I know the chances to be hit by a bus are bigger. I know I shouldn’t think like this. I know my fear doesn’t get me anywhere. I know, realistically, the chance that it happens is extremely small. Funny to say extremely when my fear is about extremists.
Last Sunday, my daughter asked me to visit te Rijksmuseum. We often go there to see some beautiful paintings, or just really quick to see the dollhouses. The dollhouses are her favorite. But last Sunday, I said no. I think it was the first ‘no’ to the Rijksmuseum ever.
And the reason was… ISIS or IS. I’m sort of ashamed to actually admit it, but it’s true. I didn’t want to go to the Rijksmuseum, because I was afraid of IS. I saw a post on Facebook that said ISIS had announced they would attack several European targets on Sunday, and I just didn’t want to take the risk. As if I was safer staying at home…
It is absurdity at top, and I’m fully aware. I’m not scared for ISIS all the time, and ISIS affects my life very little, but I’m probably not the only one who fears ISIS every now and then, maybe only for a bit. In a way, ISIS affects all of us and there are things going on in our world that I do not quite understand. Or maybe I choose to not understand, because all I wish for is respect and love for each other.
Of course nothing happend last Sunday, at least not at Rijksmuseum. On Monday I started feeling stupid for fearing an attack. When my daughter was still asking to go to the Rijks on Tuesday, we faced the stormy weather and walked over there.
We had a wonderful afternoon in the museum, seeing a melting pot of people. A woman with headscarf, while her husband was pushing the stroller. Platinum blonde boys, probably on a school trip, standing next to a miniature ship (and encouraging my daughter to climb on it…). A Dutch elderly couple who kept the lift doors open for us. All together as if nothing is wrong in our world.