The morning my 12-year-old son unexpectedly didn’t wake up, I heard an inner voice say to me, “Tell people what you need.”
Of course, I had no idea what I needed. Life as I once knew it had abruptly ended and I was in no state to tell anyone anything.
Before I could dismiss this voice, however, it elaborated further.
“This is not just about you.”
Too sad to argue, I immediately surrendered and agreed to do what I was told.
As weeks passed and my grief worsened, I turned to Eckhart Tolle and his bestselling book The Power of Now for help.
“If you can’t accept what is outside, then accept what is inside,” he advised. “Do not resist the pain. Allow it to be there. Surrender to the grief, despair, fear, loneliness, or whatever form the suffering takes. Witness it without labeling it mentally. Embrace it. Then see how the miracle of surrender transmutes deep suffering into deep peace.”
Hoping for peace, I followed his advice.
As I walked through my grief and frantically searched for ways out, a familiar inner voice chimed in again and reminded me to tell friends and family members what I needed. The more I helped them help me, the voice said, the easier it would be to find my way.
As I practiced the art of asking for help, my community grew larger and stronger, and in the depths of tragedy I found faith in humanity.
Then something surprising happened. Complete strangers also started showing up to offer support.
Some wrote cards and dropped off homemade meals. Others sent emails and texts letting me know my family was on their minds and in their prayers. As lonely as I often felt, this extended community helped create an energy field of love that surrounded my family and lifted us in ways my human mind may never fully understand.
On days when an inner darkness became overwhelming and I wasn’t sure I could go on, people I didn’t know showed up in the nick of time to shine more light.
Maharishi Mahesh Yogi once said, “Don’t fight darkness–bring the light, and darkness will disappear.”
Martin Luther King Jr. once said: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that.”
And even Anne Frank reflected: “Look at how a single candle can both defy and define the darkness.”
I don’t know how to end wars. I also don’t know how to resolve religious conflicts or rebuild governments. But I do know loss and grief, and I have experienced the degree to which compassion and empathy from both strangers and familiar faces can save lives.
As innocent civilians in Israel, Gaza and Ukraine face unimaginable tragedy and darkness right now, perhaps we can be the light they need to find some peace.
