Pain in the World

Pain has its own rhythm.

It is a contraction and an extension, a gathering in and a stretching out to the limits of what is bearable. 

It is like being pregnant with the unknown, sometimes the shapeless, inchoate, formless abyss of meaninglessness and brutality.

Pain is sometimes constructive but these days screens the world over relay images of senseless brutality. 

It is hard to make sense of what is happening in so many war-rife places on our Earth: the violence, murder, and ruthless wiping away of people.

We must grieve. And we must stay awake.

We pray. And we feel this blood-curling pain, this terrible rhythm of hateful destruction.

Pain exists on world, collective and individual scales, stemming from the lack of all lack: the lack of compassion.

The god of retribution holds those scales in his hands, his eyes covered, his ears probably closed.

Many of us feel that we cannot directly impact the fates of those unlucky ones who are going through ferocious ordeals.

Some of us send thoughts of light into the silence.

While fanatics and madmen of all stripes rage and storm, the world belongs to the ones who come with peace in their hearts and deeds. 

If only we could come together as one, just imagine, as John Lennon did so many years ago before another fanatic cut his life short.

Every evening, if only for a few minutes, light a candle, holding thoughts of peace and intentions of love. 

Let us make light, and let us care.

Namaste.