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  • Writer's pictureDavid Carlson

716 With your simple thread of life, what kind of world will you be weaving today?

Day 716 Wednesday, March 2, 2022

With your simple thread of life,

what kind of world

will you be weaving today?


Don’t abandon

the way it makes you feel,

the way it breaks your heart

to know

that though the stars

are out tonight

missiles also dot the sky,

bombs rain down and punch the earth,

exploding lives,

killing innocence,

fracturing faith.

All for land

that can’t be owned,

for debts

that can’t be paid,

for pain

that won’t be named,

for power

that will never be enough

to satiate the fallow sense

of emptiness inside.

Stay very close

to this kind of pain,

it’s supposed to be unbearable,

overwhelming, horrifying.

It’s supposed to stop you in your tracks.

It’s supposed to make you feel

sick to your soul.

To give in

to this kind of rupture

is to finally

give yourself,

honestly over,

to how we are lost,

estranged from the earth,

orphaned from ourselves

and hostile towards the way

that we belong to each other.


give up

your want

for all the comfortable,

familiar things.

Put down your tea,

cork the wine,

turn off the movies,

put away the games,

don’t even try

to move or

meditate it away.


scream and cry,

shake your fists in the air,

let your heart fracture,

as a baby is born

in a bomb shelter

rocketed by the sounds

of overgrown hate

battering the landscape outside,

and her mother’s voice singing,

hoping that there

is still

something to hope for.

Envision each one

who is existing

beneath the fire-strewn sky,

each one who is fighting, fleeing

or falling down dead.

Put their pictures up

on your kitchen wall

and place them into your heart,

when you take down a cup,

when you turn on the faucet,

when you feed your family,

when you talk to your friend

on the phone

while your hands wash

the dirty dishes.

Take in their interrupted lives,

their disorientation,

their bloodied looks of betrayal,

the weight of what it is

they are being asked to do.

Feel the fear,

the disgust and despair.

Feel the fabric of humanity rip.

Let it bring you to your knees,

to the fullness of your senses,

even to the dark impulse

that wants to separate you

from the wellspring

of your love.

Then lay your head down

in the soft of your pillow,

give thanks

for that simple, soft pillow,

and hand all of it over

to your dream keeper.

Pray for her

to take it in

to make it whole,

to spin every last fiber

into a thread of wisdom

that will wake you up in the morning,

that will greet your reflection

in the mirror with love,

that will make your tea and pet the dog,

that will bring you to your meditation cushion

where you can invite the devastated into your heart,

the Ukrainians, the Russians,

and all of the others

the children, the mothers,

the fathers, the brothers,

the oppressors and the oppressed

here to the fullness your breast

may they feel the touch of your simple kindness

in the midst of this mess.

One stitch at a time,

we will,

mend the fabric.

One gesture of gentleness

when your child rebels,

one moment of listening

when you don’t agree,

one look of welcoming

to the man on the corner

as you offer a little something

so that he may eat today

and remember how he too,

is a treasure of life.

One word of easy praise to the barista,

one softening when the tensions

of ideas pull tight,

one breath of patience

that can become a moment of prayer

when you are running late

and the traffic stands still.

Each and every one of us,

and all of us together,

holding the complexities of truth,

the courage of our hearts,

the threads of our wisdom,

and each moment we are given,

we sew, we stich, we weave,

we patch, we darn, we mend,

we pray, we love, and we live

the fabric of humanity into

the great tapestry of life itself.

With your simple thread of life,

what kind of world

will you be weaving today?

- By Meg McCraken

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