I have been experiencing a sinking feeling everytime I hug my daughter. Even as I try and envelop myself in her warm embrace, a cold dread washes over me like I'm plunging silently into water.

As her tiny arms clasp around my neck, I remember the mangled bodies of children that look like her. Surviving faces numb and covered in ash and blood. Little dreams extinguished by harrowing fire from above. Demolished sanctuaries and lifelong memories buried beneath them.

I feel these horrors manifest themselves like apparitions behind her, staring at my soul with a longing that robs me of the moment. I feel thick cords of guilt suspend my heart. Like indulging in my daughter's embrace is selfish. I feel a piece of my humanity slip in each of these moments as the apparitions fade away just as quickly as they appeared.

This isn't war. It is an occupier subjecting the innocent to collective punishment. Like a warden punishing his prisoners for some daring to disturb the order of their subjugation. I feel the colonizer's contempt for my daughter. It invades my love for her from thousands of miles away. Charred little corpses to remind me that they can determine our brutal fate on this world.

Nowadays I probably value my flexibility as much as my strength, or more. And my hips have always been tight. But now I can do deep squats like second nature and just sit in that position for 5 minutes without a problem.

As you get older, the small things become victories. Especially with desk job most of the day 😅