This Is Not a War

Picture by Andrew Gustar

There won’t be Union Jack flag-lowering ceremony in Brussels, just as the Big Ben won’t bong on Brexit night. Nothing comparable has happened before, a partition without a bellicose conflict, and those with a celebratory spirit don’t know what to do. The only language and ceremonies available to them are those belonging to war.

Its effect is the opposite, at least in me. Going through my period of acceptance in the process of Brexit grief, I find this desperate extravaganza comforting. Their detachment from reality is somehow endearing, ceremonies have been upended. They’re so far away from the reality that I’m kind of forced to remember what’s actually happening. What’s not happening too.

And this is not a war.

‘Of course nothing stops the cold,

black, curved blade

from hooking forward -

of course

loss is the great lesson.

But I also say this: that light

is an invitation

to happiness,

and that happiness,

when it’s done right,

is a kind of holiness,

palpable and redemptive.’

Mary Oliver, Poppies