So…My loves,
I like to give myself at least 24 hours to process a tragedy.
As someone who suffers from delayed reaction syndrome, a name I’ve come to give my unique way of dealing with disaster or tragedy, I know my emotions will swing wildly from a deep numbness, to fear—from resignation to profound sorrow.
So I sit…and I wait. And mindlessly fold socks and eat too much raw cookie dough.
Once I run the gamut of responses and gather myself (literally gather up all the scattered pieces of my SELF), I can see beyond the tragedy to something bigger.
You see, we can get caught in the cycle of hate and revenge (because that’s worked so well up until now), or we can KNOW in our hearts that the Terrorists, contrary to how it seems, have already lost their fight. The only thing their acts of cowardice do is open the Global Heart even further, releasing a torrent of love, compassion, and grace and a renewed sense of CONNECTION—ONENESS.
No more eye for an eye or tooth for a tooth—there are already too many blind and toothless souls in so much pain walking the planet.
Then what is the answer? I have no fucking idea. Here is all I know for sure.
Love. There is Only love.
You hurt my Lebanese, Syrian, Parisien brother, you hurt me. We are connected. We are one.
But here’s what helps me. They lead me out of the fear and rage—back to where I belong—my heart.
Use this chant or the poem below to center yourselves and find your way back to your hearts.
Sending you all my love,
xox
I was reminded of the most beautiful Buddhist meditation/prayer for fear.
It is recited by Colleen Saidman Yee at the end of her yoga classes.
I just love it and I thought you would too.
Here are her words.
“It goes something like this: Sit down and notice where you hold your fear in your body.
Notice where it feels hard, and sit with it. In the middle of hardness is anger.
Go to the center of anger and you’ll usually come to sadness.
Stay with sadness until it turns to vulnerability.
Keep sitting with what comes up; the deeper you dig, the more tender you become.
Raw fear can open into the wide expanse of genuineness, compassion, gratitude, and expectancy in the present moment.
A tender heart appears naturally when you are able to stay present.
From your heart, you can see the true pigment of the sky. You can see the vibrant yellow of a sunflower and the deep blue of your daughter’s eyes.
A tender heart doesn’t block out rain clouds, or tears, or dying sunflowers.
Allow beauty and sadness to touch you.
This is love, not fear.”