Mother Of All Bombs...

Mother Of All Bombs...
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This morning the daffodils in my backyard shout “Happy Passover / Easter — whatever!”

So vibrant. So erect. So fleeting… My life, the life of my grandchildren, the life of each person in our world — how fragile, how fleeting.

The juxtaposition of last week’s headlines rattles me:

chemical warfare / missile strikes

palm sunday processions / church bombings

passover gatherings/ hate killings

And then

Mother Of All Bombs! is Mother Of Us All trembling?

Awake at 3 AM, as I walk in daylight, I look for any spark of insight, of hope.

The only glimmer I find?

When we get into any kind of “us” vs. “them,” we’re in big trouble. Eons ago, or right this minute in my neighborhood, in my country, “my” world.

Dylan’s song rings strong. I alter his words a bit –

how many deaths will it take

till we know

that killing won’t stop killing.

My life work, Oasis in the Overwhelm, aims to help each of us find a place of respite, of clarity, when life appears to be too much. I wish all of us – me, too -- deep wisdom and active compassion today. A simple Oasis Sanity Tip:

Today, any time I catch myself in “us” – “them”:

Pause

Breathe

Look for the big picture, the very big picture

Do one simple act to make that big picture a bit saner

Peaceful Passover, Easter whatever to all.

The daffodils don’t want us to ignore their beauty.

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