call it the ‘happysad’. Most of the time I will try and avoid it, but any emotion avoided only builds up to appear in other ways, creating unexplained grumpiness and ruining the day. In an attempt to enjoy Anzac Day this year, to somehow remember and celebrate the sacrifice of so many in the all-too-many wars that have happened and continue to happen, this is me sitting with the ‘happysad’ mixture.
It starts with a question, which, like the new emotion, is complex and doesn’t make much sense.
How do you honour the sacrifice made without glorifying the violence and devastation, mixed sometimes with pure evil, but not forgetting that we exist because of what has gone before, without condoning the use of young men and women as pawns in a greater battle of egos, but acknowledging that we owe a great deal to brave men and women who have faced something I never have (and hopefully never will), although recognising that it’s not right that they had to face that either?
Or, to put it more bluntly, how is it possible to hate something (like war) with such a deep seeded passion, but enjoy its fruits because I live a luxurious life of freedom in Australia?
Here’s what I have so far.
You remember it well. That involves stopping and reflecting on what has been. Listening to stories, honouring those who were there and embracing it as part of our history. Avoiding this reality will only serve to show disrespect for those who have taken part in any war, and their families, friends and communities.
You learn what you can. For me, war teaches that life is valuable. That should go without saying, but it is true. Every person killed as a result of conflict, large or small, is a loss for all of us. In saying that, there are very few winners in a war. The side that claims the victory is the side that has lost the least. That hardly seems like winning. Everyone gets damaged in a fight, when the scale of the fight is larger than a few people, those who get damaged the most are often the people on the sidelines who aren’t involved. Collateral damage is not the cost of doing business, it is a long list of people in the wrong place at the wrong time, who have names, a family, hopes and dreams that will never become reality.
You live well. Without a sense of guilt or shame, but with a strong sense of responsibility shaped from the understanding that we stand on the shoulders of those who have gone before. Whether we like it or not. The least we can do is to live in such a way that we benefit those around us, near and far, through a generous life.
It’s not a complete list, but it’s a starting point to embrace the ‘happysad’ day that is Anzac Day.