A time for healing, regeneration and rebirth

 

With the year 2020 unfolding, many of us have already started to doubt the new decade will be better than the past one or bring peace and healing to the world.

Some might even say the world is in such a state of agitation and upheaval that it is sending tremors into our planet Earth, shaking it down to its core. Fires, floods, volcanoes, diseases, conflict, political and social unrest, are affecting every part of the world. There seems to be no place to escape to and no path leading us out of this darkness and mayhem.

We forget though that all these occurrences, be they natural or man-made, existed millions of years ago, indeed since the beginning of Creation. You only need to read history books and let them enlighten you on the dark history of our humanity. The advanced technology and instantaneous media reports in this day and age are keeping us informed and connected, but they are also instilling in us a deep sense of fear and panic.        

Many mystics and thinkers believe that the world is going through massive transformation and is vibrating at a level never witnessed before because of the shift in the Universal Consciousness. We have reached a point of no return. We either choose to ride this surge and go against the wishes of a few but reach liberation and enlightenment, or we stay where we are and choose fear instead and take our planet with us to the abyss.

I believe the only path that will lead us there safely is unconditional love and compassion towards ourselves, each other and our mother Earth. We can’t heal our planet if we are not healed ourselves.

Undoubtedly, the events of the past few weeks have left many of us shaken and distraught in Australia. The bushfires are raging all over the country at an unfathomable speed and tenacity leaving us all startled and shocked, questioning what went wrong and how did we fail so terribly to read the signs.

The devastation and destruction in the areas affected by the fires is alarming, and the loss of lives, homes, forest and wildlife is tragic and heartbreaking.

Amid this chaos and confusion, we see images of bravery, compassion, kindness and generosity that lift our spirits, reassure our hearts and restore our faith in humanity. Strangers are rushing to lend a hand, opening their arms, their homes and their hearts to those fleeing their homes, offering help and donating generously everything they can. It is the human spirit at its best, purest and most innate form. 

On the other side of the world, the corona virus is another trigger for fear in a few communities at the moment; yet another manifestation of our fears. Wars and conflict are tearing nations apart, displacing people and causing starvation and death for millions of humans. We live in an anxious, deeply troubled and fractured world.

Between the pain and suffering caused by natural disasters and those inflicted by humans on humans, we stand speechless and baffled by the current state of affairs. The UN Security Council warns that the number of hungry people living in conflict zones is rising exponentially, with many countries recording crisis or emergency levels of food insecurity in at least a quarter of their people. 

Within nations, tension and unrest are rising because people have lost faith in their corrupt governments and are demanding change. Protests in countries like Iraq, mounting to revolutions, have claimed the lives of hundreds of innocent civilians. People are sick of being lied to and sick of suffering when a small ruling elite, unworthy and unqualified, enjoys the riches of their nations leaving them lacking basic needs.     

It is highly unlikely the situation in Iraq will calm down soon. Indeed, the opposite is happening. The revolutionary movement that was sparked by people’s desperation is likely to claim more lives since the puppet government ruling it has no vision for the country or interest in improving conditions for the population. With too many foreign powers pulling the strings in this show, Iraq would be fortunate if it does not become a battlefield for regional powers to settle their scores. The revolution and determination of the Iraqi population to continue their fight for freedom is the only path to salvation for Iraq, and I sincerely hope my motherland, the land of first civilisations, survives this challenge yet again. 

Mystified by the current state of affairs, my vision is blurred, and my faith in our humanity is tested. I grieve for my adoptive country as it witnesses such disasters unleashed by unforeseen forces of Nature and mourn for my motherland who is bleeding to death because of human greed and selfishness. 

Is there any hope for the future? Will we awaken one day to see a peaceful and harmonious world? Or, this is just a dream, as some say. I don’t know about you, but I am a dreamer and like to think the world my children and grandchildren will live in will be better than today’s world. I see the future dazzlingly bright and wild with opportunity where the world is a more peaceful and harmonious place led by compassionate, kind, caring, empathic and loving humans. 

When the dark grey clouds blacken my skies, I am always reminded of the transient nature of all things, including my being. We are here this moment but not the next and so are the gloomy clouds. A fleeting memory is soon replaced with another one, brighter, happier and more promising, for as the tides go up, they also come down. If there is one lesson l learned in my life that is the ever changing, perpetually fluctuating and ephemeral nature of our existence. 

Nothing is permanent and eternal except the spirit within and that spirit cannot see or be other than love, peace and bliss.  

As I ponder on the challenges and tribulations we are faced with now, a hazy, distant memory resurfaces in my mind making my whole body shudder at its intensity, severity and darkness. Yet, that same bitter, solemn memory gives me hope and faith in our humanity.

It was over 30 years ago, in late 1990, during the dreadful times of the Gulf War. Iraq was fighting against the US and Allied Forces who rushed to the distressed calls of Saudi Arabia and Kuwait after Saddam Hussain invaded Kuwait. 

At the time, I was living with my ex-husband in Kirkuk, a city, rich in oil, in northern Iraq, which made it attractive to various groups and powers, internal and external. My newly born son was only a few weeks old. Fatigued and worn out from lack of sleep, I was barely coping with the gruelling responsibilities of motherhood, let alone the endless everyday domestic chores.  

The country was fighting yet another senseless war of Saddam’s, whose wars seemed never to end. A nation weary of war, mourning the millions of young lives lost, including my much loved and adored maternal uncle who left five young children behind. Just embarking on its long journey of healing and recovery from the economic, social and psychological traumas of the preceding war with Iran, Iraq was in no shape ready for another conflict. The war with Iran had lasted eight long years only coming to an end in late 1988.

Three of my brothers who had completed their university degrees were shipped to the war. Serving in the military was compulsory. Two of them were stationed in army bases inside the country protecting important government centres from any potential attacks by the Coalition Forces. The third was positioned on the border with Saudi Arabia and Kuwait, in the battle field, witnessing closely the harsh reality of yet another devastating war unfolding. 

Unlike the war with Iran, in which all civilians were targets and had to run for their lives whenever the sirens sounded, the fight with the Allied Forces was swift and quick with the designated government targets precisely hit and dismantled. The ground battle was fought on the southern borders and within Kuwait itself where the Iraqi Army had set its base after invading it at Saddam’s orders.

As you can see my exhaustion was compounded by my anxiety, stress and worry about my brothers and their safety. Our anguish and distress over my brother in the battlefield had grown into an overwhelming sense of hopelessness and despair, as we had not heard from him for over six months and had feared gravely for his life.   

Gradually, as the Iraqi Army in the frontier started to wither, the civilian military units began earnestly chasing and deploying anyone who could fight. My other two soldier brothers were serving in military bases inside cities and were able to take some relief leave every now and then. Each soldier enjoyed a relief week every couple of months to visit their family. My parents and siblings were living in Erbil at the time, a town about an hour’s drive from Kirkuk where I lived. It was quite unexpected and such a pleasant surprise when they both showed up at my door one day while on leave to see me and my baby. My son was the first grandchild to be born in the family, a breath of fresh air and delight bringing hope to the whole family given the circumstances at the time.

Around the same time, two of my ex-brothers in law, who were also serving in the Army in different locations, were in town on relief. The four men initially came for a short visit but ended up staying for a lot longer.  

The conditions had deteriorated immensely by then, and Saddam’s Army was losing on all fronts, even the fight against its people. With little news getting to us, rumours spread and intense fear took over the population. With Saddam’s republican army weakening, the Shiite clans rebelled in the south while in the north the Kurdish uprising was brewing. We were stuck in between.

It was an extremely difficult decision we had to make collectively, all six of us. After much deliberation, my ex and I were not going to let our brothers go back to their military bases because we knew they would not come back alive.

For weeks the four men were hiding in my house, frightened of being seen by anyone including neighbours. My attention had to be divided between my baby and them. Sleep-deprived, drained and depressed, I was literally running out of steam physically, mentally and psychologically. My anxiety and exhaustion levels had hit the roof, leaving me constantly agitated, sad and worried. Yet, I had to make a heroic effort to keep serving the family with a smile. I had to maintain a brave heart and keep my chin up so the brothers don’t notice. God knows they were downhearted and disconsolate enough and didn’t need me to dampen the mood any further.

We had to keep our eyes and ears open the whole time. Every time we heard the local patrol pass by, our hearts sank deep down into our chests. We knew the price we would pay if we were caught. With the country in such a state of anarchy and disarray, you would not stand a chance if you were caught. The soldiers had orders to shoot any deserters and their accomplices.

Soon after that and out of desperation, the search raids escalated and took a more aggressive and confrontational form. The soldiers started knocking on doors and checking every house in the city.

A knock on our door one afternoon made us all freeze. Frantically moving from one room to another, the four men did not know where or how to hide. With the soldiers outside growing impatient and their shouts getting louder, my baby’s screams intensify, and my heart starts pulsating so violently I could feel my whole body vibrating with its beats.

Nervous, terrified and panic-stricken, I felt nauseous and sick to my stomach, not knowing what to do or where to go. As I pause to process what is happening, the soldiers’ voices grow louder and the hammering on the door harsher, piercing my ears. I clench my baby firmly to my chest, try to soothe him down while walking out to open the door.

My mind is racing, my heart is pounding, and the world is spinning like a revolving door around me. Powerless, I feel like weeping, just collapsing on the floor and weeping, sinking deep into the ground and disappearing off the face of the earth. Oh, God, can you just let this earth open up right now and swallow me sparing me and my baby the painful moments that will follow? Desperately pleading and asking the Lord for a miracle.

“Oh, Lord, please let the earth open now and bury me with my child just as we are, tightly huddled together.”

Reluctantly, I open the door and face my destiny.

A sergeant with his soldiers are standing there looking at me with anticipation, eyes wide open with stern looks sending shivers in my spine. Like a man on a mission, he delivers his message with determination and vigilance:  

“Sorry to disturb you, sister, but we are looking for army deserters? Do you have any?”

Sensing the tension in the air, my baby’s cries start to build up and unsettle me, setting me on fire. Those who know me closely can attest to the fact that honesty – telling the truth no matter what, is my weakest trait. I can’t lie even if it cost me my life, but what happened then and there made me question myself and wonder if I knew me well enough, but I guess it is the survival instinct in us humans.   

A firm, resolute voice emanated from deep inside me, so foreign and unfamiliar it felt like it was coming from outside. Seemingly, the fear and horror inside me had taken another form, devilish and uncompromising.

“How dare you ask me such questions brother when all of our men are out there fighting for this country? My brother is in the desert risking his life for you and us. God knows if he is alive or dead for we have not heard from him for months.”

Not sure who or what it was, but the voice definitely took me by surprise. The words kept gushing out of my mouth as if a volcano had just erupted. Screaming, howling and roaring like a wounded lion, I struggle to hold myself together. Then with a lower voice and sombre tearful eyes, I implore them to leave us alone:

“Why can’t you just leave us alone? God knows we have suffered enough already. Don’t you see brother? I am exhausted and heartbroken. I have not had sleep for weeks tending to my new born baby who can’t settle or stop crying. Between him, the war and my anguish over my missing brother, I am going insane, trying to stay strong but deep inside burning, screaming for deliverance.

Why are you tormenting us? Why wouldn’t you just leave us alone to rot in our misery? God knows we have had enough of heartache and suffering, man.”

By then, I had succumbed to the reality that this was the last moment of my life, so I didn’t care anymore. His reaction though was beyond my comprehension. I had expected to be dragged along the street with my child and executed in front of everyone, but what happened was far from that.

Astonished and in utter disbelief, I stood there watching him step back, look at me with his wide hazel eyes sympathetically and say, while gesturing his soldiers to move back, “I am sorry, sister. We apologise for your pain. We will leave you in peace.”

For a moment time had stopped. The whole world came to a standstill around me.

Paralysed, unable to move, I stood there for few minutes breathing a sigh of relief but also processing what had just happened. Did this just happen? Was that even possible?

For a man programmed to kill, this was against his whole life’s mission and training. I couldn’t believe my eyes. In that brief moment, this man was stripped of all his past conditioning and was a mere human, not a killing machine. My eyes had penetrated through his eyes, reaching deep down to his soul and awakening the innocence and light that was buried beneath.  

It was a miracle for him to see me but not as a physical form or a shadowy figure to shoot at, rather a wounded soul crying out for help out of desperation. Eye to eye, soul to soul, a connection beyond time and place, beyond this visible world. 

The chilling emotions and stillness of that distant moment bring tears to my eyes and make my whole body shiver every time I recall it. I send blessings and love to the unknown man who spared my life, my baby’s and brothers’ lives.

I have read and heard about many cases like this, where unexpected, random acts of kindness, altruism and just pure humanity were delivered at the hands of murderers. So, how could I not have faith in us, in our humanity?

William Shakespeare said once that ‘the eyes are the window to the soul’. Throughout the Bible there are verses about the eyes being the light of the body and the connection to the soul. Paulo Coelho describes them as the mirror of the soul that reflects what is hidden underneath.

For our family, this incident was a moment in history that will never be forgotten. In fact, one of my two brothers who was at the receiving end of this miracle told my son about it years ago as he was approaching adulthood.

Inspired by the story, my son wrote some beautiful lyrics and recorded the song with one of his friends. You can check out their song ‘Once upon a time in Iraq’ on this link.

https://soundcloud.com/thepariahcollective

No wonder then my faith in humanity remains as strong as ever and is never shaken for I have seen the human spirit at its best. We see miracles happen every minute, yet we call them coincidences. ‘A Course in Miracles’ explains miracles as natural signs of forgiveness. It is the privilege of the forgiven to forgive.

As the Course states:

“Miracles reawaken the awareness that the spirit, not the body, is the altar of truth. This is the recognition that leads to the healing power of the miracle.” 

When we recognise that our spirits are our true selves, not our bodies, we rediscover the power of miracles, and only then they cease to be ‘incidents’, rather the norm in our daily lives.

As I write these last paragraphs, the fires seem to have eased in many regions in Australia. The fires may have been extinguished, but the journey of recovery and healing continues. It is not an easy or short one surely, but the human spirit is capable of surviving it through love, forgiveness and compassion.

A miracle is a true expression of love extended from us to ourselves, each other and to our planet.  

The world has never been in such a crucial and urgent need for miracles and healing. Many scholars and mystics believe we are living in precarious times threatening our whole existence, yet these times are marked with a profound shift in awareness, growth and spiritual awakening.

From natural disasters to conflict to depletion of our natural resources and deterioration of our environment, the list of threats is rather long, and the damage to our planet may be irreparable. We are challenged to think differently and, more importantly, to reach deep down into our consciousness for wisdom, inspiration and inner guidance. We have the right tools at the tips of our fingers, yet we choose to overlook these, though they were used by our ancestors thousands of years ago.

We need to cultivate this awareness, the innate wisdom we were born with. We need to heed the signs our ancestors and our planet are sending us.

Otherwise, the calamities may not stop but continue, taking different forms of expulsion as our Earth goes through the shaking and cleansing needed for its healing. Likewise, the tension and turmoil in the world triggered by our unsettled minds and ever desiring egos may not ease if we don’t go through the process of internal elimination and purification ourselves. We need to let go of fear and embrace life in all of its forms.

Our mother Earth is crying out for healing, but its healing is intertwined and enmeshed with our own healing as is the healing of all Creation. We share its wounds and its pain. We share its veins and its roots.

We need to nurture our souls and let them shine instead of our minds and egos. We must choose love for it is the only path to the light.

We need to recognise the sacredness and innocence of our spirits, recognise love as our inherent nature and our spiritual DNA. Only then we can taste the sweetness of the peace and stillness within and bring peace and healing to our world.    

Footnote:

A Course in Miracles is a 1976 book by Helen Schucman. It is a curriculum for those seeking to achieve spiritual transformation. The underlying premise is that the greatest “miracle” is the act of simply gaining a full “awareness of love’s presence” in one’s own life.

Helen Cohn Schucman was an American clinical psychologist and research psychologist. She was a professor of medical psychology at Columbia University in New York from 1958 until her retirement in 1976.