Heart Tethers

hold on

Photo: Osnat Halperin-Barlev

 

There’s a tether that connects the hearts of care, the souls of kindness. It is tangible. It is sublime. It has a quality of light which bridges time and place, happenstance and circumstance.

It is not about words. Or at least not exactly. It is the way one can be seen: if known by name or face or only by the recognition of a shared humanity. It is the way one can be heard: by action or response, reflection or emotion, by prayer and by thought. It is the way we all are one, essentially, affected by the pains and joys that grip even those whom we may not know, and yet are part of us, in one way or another.

There is a tether that fetters heartbeats to the expressions of another. It is seen in young and old as mirror neurons and empathy weave the tapestry of wisdom and pulse with compassion.

There is a tether interlinking who we each are with who we can be. It exists in sharp relief to whom we might become if we risk the loss of that which nourishes what ticks within.

“It is a chain to care,” some say, reluctant of obligation. “A leash. A hindrance to independence.”

Not so, for it is not restraint, but rather a foundation. A cornerstone of interconnection. We are none of us truly an island, and all part of a shared future: the air, the earth, the water, the resources, the young and old, the hearts and minds.

 

 

For The Daily Post

A Little Closer

vugust on tumblr

Photo: vugust on tumblr

 

“Granpa is no here anymore,” he stated, morose, “he go back to very far.”

The little boy raised impossibly long-lashed honey eyes to me but I didn’t think he was looking at anything in the room. His eyes were seeing through the walls and out to where a presence is not constrained by oceans, mileage, and topography.

His little face was pinched in a sad frown and he fingered the edge of his shirt, before taking in a long breath that seemed to fill not only his lungs but also return the sparkle into his eyes. He pointed a small finger at the center of his chest. Exhaled. Took another breath.

“But Granpa no really faraway,” he declared, the last two words blended into one in a sing-song. “My heart think so he only little closer very far.”

 

 

For The Daily Post

Champion Compassion

love4

Champion compassion, not judgment.

Hold close kindness rather than disdain.

Treasure connection over hierarchy.

Prize intention above gain.

Cherish empathy, for it will nourish.

Uphold truth …

Remember

Learn.

Protect hearts, and peace will follow.

Defend the weak, and they’ll be strong.

Nurture hope, and it will grow sturdy.

Safeguard the Earth

Where

All

belong.

 

 

For The Daily Post

Elixir of Hope: The Recipe

elixir

In one heart, mix equal parts:

Pearls of connection, words of caring, acts of kindness, steps of courage, hugs of comfort, breaths of peace, paths of truth, smiles of joy, touches of compassion.

Brew with gentleness till ample Hope forms.

 

For The Daily Post

Above all, Love.

Breathe now

The light

That dances on the pavement

Filters between branches of bare trees

From winter sky.

Breathe now

Because the truth

Remains

In spite

Of images

Or imaginings

Of misplaced

Amplified

Fear.

Breathe …

Because above all,

Love.

Of life

Of nature

Earth

All babies

Freedom

Oxygen and gravity.

Love of

Heart strings and connection

Of compassion

And

The ties that bind.

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Photo by A.Katz

 

For The Daily Post

Unfiltered Illusion

interconnectedness-by-deificusart

Image by DeificusArt

Until not very long ago, people lived under the illusion that their small corners of the world were separate entities somehow disconnected from the remainder of the Earth. Their lives focused on the immediate surroundings and the people they had met or known or who shared their close environment. Other places were ‘far away.’ Unseen worlds where things happened to ‘other’ people; as alien as Mars; not our concern.

We know better now. Or should.

The reality that all of us are huddled on a marble hurtling through space is indisputable. The reality of our deeds impacting the survival of another is a fact, not fiction. Humanity is interconnected. We all are children of the same ancestors. The ‘others’ aren’t really any different than our own.

It is one planet. We’re all roommates, essentially.

Our actions and inactions impact everyone, this way or another, whether we follow the threads of our choices responsibly, or kick the can, turn off the light and pretend the mess we left is someone else’s to clean up.

You toss a plastic bag into the trash and the next thing you know it tangles fishing lines thousands of miles over and kills the fish that feed the children there. You drill the depths for oil and gas and the next thing you know it spills and blocks the sunlight from the reefs, confuses the navigation of oceanic animals, pollutes the very bed of life we all depend on, the very food on your plate. Someone grows hate in faraway ‘over there’ and it oozes onto disillusioned youth ‘here at home.’ It feeds on itself and on the fear and anger that spews from it. You make war and it kills people in concentric circles of misery that span the globe, physically and otherwise.

Ripples in the water. One vast system.

We’re not separate. Separation is made up.

Borders are man made lines of convenience and power. They contain no values of their own. They aren’t filters of morals, merit, or ‘type of person’ for who is or is not worthy of respect or life or empathy or a home. It’s an illusion to think that other countries are somehow disconnected, unaffected, un-affecting, irrelevant, less than. It’s an illusion to pretend that one’s borders make one a better person, or make the ‘other’ a lesser. It is blindness to believe that all we need to do is tend to ‘here’ and that the ‘there’ is for someone else to care for. There is no ‘here’ and ‘there’ on a shared sphere.

What we spit out, flush out, frack out, drill out, spill out … how we treat each other, all life, and everything on this planet … is an immediate reflection of who we are, a shared future. We all use the same water, air, resources, and atmosphere.

Filters of religion, race, location, finances–they are all artificial.

One planet. One species of humanity. One biosphere.

It is time we filter out division. It is time we hold a sieve to separate false-views of qualitative value that puts one human’s worth above another’s. It is time we catch the flotsam and jetsam of bigotry and misogyny; apprehend the debris of religions used not for tolerance and acceptance but for divisiveness and pseudo-hierarchy; dismantle outdated beliefs of patriarchy and other pretended superiority that use lies and fear-of-other to justify all kind of war.

Because when all that artificiality is filtered out, when layers of man-made pretense are taken off and we see life for what it is and not the ‘alternative facts’ some want to force into pseudo-reality: It becomes clear.

In the core of real spirituality in all traditions, it always was:

The truth.

We are, and always had been, one.

One planet. One climate. One. Interconnected, intertwined

No walls can change that.

Pathways to Hope

path

In times of much uncertainty,

It can be hard to see a path

Worth taking.

A walk unencumbered by darkness or demise

Might seem improbable

Potential tarnished

Possibility destroyed.

For there is so much vitriol. Fear-mongering. Divisiveness. Incitement.

There may seem no way worthy.

No path available; a future bleak with war.

 

There’s hope, however, in paths semi-forgotten

In steps untrodden

In walkways hidden under heaps of misdirection, worry, mirrors, smoke.

There are sturdy lanes to follow.

Not the blathering ones cluttered with false promises or empty bravado

But the ones one forges

With their soul.

These paths, too, are waiting

Ever present, patient, true to form.

 

In a time when paths seem blocked

Futures sold to the highest bidder

The loudest, richest, most shocking

To the very wrong …

There are still avenues

Unmarred,

Open vistas

Brimming with

Clear breath

Kindness

Real growth.

 

So if you find the path a-twisted

If you feel the weight of futures crucial to avoid,

Step yourself away from highways-into-nothing

And take instead a quiet stroll

Into your soul.

Find solitude

Hold empathy

Recall respect for all that is,

The Truths that make life possible:

Compassion, not destruction

An open heart

The step by steps which widens futures

To allow companionship

Acceptance

The brilliance woven into threads of love

For tapestries of hope.

path lit

Hang in the Balance

balance

We all hang in the balance.

Can’t you see?

Be gentle.

Be truthful.

Be fair.

Above all–be kind.

We all hang in the balance.

Do you understand?

The smallest. The heavy. The brazen. The meek. The old. The young.

We all hang in the balance.

It matters.

Above all–be kind.

Connections

connection muir

The boy, five years old, had his hands deep in soft dough. “What do butterflies eat?” There was a butterfly cutter among the shapes on the table, likely the inspiration.

“Nectar.”

“From the flowers?”

“Yep!”

Silence, a bit more kneading, pulling, twisting and squeezing. This kid has such high sensitivity to textures that it took three months of work with an excellent occupational therapist before he was willing to touch the dough, let alone let it squirt between his fingers. My work with him was reinforcing the OT work in the speech-and-language contexts. Children learn much better when their body is engaged.

“What do frogs eat?” He fingered the frog cutter, put it next to the butterfly one, compared their sizes, lightly pressed the edge of the frog shape into his ball of dough.

“Frogs eat mosquitos as well as other kinds of insects: flies and gnats and such.”

“Good.”

“How come?” I smiled.

“Because mosquitos eat people alive.” His big eyes hang on me, suddenly a little scared by his own repetition of words he’d heard, “but do they really eat people?”

“Not exactly, no. The female mosquito drinks blood for her food, but only a very little bit. It is very small and it doesn’t actually eat you.”

“Oh. Yucky.”

“Yeah, I would not want to be a mosquito.”

“Me neither!” Pause. “Frogs don’t mind, right?”

“Yep.” I can see another question coming.

“Who eats frogs?”

“Snakes do. Some other animals eat frogs, too, even some people eat frogs.”

“People!?” The munchkin was simultaneously impressed and repelled. “People don’t eat frogs, do they?” he turned to his mommy. Usually, I’m an acceptable source for information, but some things require a higher authority.

The mother nodded, amused. “In France they do. Maybe in some other countries.”

“Yuck.” he relished the word. “Yucky, yucky.” He twisted his lips in contemplation, and you could see the wheels turning in the little brain behind the hazel eyes and summer freckles. “But … frogs eat the mosquitos and the mosquito eat blood from people …” he let the question dangle.

I raised my eyebrows, waited.

“It’s like a circle.” He breathed. “It is everything connected!”

From the mouths of babes.