Waking up to our shadows
War and the illusion of disconnection
Our illusions are killing us.
The illusion of being “other.”
The illusion of being disconnected from the prides and perils of our nearby and far-off neighbors. We are connected. We are the same. The horror and fear we experience in our own bodies are reflected back to us in the eyes and stories of our friends and enemies. To understand this is to begin knowing our shadows.
I recently heard an Orthodox Christian priest say, “When someone is angering you or causing you frustration, pray this: God, show me how I’m like them. Show me how we are are the same.”
Jesus said it another way, “Why do you obsess over the speck in your neighbor’s eye when you’ve got an entire log in your own?”
If you don’t find resonance with these expressions from the Christ tradition, it remains a widely held spiritual teaching that as humans, we are mirrors for one another. We learn about our shadows and our light by being careful observers of what comes alive in us as we respond to those around us.
If we respond to hate with hate, then we know something of our own nature. The same can be said of responding to fear with fear. Of responding to exclusion by being exclusive. Of responding to chaos and war by inciting more chaos and war.
The invitation is to notice. The invitation is to see that we are not so different from one another. As my mother often says, “But by the grace of God, there go I…”
I do not know much about Palestine and Israel. I do not know much about global foreign policy and war. I feel my opinion on the particulars doesn’t really matter, though I’m open to being corrected. I lament terrorism, death, and genocide. I see no justification such heinous violence. I weep for the children who are living through these nightmares and I pray for who they might be in the future, knowing these horrors are marking an entire generation for decades to come.
I’m also aware that my lack of proximity, both relationally and physically, to the people and places impacted by these events creates in me a degree of detachment. It is the privileged position of not being proximate to the pain; I can cry and pray and dream of peace without it costing me too much because my life, and lives of the people I hold close, are not on the line. I endeavor to be honest about this, as my observations are filtered through a lens of distance and relative safety.
It is strange to consider the atrocities of this war, and countless other wars, as some sort of object lesson for those of us who are not presently experiencing the felt agony of this violence. And yet, such occurrences in our global community do create space for us to ask, again and again, who are we becoming? They invite us to be honest about our own shadows so that if and when the pressures of terror, violence and war are at our doorstep, perhaps we will have just enough self-awareness to meet the onslaught of shadows with a lovingly tended, consciously cultivated light.
As the tragic events unfolding in Palestine and Israel seem to be far from over, my hope is that we will not numb or our way through it or distract ourselves from the powerlessness and pain. My hope is for us to stay awake, to stay aware, to be in prayer and meaningful conversation, and to advocate for the beginnings of peace.
Take great care, Dear Ones.
With love,
Bethaney