Tag: compassion

It is time

I gaze into the glow of a blank screen,
listening to voices dripping venom,
men in masks spitting hate
as unseen puppeteers tug the strings…
violence dispensed like cheap candy,
their mouths snapping open
like machines built only to wound.

And yet
beyond that darkness,
the people gather.
They rise in quiet reverence,
a hush that holds more power
than any shouted threat.

I watch the monks
reach the end of their long walk,
a pilgrimage carved in bare feet and prayer,
a walk for peace
that has brushed against thousands of hearts
and left them trembling awake.

We stand with them…
hands clasped,
souls yearning,
hoping their gentle wisdom
might shift the tides,
open the eyes long sealed by fear,
send a wave of love
sweeping across a land
torn open by ignorance
and stitched with lies.

Our nation’s cloth
hangs shredded in the wind.
And still…
we hold the edges,
refusing to let it all come apart.

It is time to turn the page
before the snake slithers out
and consumes the fragile hope
we’ve just lifted from the hat.

Can hope rise above this?
Can peace be nurtured
in soil scorched by division?
Can its roots dig deep enough
to cradle the lost
as they stumble after false prophets
into the yawning abyss?

Can we survive this season?
Rebuild what was broken?
Learn again to love our neighbor
without trembling in our own doorway?

Can we silence the tidal wave of lies,
the loud, empty rhetoric
that poisons minds
and sells fear
to those desperate to belong
even if belonging means
bowing to power,
forsaking truth,
forgetting the dignity
of honest labor
and the humility of shared struggle?

Yes.
But only if we choose it.
Only if we step forward now…
not in rage,
but in courage.

Only if we admit
that change is not coming
unless we become it.

It is time.

Time to rise.
Time to rebuild.
Time to reclaim the heart
that beats beneath this fractured nation
and remind it
softly, fiercely
what it was made for:

Love.
Peace.
And one another.

May all beings suffering find and end to that suffering and peace. ☮️🕊️🙏🏼 J

Torn at Many Levels

The breeze gently caresses my face. The sound of the waves rolling softly onto the shore soothes me. A tree behind me in the jungle hums with cicadas. The tide is rising toward the full moon high, and soon we will move to higher ground. Soft music plays in the background. 

My day began with deep yoga meditation and a sound bath. 

I take a slow breath of clean, warm, salty air, leaving a faint taste of salt on my lips. My new friends are enjoying the surf. It feels blissful, almost trance-like.

This is my day of peace, and I offer any merit I gain simply by being kind, sharing it with all beings who are suffering.

I enter the sea, grateful for its coolness. The waves rise and crest in a foamy froth. The sun dances across the choppy water, stretching as far as I can see. I breathe and submerge beneath a crashing wave. Energy moves through my body as I rise again and breathe. Salt stings my eyes, and the current seems to flow out through my feet. The rhythm repeats, again and again.

I notice the contrast between heat and coolness and reflect on my own state of mind — peace alongside worry, tenderness beside ache. For a moment, I hold a gentle prayer for the safety of those who live for what is right, who serve not only themselves but others. My heart breathes toward their pain, their sacrifice, their suffering — with compassion and quiet hope.🕊️J