And so the wheel turns again. And the compassionate heartful response to life has been ignored. Fight, and the sense of fight has been thick in the air today, and the last days.
This land, this government has chosen to drop bombs on Syria. Massive explosions, and huge amounts of force and resources, poured once again into a fight. A killing fight. What was once in the school playground, is once again being played out on the world stage.
In this brief moment in time, in these tiny lives that we have, here it is, in this day and age, the force of killing , so strongly being put forth.
This is not the w a y it should be, this is not my way. I am ashamed and horrified. And not only that, that this is happening, once again and more and visibly, but that there is such an unheartful resonance with which it is being done. And, how, shockingly, I feel in me, the resonant reflection of the excitement that a part of me has, addicted to war, pain , oppression and inflicting suffering. How so very much I am immune to this. Immune to the very real depths of it.
I look for and request a way to be able to feel more fully, a ful filled feeling, of this life. This aliveness of being alive in life.
I hold an image of a flower, a bright yellow multi petalled flower, with a few green leaves. Fresh bright and new. Somewhere, in the midst of this, there is hope.
