I showed up to class yesterday and felt the white elephant in the room, a blanket that seemed to lay heavy on us all. I have two students in the class who are part of the LGBT community and they looked devastated. I proceeded with curriculum, making a quick adjustment to the evening to allow for a solid 30 minutes of discussion before we closed for the night. I love my students with a ferocity that often surprises me, and often when something like the shooting in Orlando happens, I think...that could have been one of mine...one of mine, it is one of mine--this has affected us all. In our classroom conversation I asked the question, how many of you were angry? All but two of my seventeen raised their hands. How many of you were sad? All of them raised their hands. Then, the question that always seems to be asked in return? What can we do?
Hmmm, we contemplated and discussed that natural, beautiful impulse of wanting to do something to relieve the suffering we see. Here was my reply--take care of those seeds of anger and sadness within yourself, for they are a taste of what caused the gunman to shoot.
I came home from school, and as is my nature, I went to the written word for comfort. I hope this provides nourishment....
Orlando Nightclub
©June 14, 2016 Karla Johnston, InnerConstellation.com
©June 14, 2016 Karla Johnston, InnerConstellation.com
Watching events unfold, I feel my Avenging Angel sprout
wings,
Hello, my anger…my sadness.
I threaten flight.
Then, I’m not sure how, but a sudden realization, a blessing is bestowed—
righteous anger is a taste of what caused such tremendous suffering.
Seeds of anger and intolerance when watered will grow.
Is this what happened to the gunman?
What can I do for those suffering?
Take care of my unwholesome seeds,
listen to my Dirty Angels—they show me what needs care,
practice looking at myself and others
with love and understanding.
I see you, our seeds, and practice another way—taking refuge:
in stillness,
deep listening,
and transformation.
Hello, my anger…my sadness.
I threaten flight.
Then, I’m not sure how, but a sudden realization, a blessing is bestowed—
righteous anger is a taste of what caused such tremendous suffering.
Seeds of anger and intolerance when watered will grow.
Is this what happened to the gunman?
What can I do for those suffering?
Take care of my unwholesome seeds,
listen to my Dirty Angels—they show me what needs care,
practice looking at myself and others
with love and understanding.
I see you, our seeds, and practice another way—taking refuge:
in stillness,
deep listening,
and transformation.
In closing, here is a mantra that I found beautiful and healing. May you enjoy the voice of an angel, Ajeet Kaur, who sings a song to turn our minds toward peace and ease of rest. It's sung before sleep, or for the final sleep of dying: Antajaamee
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