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During These Days…

March 1, 2022

During These Days…

By Amba Gale

During these days, I constantly ask myself, “What can I do?” “What can we do?”

We can recognize the unity that is occurring throughout most of the world.

We can spend some time each day, extending our hearts to the people whose lives have been displaced.

We can learn from our fellow global friends to extend our hands.

I was recently speaking with a most empowering man on the phone who was supporting my husband and me to procure tickets for an international trip we are taking later this year. We asked him where he was located. He said, “Moldova.” I sat with that for a while, as Moldova borders Ukraine.

The next time we talked, I asked him if he could feel the war nearby. What followed were many comments about the unimaginable, bizarre nature of what is going on, in this time on the planet, a questioning of the impossibility of the existence of man gone berserk with greed and power, and a sharing with us that everyone he knows, around him, is reaching out to the thousands of refugees pouring into his country, extending their homes, extending food, extending kindness.

We can learn from this man, to stop and look, and see to whom in our own world each of us could extend our generosity, our kindness, could extend our heart, our hand, our voice.

Who is not well?
Who is in need of a loving, non-judgmental, listening ear?
Who is hurting?
Who is losing something or someone?
In what ways can our own voice be a source of empowerment, light of healing or another, for others?

To fulfill on this, though, we must first “put our own house in order,” as Mathew Fox says in “The Reinvention of Work.” He says we must start with our inner house first, and move out from there, into the houses of our families, communities.

What conversations can you have? What actions can you take in behalf of putting your own house in order? I invite you to take a time out, slow down, and reflect upon this during each day.

 

 

I Was Afraid

By Amba Gale

I was afraid
no poetic words would come to me this morning,
surrounded by the grief and loss and sadness in the world,
as I am.

“Where is Peace to be found?” I ask.

And then
I realized
my life
itself
is the poem.

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