I read the news and come to these words by Thich Nhat Hahn:
This, my dear, is the greatest challenge to being alive: to witness injustice in the world and not allow it to consume our light.
And this poem by Thich Nhat Hanh:
I hold my face in my two hands.
No, I am not crying.
I hold my face in my two hands
to keep the loneliness warm—
two hands protecting,
two hands nourishing,
two hands preventing
my soul from leaving me
in anger.
I wake excited because I have my grandson this week, and then I read Heather Cox Richardson, and learn more of the news, and I feel the punch.
Trump didn’t put his hand on the Bibles when he took the oath of office, Why would he? He wants to be viewed as God, and here we are in shock.
I’ve lived 75 years. I never expected this.
And then, for comfort, we turn to our noble, furred friends.
The news – what can I say, but poetry comforts me in every way.
Yesterday a friend introduced me to this poem, “Above the Paradox Valley”. May it allow stillness to open the wisdom in the spirit of your dance.
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