Super powerful magic is afoot.*
It’s also a day for reflection.
I think it is sad that an entire day is given to us to take a moment of reflection** and so often we rush along without taking even eleven minutes to think about people who for days, weeks, months and years withstood the most awful and wrenching of circumstances in order that we have the liberty to enjoy this day, this life.
I am not here to debate the merits of war (as if!) — my point is to honor those spirits who went into trenches, into battle, into hell — with the intention of serving the collective good.
There is no way I can bring all of it to mind — not that I would attempt to — there are too many wars that this country has engaged in for me to reflect upon all the suffering I wish to bring blessings to. Instead, I will sit with an image that I received early in my life as a kid growing up outside Philadelphia.
So, the winter of December 1777 into January 1778 was imprinted onto my consciousness at a very early age. The blood on the snow from bare feet. The lack of blankets. Hundreds died in slow agony of disease without the least bit of comfort.
And yet, they prevailed. Some how. Their spirits prevailed. And this is what I am bringing to mind this morning– for eleven minutes, at least.
* more on that tomorrow
**I mean, people — do you have any idea how long it takes people who have the power to create national holidays to agree on which days deserve a “pause” for reflection?