On days like this,
when I feel tiny and naked in the face of all that is broken, like watching a car crash in slow motion.
On days like this,
when whatever I do is never enough, while the waves of life wash over my head and the sound of my voice is drowned by the surf.
On days like this,
I sometimes remember how deeply I love, and that sharing this truly matters.
Last month, I met a woman who works with people and their families in their last days of life, and she told me this:
“When somebody dies, we stop everything else that seemed so important only moments ago, to share how much that person meant to us and why we loved them. We wait to do the most precious, caring act of our lives when they’re no longer able to hear us.”
Why do we wait until someone dies to tell them, in great detail, why we love them?
So on days like this,
I climb into the ancient mulberry tree in a garden now shared by three generations (a tree I climbed as a 6 year old when this garden belonged to my uncle - a tree which fell down in a storm a decade ago but decided to live on, now gently reclining).
And on days like this, I write a letter to someone I love, telling them why I love them.
Not because they are about to die, but because they are still alive enough to drink it in like a hot cup of tea.
And because on days like this, it reminds me, too, that no moment in time is ever wasted or empty when we allow ourselves to love and share so deeply and fully.
Because it’s at times like these,
when our eyes see ever-more clearly all the things which once went unnoticed through fogs of normalcy and numbness.
And it’s at times like these,
when our minds still scramble to uncover new and ancient ways of being which express the beauty alive in our hearts.
It’s at times like these,
that it becomes a radical act of peace to tell someone why you love them.
If there is to be peace in the world,
There must be peace in the nations.
If there is to be peace in the nations,
There must be peace in the cities.
If there is to be peace in the cities,
There must be peace between neighbours.
If there is to be peace between neighbours,
There must be peace in the home.
If there is to be peace in the home,
There must be peace in the heart.
(attributed to Lao Tse, though the true author remains sweetly unknown)
Let’s do the small things together…
It’s never enough on its own, but each coming together to soften the heart and open the mind returns us to life a little more creative, a little more awake, a little more willing to stand up for what we love. Until together, each of us doing our best creates a sea-change we could never have imagined whist believing we were doing it all alone.
June 2nd-6th: daily meditations on Sangha Live
Join me for a week of daily meditations, dharma teachings and interactive questions and responses, exploring the theme of the body as a doorway to love. By relating to the elements of the body, we will cultivate a presence that is grounded, awake, open, relaxed and spacious, which liberates the heart and mind to be more receptive and responsive to love. Sessions are freely offered by dana and will be live from 7-8am UK time Monday to Friday, with replays available immediately afterwards if you have registered in advance. Register here.
September 29th - October 5th: residential retreat in France
Join me for week of yoga, meditation, nature immersion, silence, community, wisdom teachings, emotional healing, mystical communion.. and letters of love. In my experience, there is nothing that catalyses healing and transformation more deeply and safely than going on retreat. Treat yourself to this precious space and time of remembering how deeply you love and how profoundly you are loved. More information here.
I love this post and it rings so true....thankyou 🙏
You are one of the most loving-to-all people I’ve met. Glorious message today thank you. With my love to you.