Arahama & Mosul

Every morning when I greet the dawn, I wish that I were by the sea. As I watch light slowly unfolding the day, I can easily sense the ceaseless rhythm and energy that only waves, tides, and the vast expanses of sky can bring. Today after my morning ritual, I went inside and listened to the news. I learned of the well-planned offensive to recapture Mosul from ISIS’s relentless strangle and grasp. I thought of the ensuing, bloody tug of wars, ferocious between all sides. Each has strong beliefs and accepts that death is a necessary part of change. The more it dawned on me what lay ahead for Mosul, for all concerned, the more I felt the literal pull of the sea.

The coast is easy to get to from Sendai and does not take long. So, I heeded my intuition and went. I passed newly built homes, sadly with no grass, no trees, no gardens. I wondered what sort of mental and emotional world we have been creating since Tohoku’s life-altering events of 2011. Where is the famed Japanese connection to nature and to land? But thankfully, further on we passed newly harvested rice paddies and barns filled with tools to work our precious earth.

The frames of houses with recent altars, the temporary Buddhist temple with a priest droning prayers inside, and the erect Mother Buddha with the nearby Shinto tori gate are all as I remembered them.

Pulled by the cyclical call of the tides, I worked my way to the beach. Once there I thought about Nature and death, of war and death. I pondered whether at this stage in humanity’s eternal evolution we need to fight, to have a life-threatening challenge to pull us decisively away from noise and glut and even wisely given counsel, so as to discover our own unique voice and the ground of who we are. Are we yet consciously our core?

The waves rolled and I felt the eternal dance of earth with moon. I watched the resultant tides, smooth today, but always harboring the possibility of turbulence and destruction within. I also deeply felt the horror of misplaced idealism, coupled with tribal wars: Mosul today, the world past and tomorrow.

The water washed my feet and evoked humble prayer. May innocents survive and grow in grace. May rebuilding be selfless and generous. May we think first of others, those here and yet to come, as we work for a future without fear.

Conflict and destruction are innate in all expressions of existence. But equally so, maybe more so, are harmony and efforts to transform the past and shape a world that is fair and honors all.

Love,
Anne