This has been another one of those weeks with a lot of distractions. I'd like to be able to just get up in the morning, do my morning chores, sit down here in my office with a mug of tea, and get to work. But more often than not, as soon as I check email or the news, answer the phone or look at a text, all my plans for the day disintegrate into a puff of wistful dust. Working from a home office requires a lot of discipline, but unfortunately it also requires being online.

On Friday we had a snowstorm--on April 16. I was finishing a sermon for a church service on Saturday. On Monday, I got caught up in the closing arguments in the Derek Chauvin trial out in Minneapolis. I was in synch with a lot of people on that one, I know. I rarely watch TV, I'm a reader--I read newspapers. But the newspapers run live streaming video. They get me every time. I go to read the news, and there's a live video, happening right now, this moment! Must watch! And so the hours fly by...

On Wednesday, we had lightning and thunder, including a lightning strike so close to my house, I went outside to make sure nothing was on fire. But Tuesday was the day I'll remember. That's the day that the jury returned three "guilty" verdicts against Derek Chauvin.

A colleague had called me just as the jury was about to come in, and I had to hastily tell him I'd call him right back. I knew a lot of people who didn't think Mr. Chauvin would be convicted. I felt otherwise--in part because Mr. Chauvin's attorney made the worst summation in the history of high-profile jurisprudence and appeared oblivious to how he sounded. I felt that history was going to be made, and I had to be watching live.

Even I didn't expect a guilty verdict on all three counts. I actually gasped. But once the verdicts had been read, I turned off the video and called my colleague back so we could talk about this promotional material we were on hard deadline for. I told him about the verdicts, but we didn't have a long discussion.

The whole thing just made me feel so sad. From start to finish, it just seems like such a waste.

They say that about war, too. And in a way this is a war we're in--senseless, and pointless, and full of casualties both combatant and bystander, victims of both aggression and friendly fire. And what is it all for? What is anyone gaining from it?

As I watched the verdicts being read, all I could think of was George Floyd. I wonder what he would think of all this, I thought. What would George think of the murals with his face, and the violence, and the protests? Would he say, like Rodney King, "can't we all just get along"? Would he feel vindicated by Mr. Chauvin's conviction? Does he, somewhere, still want to speak for himself, explain what really happened?

Is his spirit at peace? I hope so. I hope he has been able to Go On, to continue the journey his spirit is meant to follow. I hope his violent death did not trap him here. I hope someone was able to meet him when he took that so-public last breath. Perhaps it was his mother who came for him. I'd like to believe that.

And that's what I'm thinking about. Americans, in general, have become so hardened and callous about death. But every death is a momentous thing. Every death we actually witness changes us forever. Every unnecessary death scars us, and Americans are very unequipped to deal with death and its effects on the living. Too many Americans are quick to threaten violence and death, and are convinced that the solution to every problem, disagreement, conflict or frustration is to pull out a gun and blow it away. Our movies and TV shows and recreation are orgies of mock violence. But it becomes real all too easily.

Added to this is the American inability to think in terms of prevention. I'm sad to see Mr. Chauvin waste his life, too. In a sane world, he would have been stopped before it got this far. We know he has personality traits that made him unfit to be in a position of authority. He should have been helped, years ago. But in America, we simply let people run off the deep end and then punish them. They usually take a lot of innocent people with them when they fall and leave a lot of wreckage in their wake. We need to find compassionate ways to protect society from those who cannot control themselves--before the damage is done.

Our society is changing, but I'm not convinced it's changing in the best way. We're still not looking at the big picture. What is it going to take to make Americans really see ourselves with honesty and humility, and really change?

Maybe George knows now. If only we could ask him.

Inanna Arthen