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O.H.M. #6 - Circle of Life by Jeff Foster

By Charlene Lowe

THU JUN 04, 2020

O.H.M. is the acronym for Overtures Honoring Mindfulness, a collection of the written word that speaks to my heart, mind & soul. This is a timeless piece of prose from "Falling In Love with Where You Are" written by Jeff Foster, published in 2013.

THE CIRCLE OF LIFE

All over the world, and in the news every day, people killing people. People on one ‘side’ killing people on the other ‘side’. Each ‘side’ claiming that they are right. Each ‘side’ holding onto ancient pain, each ‘side’ unwilling be the first to let go, coming up with all the reasons in the world why they can't and won't. A tragic tale as old as humanity itself.

When will we wake up to the obvious fact that we are all the same Consciousness in disguise? That no matter who we think we are, no matter how we appear, beyond our stories and histories, our religions, our nationalities, our beliefs, the color of our skin, our heavy pasts and uncertain futures, we are all expressions of the One life? That in truth there are no Israelis or Palestinians, Jews or Christians, Muslims or Buddhists, atheists or agnostics, Republicans or Democrats, gurus or disciples, that those images can never define us. That who we truly are at the most fundamental level is indefinable, mysterious, never fixed or separate, never identified with an image, just as the vast ocean can never be defined by its waves.

Consciousness has no religion, and no nationality. It gives birth to Palestinians and Israelis, Iraqis and Americans, light and dark, the yin and yang of the ever-changing dream world.

As consciousness itself, when we hurt each other, we are only hurting our own brothers and sisters, our own kin, waves of ourselves. We are only fighting reflections of our original Face. We are only killing the ones we love, ancient friends from long ago.

Outer war has never lead to inner peace. How much more bloodshed? How much more pain? How many more men, women and children must disappear into infinity before we wake up?

That bleeding child is my own. The circle of life takes no 'sides'.