“How do we apologize to the plants, the oceans, the air? The Mexicans?”
Asked by a dear friend who came to this country decades ago, wearing skin that makes her a target to some—and now more than ever.
I don’t know the answer.
I can say a mantra learned from the Hawaiian healing tradition of ho’opono pono. I take full responsibility. Please forgive me. I love you. Thank you.
Everything that comes up to confront me is a part of me already, says this tradition. So I take responsibility for it all.
With this mantra comes a sense of settling, and sometimes a bit of clarity. Perhaps an idea arises that may or may not by Divinely inspired: I will join the local Amnesty International group and write letters on behalf of prisoners of conscience. I will volunteer with Exodus Refugee, which works to resettle displaced people in my community. I will look up what Charles Eisenstein and Starhawk have to say.
Or sometimes it’s an idea like: I will take my dog to the park and reconnect to trees and earth and sky.
Or simply: I will sit and feel into my body. I will allow my heart to be heard.
I will take this deep breath in, and let it go, and know that no one can steal my peace from me, because I make it myself and receive it as I ask.
Yes, all of these and more. And I still don’t know the answer.