Our tribe...

Some indigenous cultures have a tradition of embracing and loving the member of the tribe who causes harm, pain or suffering to others. This is an act of treating pain (the wrong doer acted from his own pain) with love. They tell him he is loved. That he is made of divine love and he belongs. He may fight back but eventually the love (which never tires) wins. The community does not give up the battle to reclaim his goodness, no matter how long it may take. To give up on that member of the tribe is to permit darkness to infect the tribe.

We are facing the same battle today in many corners of our lives. It may seem that there is more darkness now than ever but that is not true. There is more love and light now than ever before because of all the hard work done by the generations that have gone before us and the work we are doing today. We, the light bearers, have brought so much love to the world that our planet has shifted and darkness can no longer hide. What seems like an endless series of scandals and injustice and war is the darkness bubbling up to the surface and into the light so it can be healed. It's overwhelming at times but we can bring love to all of this darkness. We are having the conversations, making stands for peace and learning how to have compassion in new and powerful ways. We must not give up, even if it takes generations. 

We heal this world every day with our acts of compassion and as we do, that energy ripples through the world and heals people we will never know. We are the wings of the butterfly and the hurricane is love. 

Just as the tribe does not give up on the evil doing tribe member, we cannot give up on humanity. Keep up the good fight. We are winning. And we are healing the generations before and after us by changing the story of our ancestor's children and our children's ancestors.

Namaste.

A birthday and a lesson after death...

Yesterday was my friend Jonathan's birthday. I've known Jonathan since sixth grade. He was kind and funny and seemed immune to negativity, peer pressure, hatred or meanness. He was quite simply the kindest, most positive and upbeat person I knew. Jonathan and I lost touch as many of us Gen X'ers did (we didn't have anything like Facebook when we graduated - life was very different). One day, at some point after I found Facebook, Jonathan did too and we became Facebook friends. He would send me messages now and then (not posts on my wall but actual, personal messages that often just said "Hi Amy, how's life? I hope you're great. I'm very happy that things went well yesterday at the hospital. I'm so proud of my boy! He's going to play soccer soon!"). You see, Jon had all the reason in the world to be down-trodden. His five year old son had cancer. He and his wife did all they could to have a happy, normal life as they fought against the cancer monster and celebrated his son's little milestones in the big battle and eventual victory over cancer.

Jon died a year and a half ago, suddenly, unexpectedly. Jon shouldn't have died. There was no reason for it. He was young, he was proud of his time spent working out at the Y to be healthy, and he had a son who needed him arguably more than any boy possibly could. I attended Jon's funeral at home and reconnected with old friends. We relived the pure beauty that was Jon. We mourned, we became closer to each other and I met his wife Sheryl and his son as they were saying their goodbyes to my childhood friend.

Sheryl and I connected instantly. I wanted to do something to support her. But I felt that there was nothing I could do. I was wrong. And I am telling you this - if you are reading - because you, like me, probably need to believe in a much greater power than what you and I can comprehend. You need to know that God/the universe/an energy greater than us is always at work in our lives - just like I needed to believe.

Jon died in the fall, not long before Christmas. I felt so compelled to do something for his wife and son but I couldn't imagine what - I barely knew them and I had no idea how it would be received if I did something. I wound up shopping for Christmas gifts for them both - surely, I thought, that was acceptable and welcome. While shopping for a woman my age and a five year old boy I was utterly compelled to purchase a pink feather boa that I tried many times not to buy.  I thought it was too silly, too inappropriate, too - something. But I just went with my first instinct and wrapped it up and gave it to Sheryl for Christmas mere weeks after Jon died. When she opened the gift, she was speechless. She smacked my thigh, looked franticaly around the room and then got up, searching for something. When she came back and sat next to me, she stared at me in disbelief. She couldn't speak and I really wasn't sure what was going on. She had a pile of photographs and kept telling me she had to find one. She found it. It was a silly photo of Jon wearing a feather boa. It had become a joke the two of them shared and laughed about often. I knew instantly: I didn't give Sheryl that feather boa, Jon did. But he needed a human to be quiet enough and trusting enough of her instincts to help him give this gift to his wife who missed him so much so he could say to her "I'm here." ...And I was that human who was eventually quiet and compliant enough to take a pink boa off a wall, buy it, wrap it and give it to someone who would, unbenounced to me, know exactly who it was from.

Yesterday we remembered Jon's entrance into this world in a now-Facebook culture. Many of us posted long messages on his wall about how much we miss him, how his positive outlook continues to teach us and what a gift he was to everyone. And while Jon is "gone," he is often present in my heart and mind because he has been my teacher, both in life and in death. He gave me my first tangible experience of connecting directly with the other side, with God. I took an action that came from deep inside of me, one I could not rationalize or figure out, no matter how hard I tried. That deep instinct (Jon's urging me) persisted and I acted according to that instinct. It wasn't mine to judge, just mine to act upon for someone else's benefit. I believe that this is what we are all given every day: A strong urging to do something that we may not understand, that may not benefit us directly but something that we know comes from a place of love so we go ahead and do it anyway. And so tonight, I share this with you all to suggest that we can all hear the guidance of God and our guides if we just listen to that knowing voice inside of us which proves to always be right, even if we never receive the evidence of just how right it is.

Jon, thank you. I celebrate your birth into this world and the gifts you continue to give us. We all love and miss you and I pray that we will all continue to grow in ways we cannot yet imagine because I know you are there helping us whether we listen or not.

Happy birthday, sweet soul.

What now?

Which seeds are we planting?

I don't think I need to say much about September 11th today on the ten year anniversary of that awful day.  The sentiments have been written over and over today by almost everyone remembering September 11th.  We all have our memories, our personal stories and our pain.  I acknowledge that and I feel for us all.

But so much has happened in ten years.  So much has also not happened that should have...

A decade.  I remember feeling like a decade was a long time at one point but September 11th doesn't feel like it was a decade ago.  It feels so current and I'm afraid the reasons for this aren't what we would have wanted back in 2001.  Since then we've added wars, recession, out of touch politics and politicians and waste in more ways than I can even count.  Right after that fateful day it felt like We, in our Collective Soul As The Human Race all vibrated together, feeling like anything was possible.  Feeling like we could build anything, love anyone and right any wrong.

But where are we today?

I don't know my neighbors save for those in my hallway.  Money has been cut for practically everything and it has impacted my own life in major ways.  I've given up on politics and politicians - I just can't handle the layers and layers of spin, sugar coating and down right lies.  I'm glad to have been born an American but that's because it's all I've ever known and I've been given many entitlements from this side of the "border."  Who knows what my life would have been like had I been born an Austrian, a Frenchman or an African Maasi.

In the past ten years I've learned that borders are money-lines, most truths are lies and no one owns anything - not land nor buildings nor diamond rings.  It's all temporarily "ours" and ownership is an idea, not an right.  It all goes away and it all should because in the end, none of it really matters.

What does matter then?  That's easy for me to answer.

Peace.  Love.  Equality.  Fairness.  Abundance for all people (yes, it is possible).  An end to AIDS.  An end to stress.  An end to slavery, starvation and corruption.  An end to disconnectedness.  A return to our collective soul.  One Soul.  One humanity.

And that's what the next decade of my life will be about, no matter who is in the White House, the Kremlin, British Parliament or the apartment upstairs.  They are all just like me and I think more and more of them will learn this over the next ten years.  Here's to faith and here's to the kind of solidarity of purpose we all felt after September 11th - and a return to that seed which was planted that morning, not the twisted story of war and poverty and slavery and commercialism that has pushed us to the brink ten years later.