Of course, whether you pray is entirely not my business, but I have been thinking lately — in light of what’s going on in Ukraine — about how helpless I have felt while doom-scrolling through the news out of Ukraine, whose citizens continue a valorous fight to preserve their country against a Russian invasion. I also have friends who have friends in Ukraine right now, and they’ve shared their texts and photos and one recorded phone conversation that makes everything even more real.
So I’ve prayed. I know. If you’re not a believer, that can seem like a fruitless gesture. I do not remember the last time I got down on my knees and folded my hands. Mine is more of a meditation while I’m doing something else, kind of checking in with my version of God. I have to admit that in addition to the things for which I regularly pray, Ukraine is high on the list, and I find myself feeling guilty if I step away from social media for too long (which is weird and a little bit narcissistic — or maybe it’s a lot narcissistic).
I know a lot of you are doom-scrolling along with me, and it seems almost precious to ask (given what people are coping with in Ukraine) but: How are you doing?
Yesterday marked the beginning of 40 days of Lent, you might have seen some of us walking around with ashes on our head, the sign of a sinner. Three things we are asked to do during this time. Prayer, Fast, and Almsgiving.
Myself, and a few others will be attempting to give seeds of Peace to our community.
We will be joining Brian Kavanugh of the Harford Cathoilc Worker in his ongoing 22 year anti-war vigil this Friday March 4th (and the other Fridays of Lent), at the Ribicoff Federal Building, 450 Main Street, Hartford, at 11:30 am to 12:30 pm. Holding our 15ft NO MORE WARS FOR PROFIT banner.
I pray every night. That being said, this news junkie is having a hard time with the invasion news. Going thru Covid, my brother’s cancer and the loss of my beloved dog, has all weighed so heavily on me. My heart aches for Ukraine too.
Forgive me if I’m being presumptuous but grief being a big part of what we’re feeling, I thought I’d share this. It’s a poem read at the funeral of a neighbor that resonated with me. While it’s about the loss of a specific individual it’s about what we might do with our feelings at times of grief and loss. It’s really not anything we don’t know, it’s more of a reminder. I thought it was applicable and I hope helpful.
“poem by Rabbi Allen S. Maller
When I die
If you need to weep
Cry for someone
Walking the street beside you.
You can love me most by letting
Hands touch hands, and
Souls touch souls.
You can love me most by
Sharing your love
And multiplying your acts of kindness.
You can love me most by
Letting me live in your eyes
And not on your mind.
And when you say prayers for me
Remember
Love doesnt die
People do.
So when all thats left of me is love
Give me away.”
Easier said than done, I know but it helped me focus and hang on to a little hope. Take care.
This crisis surely puts a lot of things in my life into perspective, i.e. I've noticed that I've grown quieter and complain less about daily irritations like when I see people drive the wrong way on our one-way street. Maybe I've got it backwards, but my heart often hurts more over the crisis abroad than it does over careless drivers here. I've lived in this house more than 20 years and watched that vehicular law-breaking over and over in front of my house BUT I've also visited Ukraine's part of the world: Krakow, Poland and nearby Auschwitz (horrifying); Budapest, Hungary; and Prague, in the Czech Republic. Those countries, as well as Ukraine, are on my heart every day now, as well as the drivers on my street. We are one humanity.
I'm horrified by what is going on in Ukraine and that the rest of the world can't figure out a way to stop the madman and his army. The feeling of helplessness to stop such evil is indescribable. I'm also very concerned about the possibility of nuclear war and the release of radioactive material from the currently burning nuclear power plant. It's times like this, especially, I wish my kids and family didn't live so far away.
"Never again" seems like a meaningless phrase. What does it mean if we can't/don't stop it when it happens? I spent part of the day with my friends who were victimized by Putin in another country, and we talked about what happened then and what's going on now. This madman has caused terrible harm in one country after another. I hope the world finds a way to stop him and others like him.
I’m first generation American on my mom’s side. She was born in Estonia. I grew up with Latvians, Lithuanians, Poles, Ukrainians. A few years ago we went to Estonia, being the first ones in the family to visit since my grandparents and their children landed at Ellis Island in the twenties. I grew up around the food, the language, the stories but I’ve never really worn the identity on my sleeve. I don’t do that as an American either. I was taught that a little nationalism goes a long way and that tempering it was a good and wise thing to do. I like to think of myself as a “one worlder” but as I find myself angry, offended and scared I struggle to figure out the root of those feelings. Empathy for Ukraine? Fear for the old country? Hatred for Putin? Or maybe that it makes me even more painfully aware of the bubble of privilege I live in.
I know, first world whining. It’s not like I need to back away from the ledge although I do fear for people that feel that way. There’s donations, vigils, public expressions of support to counter and blunt the pro-Putinists, reaching out to people feeling increasingly isolated by events but it sure feels like navigating all this is like trying to drive a car on ice.
That's an excellent analogy. I don't want to engaged in performative anguish ("What about the CHILdren...") and would love to get my mind around some kind of effective way to help.
Struggling to sleep this week. Adding specific prayer for Ukraine in my morning meditation, donating, spreading word to friends on how to donate/contact their legislators, amplifying pro-Ukrainian pro-democracy voices on social. Feeling more determined than ever to fight for democracy.
Same. Today's news was really hard to read (I want a quick victory for the Ukrainians) but if they're in it for the long haul, well...so am I. I just wish I knew what to do.
God whispers into the deep silence of a willing heart not often in words, but in gentle sways of thought and persuasive nudges to love.
That still, small voice.
Susan,
Yesterday marked the beginning of 40 days of Lent, you might have seen some of us walking around with ashes on our head, the sign of a sinner. Three things we are asked to do during this time. Prayer, Fast, and Almsgiving.
Myself, and a few others will be attempting to give seeds of Peace to our community.
We will be joining Brian Kavanugh of the Harford Cathoilc Worker in his ongoing 22 year anti-war vigil this Friday March 4th (and the other Fridays of Lent), at the Ribicoff Federal Building, 450 Main Street, Hartford, at 11:30 am to 12:30 pm. Holding our 15ft NO MORE WARS FOR PROFIT banner.
Hey!! You asked!! Have a good rest of the week.
Thank you.
Each Friday till April 15th that is!
I pray every night. That being said, this news junkie is having a hard time with the invasion news. Going thru Covid, my brother’s cancer and the loss of my beloved dog, has all weighed so heavily on me. My heart aches for Ukraine too.
If I was nearby, I'd give you a hug. This is all so hard.
Joan,
Forgive me if I’m being presumptuous but grief being a big part of what we’re feeling, I thought I’d share this. It’s a poem read at the funeral of a neighbor that resonated with me. While it’s about the loss of a specific individual it’s about what we might do with our feelings at times of grief and loss. It’s really not anything we don’t know, it’s more of a reminder. I thought it was applicable and I hope helpful.
“poem by Rabbi Allen S. Maller
When I die
If you need to weep
Cry for someone
Walking the street beside you.
You can love me most by letting
Hands touch hands, and
Souls touch souls.
You can love me most by
Sharing your love
And multiplying your acts of kindness.
You can love me most by
Letting me live in your eyes
And not on your mind.
And when you say prayers for me
Remember
Love doesnt die
People do.
So when all thats left of me is love
Give me away.”
Easier said than done, I know but it helped me focus and hang on to a little hope. Take care.
Oh!
Thanks Paul.
This crisis surely puts a lot of things in my life into perspective, i.e. I've noticed that I've grown quieter and complain less about daily irritations like when I see people drive the wrong way on our one-way street. Maybe I've got it backwards, but my heart often hurts more over the crisis abroad than it does over careless drivers here. I've lived in this house more than 20 years and watched that vehicular law-breaking over and over in front of my house BUT I've also visited Ukraine's part of the world: Krakow, Poland and nearby Auschwitz (horrifying); Budapest, Hungary; and Prague, in the Czech Republic. Those countries, as well as Ukraine, are on my heart every day now, as well as the drivers on my street. We are one humanity.
I'm horrified by what is going on in Ukraine and that the rest of the world can't figure out a way to stop the madman and his army. The feeling of helplessness to stop such evil is indescribable. I'm also very concerned about the possibility of nuclear war and the release of radioactive material from the currently burning nuclear power plant. It's times like this, especially, I wish my kids and family didn't live so far away.
"Never again" seems like a meaningless phrase. What does it mean if we can't/don't stop it when it happens? I spent part of the day with my friends who were victimized by Putin in another country, and we talked about what happened then and what's going on now. This madman has caused terrible harm in one country after another. I hope the world finds a way to stop him and others like him.
I’m first generation American on my mom’s side. She was born in Estonia. I grew up with Latvians, Lithuanians, Poles, Ukrainians. A few years ago we went to Estonia, being the first ones in the family to visit since my grandparents and their children landed at Ellis Island in the twenties. I grew up around the food, the language, the stories but I’ve never really worn the identity on my sleeve. I don’t do that as an American either. I was taught that a little nationalism goes a long way and that tempering it was a good and wise thing to do. I like to think of myself as a “one worlder” but as I find myself angry, offended and scared I struggle to figure out the root of those feelings. Empathy for Ukraine? Fear for the old country? Hatred for Putin? Or maybe that it makes me even more painfully aware of the bubble of privilege I live in.
I know, first world whining. It’s not like I need to back away from the ledge although I do fear for people that feel that way. There’s donations, vigils, public expressions of support to counter and blunt the pro-Putinists, reaching out to people feeling increasingly isolated by events but it sure feels like navigating all this is like trying to drive a car on ice.
That's an excellent analogy. I don't want to engaged in performative anguish ("What about the CHILdren...") and would love to get my mind around some kind of effective way to help.
Struggling to sleep this week. Adding specific prayer for Ukraine in my morning meditation, donating, spreading word to friends on how to donate/contact their legislators, amplifying pro-Ukrainian pro-democracy voices on social. Feeling more determined than ever to fight for democracy.
Same. Today's news was really hard to read (I want a quick victory for the Ukrainians) but if they're in it for the long haul, well...so am I. I just wish I knew what to do.
https://www.obama.org/updates/help-ukraine/?fbclid=IwAR3LIUGdTKDOmHwnn_Ja9YFJzBn6IIdS30qixi00p-KMHXg7I3x7T3T8Nao
Thank you for posting this.