We hurt ourselves then, today, and we’ll do it tomorrow.

Do we still feel? Can we focus on the pain… allow it to wash over us… wash us clean and invite us into a new depth of healing and reality?

This image was my view into the night, softly illuminated by candlelight. I couldn’t close my eyes, because all I could see were images of children in Ghazza (Gaza): starving, maimed, unalive. So, I held the tiny flicker of light nearly swallowed by darkness in my gaze, praying some of that light would somehow find its way into the scariest parts of this world.

Moon... lunar... feminine... my thoughts flow as a stream in my brain, which strives to articulate feelings that can be only unsaid.