Dear One,

In “CATCHING STARS,” one of the vignettes in my memoir, Angels on the Clothesline, the young me lies down in the grass looking up at the night sky.  She finds it hard to keep singing, quieted by the immensity of the sky.  Awe silences her until she finds her voice again.

I have been quieted these past months.  Not sad, although deeply saddened at times.  Not silenced, although I’ve been silent in regards to writing and sending these love letters.

Much has been stirred and I would say awakened in me in relation to what is unfolding in Israel-Palestine.  I have been educating myself in ways I did not engage in before about the history of Israel and Palestine, opening the lens and my heart to a variety of perspectives from a variety of sources.

In the midst of what seems irreconcilable and hopeless division that can only lead to more suffering, I’ve found my way to groups whose joint work is grounded in a vision of peaceful co-existence on this land sacred to generations of Jews and Arabs.  The courage and perseverance of these individuals against the seeming odds—Israeli Jews and Arab citizens of Israel,  as well as Palestinians under occupation, all committed to nonviolence—fuels my faith.

One of these groups, Parents Circle—Families Forum, for bereaved family members who have lost loved ones to the longstanding conflict, was co-founded by two fathers, Rami, an  Israeli Jew, and Bassam, a Palestinian living in the West Bank. Both lost their young daughters.  I heard each say, in a profoundly moving online gathering: If we who have lost so much can believe in and work together toward peace, then…

I don’t remember the exact words that followed; what I felt was a compelling, irresistible invitation to not give up and not give in to fear, starting with becoming more aware of how my fear shows up.

Part of my becoming more “quiet”  has been pausing more.   I pause to be more present to both my outer and inner life.  I pause when I notice that I am anxious, feel contracted, fearful.   In my life, the fear is not of imminent attack.  Rather it is most often my thoughts that have triggered the fear.   I’ve been more  curious about this, more observant.

Recently, I had an experience, which I will try to describe (in broad strokes).   I became aware one afternoon, listening to a news program, of my strong resentful and fearful reaction yet again to those with very different views from mine (about racism, and just about everything else).  I felt threatened, not just me personally, but that a world rooted in respect for each other was being imperiled.

Then I saw clearly (with compassion not self-blame) that I was doing to “them,” these “others,” what they were doing to me.  I was othering just as they were.  I was feeling separate and needing to defend against them and their values, not unlike them defending their beliefs and attacking mine.  I  also saw that  letting fear take me over was giving my true power away.

What happened next was spontaneous and transformative.  I got the directive from within, i.e., I was inspired, to expand my consciousness, to expand my love so that it included these others,  these threatening enemies within that love.

I did not have to agree with them or invite them to dinner or passively accept their views and actions or vehemently try to change them–in that moment what I needed to do was expand and expand and expand my consciousness to hold ALL within it.  In a field of love.  No conditions right then.  No way to fake it either.  I had to feel it.  And I did.

I knew that this field of love could be the catalyst for change,  perhaps the greatest change agent of all.

I have been practicing that expansion ever since.  Aware that I am triggered by fear, I try to move from contraction to finding love and expanding it.  Sometimes, I just close my eyes and open to embrace all within Love.

This is not layering pink frosting on reality, nor is it “accepting unacceptable behavior,” as is said in the Al-Anon Family Groups 12 Step Program, which focuses on relationships and codependency.  I am finding that my expansion practice does not make me passive, quite the contrary.  I feel energized rather than discouraged.  I recognize the invitation to be a co-creator, grounded in possibility.   I feel more than hopeful.

I do not deny the darkness; I just light a candle, as the expression goes.  I try my best to kindle the flame of inner Love, which is one with the outer Love seeking expression through us (no matter how small these expressions of love may seem).

It’s becoming clearer and clearer to me that every one of us can contribute even when so much seems to be out of our hands.  We can add our light, our love, our longing for the best in humanity to triumph.  We can, starting with ourselves, little by little transform our fear.  This is the alchemy of Love.  We can practice not feeling separate until we know in our very cells the truth of our Oneness.

***

Right now, my pause is  the pause to be with you—because it is true that I feel that I am “with you” when I sit to write these love letters (as perfectly imperfect as they be).

I write you with so much love and respect for your being.  With immeasurable respect for the courage and awe with which you live day to day—even if some days are touched by a small or large measure of despondency in the face of outer tumult and/or inner struggle.

We are in this together, which is ultimately the good news,  as more and more of us experience our capacity to love beyond what we imagined possible—with what is yet to be, beyond what we can even imagine now.

Shalom.   Salaam.

Recently, I was sitting in a local Mediterranean cafe waiting for takeout. On the wall, I saw this. The Hamsa Hand is a universal sign of protection, power, and strength that dates back to ancient Mesopotamia. Known as the Hand of Fatima in Islam and Hand of Miriam in Judaism, it’s believed to protect against the evil eye and all negative energies.  A good image for these times.