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She found a life worth living

An intimacy borne of courage

And grace

That could only be seen

By those who allowed

Her wounds to heal

Without judgement.

She wanted to be who others needed her to be,

Who others thought she actually was

Even walking the path the universe laid out for her.

Until the moment came

She realized in her own absence, the emptiness

Was a darkness she could no longer carry.

So she stopped pretending,

And threw her shame out the door.

Closed her mind and heart to all those voices who never really knew her.

And she became herself

A thousand times over

A thousand times within.

Not even the universe recognized her.

It didn’t matter. Because she finally recognized herself.

I don’t often experience this in NYC but a man in his thirties asked me how my day was going. I responded in kind and then we sat near each other. There were a few moments of quiet, followed by what seemed at first was light conversation begun by him again. I rarely have time to myself and was torn between engaging and politely telling him I just needed not to converse with anyone. I try and take moments of solitude when I can, even when my car is getting serviced. I noticed he was calm, almost too calm, so that piqued my interest as to where the conversation would go. I let him lead and I simply listened. He began by sharing that he just moved back to NY to be close to his mother and that over a year ago, he retired from the military. He had been in since he was seventeen. He would tell me of the fifty seven countries he visited, warfare school, some of the perks for him of being in service. As he continued the conversation, I pulled back into a more neutral space. I noticed he began to become hypervigilant, his leg began to shake, his speech quickened. Then he started to traverse the darkness. His traumatic brain injury, 8 concussions from blasts, one from jumping onto his friend to protect him from being killed. His protocols range from a number of medications from antidepressants and antianxiety meds, to steroid shots in his skull on an ongoing basis. The frost bite in the bones in his feet has caused drop foot, his shoulder is severely damaged from an explosion. I saw the nightmares in his energy field and asked him if he slept okay. He said no, he suffered with nightmares constantly. I understood why this sweet man walked in to ask how my day was. I understood the need for normalcy, for connection, for knowing that he was okay. There was one part of the conversation where he said to me he wasn’t crazy, as though posing it as a question. I told him that it would be okay if he was. With all that he went through, crazy was just a part of walking through to the other end of healing. He asked me if I noticed if he kept looking over things all the time and that it was a bad habit he developed from his trauma. I told him his hypervigilance had saved his life many times, what a blessing. And that as time passes, he will find other ways to cope as he feels safe. He went from calm to very anxious, even showing me pictures of his wounds and some of his training. I sat there and looked and listened, realizing that he was inviting me to become a part of his story just for that moment, so that perhaps his story could have the opportunity to be witnessed and also shifted from his perspective, even from mine. I asked him to please find support here, a tribe, while he kept saying he thought he would be okay. I said it was okay even if there were times he wasn’t okay.

I notice that during this war between the Israelis and the Palestinians, as in all wars, so many are taking sides. The epigenetic threads that we are creating in response to this will be passed down to future generations. Peace will not come if we don’t become a part of everyone’s story. We are too immersed in anger and grief to allow ourselves to be open to perceptions of suffering from people we would never even think of holding space for. Problem is we will never know how anyone has truly suffered until we bear witness to a story we would never even think of listening to.

Your ancestors will rise

In every cell in your body

In shackles and chains

That only you could unlock

With shattered hearts

Only you can mend

With tortured stories of lives gone astray

Only you can rewrite

With buried hatred

Only you can heal

Just waiting for someone to take their hand

And show them there is another way

To soften those moments

Where the darkness forgot

That forgiveness is the path

To redemption.

Of ancient cries amidst war

The desolation and emptiness that only darkness can bring.

You search for souls as your narrative

Weaves its way among ruins and bodies

Whose story becomes imprinted in your own

And within generations not even birthed yet.

You and I were once torn by gunfire and hatred

In another time, another place.

Do you think there are sides to war beyond the veil

Where the light glows?

You are both my comrade and my enemy

As centuries have passed

And our wounds have befriended

A peace deemed by God.

But our minds still want war

And to tear each other’s stories to shreds

So that no one can whisper victory but you.

When you finally cross beyond that veil

You will learn that victory belongs to nobody but

The light you refused to see.

Hearts from a somber and ravaged earth

Waiting for heaven’s staircase to welcome

Any whispers pleading for mercy 

So that war takes no more 

Souls of children who have yet to birth a voice

Somewhere between freedom and peace

A prayer will know stillness

But at what cost to humanity

Does one more tear even matter to those

Who cannot see beyond darkness?

Keep those prayers afloat in your hearts,

In your dreams,

And one day, perhaps, it will be hatred that will be the illusion

We will awaken from.

Drenched in landscapes of confused memories

Torn between past and present

Lingering moments within the abyss

Ready to jump off the precipice

Hoping to find meaning for suffering long held

In one’s presence of being.

Why can’t you see the signs?

The light that blessed the wound upon its wayward journey.

The life created so that your memories would exist.

The peace that held your hand as you were ready to jump.

The softening of your suffering when you became still.

Don’t be so afraid of letting your wounds heal.

You are most deserving of this grace.

An alchemical opening glistening in the silence

Of this purification between heaven and earth.

What is it that we are frightened of?

An immeasurable euphoria molded by extremes of both heartbreak and joy

In every pearl of water that falls from the sky.

You and me christened by the same moon, the same sun, the same stars

Only to see each other so differently that the gods

Contemplate our sanity at times.

In every raindrop, I will find you my friend.

And you will find me.

Inhale peace from the knowing that we fall from the same heaven

And pilgrimage along the same earth.

The only shelter is one in which we all call home.

Gather the bones of your ancestors my friends. Gently whisper into their ears.
The time has come to be released from their form.
Even in the world of spirit, some still struggle with the darkness. Others still fear the light.
Accompanied by the Divine, you will become master of your own heart as this portal emerges upon us.
A solstice so inviting, the sun and moon weep tears of ecstasy,
The stars surrender to a rhythm only love can create.
We are in a brief moment in time where we can dwell in the house of the gods.
All of us.
Both saint and sinner, equally held by tender mercies of a great compassion we have yet to behold.
It is here the unknown will be known to us.
Where God’s magnificent handiwork upon creation
Will be afforded the indispensable opportunity to forgive one another.
To release each other from the very darkness that brought us to this place.
To release our ancestors from their own fears.
Yes, a brief moment in linear time is upon us my fellow travelers.
We beseech you Solstice, have mercy on us and give us the strength to enter into love unconditionally.

The fires in Maui

The flooding in Libya

Just a few of the tears in our sorrowful tapestry as we wait for more to come.

The earth has become a battlefield and

Death has become a neighbor

Waiting to be recognized with the

Early morning sun only to rest before the rising moon.

We are drenched in the unknown

Not knowing which ancestor to call upon for mercy

Forgetting that our hatred of those who have different wounds

Than us has scorched the earth

Dried her womb of creation

Drained her blood of hope.

We have been given time to remember the valley of God from which we came.

Every angel has shouldered the burden of our mistakes

Has forgiven our trespasses

Has talked with the sun, the moon, the stars

Has begged the earth to forgive us for not understanding what it means to love.

We still have time

To love.

It is a choice.

One that shouldn’t be so difficult to make.