I was watching Eat Pray Love and remembered a tragic story. I was early in attending AA meetings at the time. I was sitting in a low stone wall outside a meeting house when I noticed a shadow of a man sitting alone. I walked over to him and sat down. His name was John. He told me about the constant nightmares he was having every night for the past several months.

In the nightmare he described driving out of his driveway as his wife (he had no memory of being married) was running after him screaming. That is where the dream ends. He described this through tears and sorrow. He felt that something had happened in his past that he could not remember. We talked a bit more before the meeting started. Afterward he quietly left, driving away in an old faded Volvo.

I saw John only one time more. He arrived just before the meeting started. John asked if I would skip the meeting to talk with him. John appeared tormented, tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke with halts and starts. His voice broke with every word. John stated with a very low voice that he remembered what the dream was about. What he told me broke my heart. I put my are around him and felt my own tears fall. John told me that he was drunk when he got into an argument with his wife and then stormed out of his house.

He jumped into his car and backed out of the driveway spinning the tires on the gravel. He stopped to catch his breath before telling me that his daughter was riding her tricycle in the driveway. John howled and sobbed uncontrollably. I had no words. My mind was numb thinking of my own daughters. John and I sat for a while as the meeting went on inside. John said he needed to leave and take care of things. He promised to be at the next meeting.

Looking back, I wished I had the skills I do now to understand and talk about sorrow and loss, about regret and the pain that invades one’s soul. John wasn’t at the next meeting nor at then next three. I didn’t even know his last name to find out what happened. It wasn’t until a while later that I found he had ended his life soon after we spoke. This lives with me so very deeply in my soul.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-TALK(8255)

“Lifeline assists people in immediate crisis with a skilled, trained crisis worker who will listen to the problems they are experiencing and will connect them to local mental health services. All calls are confidential and free.”

there once was a delicate songbird who had fragile feathers of white and gold. she had large brown eyes that were often prone to tears. in her beautiful singing she carried a sadness and loneliness she could not place. a sorrow deep and long. one day she met a crow. he stood proud and beautiful with shiny large black feathers. his song was not pretty at all. but he romanced her with shiny beads and trinkets. his words were soft and gentle.

she became smitten with his charm and soon decided after his incessant pleading for her to move with him, she did so. she moved from her soft and lovely nest to his. it was a large and thorny nest, not at all lovely. Once there, the romance, the shiny beads and trinkets stopped coming. His words, once soft and inviting, became harsh and condescending. She was trapped, for she loved him so deeply and couldn’t leave.

11/22/2023 Bucksport, Maine

Dreams of yesterday

were once a heartbeat away

the summer sun briefly outlines

her shape through a dress so delicate

the warmth of love and sun

playing games with the breeze

lost in a moment

years and decades pass

eternity seemed so far away.

10/2020

his artwork lay in piles

throughout the rooms

pieces of random paper

stuck out of corners and shelves

handwritten or typed

the personal thoughts and daydreams

sat unread for years

the light shined through the big window

lighting the loss

lighting his memories and dreams

she stood for a moment

caught in the beating of her heart

looking around

the memories began to flood in

a tear fell

as she picked up a letter on the floor

it was written by hand from him

to her…

I read the stories of hope and gratitude. A story of an old woman stranded and a poor young man named Joe, helping her on that cold and rainy night to change a tire. She offered him money for his help, but he declined, stating that he wished she would pay it forward. Later the old woman stopped at a small diner. It was an out of the way place. The waitress was young and eight months pregnant. She was kind and helpful to the old woman, bringing a towel to her to wipe of the rain from her head. The woman left after paying the check. The waitress saw that there was a $100 bill on the table with a note stating that she wanted to help the waitress out as someone had helped her in her time of need. The waitress returned home after her shift and handed the moey to her husband, He was washing the dirt and grime off his hands. She could see his trousers and shirt were dirty. ‘Joe, you won’t believe what happened at work tonight.

Stories like this often will bring tears and heavy emotion. It is like a well opens up within me. I am empathic and feel deeply. I believe what I feel in these moments is the love in the world struggling against the hatred and ignorance that has been given and microphone and large speaker in the form of Social Media. Hatred and ignorance always shouts from the distance, love comes in close and whispers in our ears. This gives us a choice, to live with anger and hatred or with love and understanding in our hears… I, myself, accept to tears of love.

Carrots twisted and knurled

Hands cognizant of the garden’s needs caress them.

Face weathered and heavy

Gazes upon then in quiet rapture

A model T in the time of Chevy Cavaliers

He talks of old times

With a fondness in his voice

Stories of remembered loves and losses

A smile breaks free from his craggy furrows

Within those spotless blue eyes

Childhood gleams faintly

“Two hundred and ninety fice dollars” what I paid

Dark green with a black leather seat

I stood there among the bright green shoots

In the heavily tilled soil so much like his face

He needed to talk, to remember

Dropping the earth’s bounty into a wrinkles paper bag

His eyes ran my thoughts

I’m an infant in wonder to his experiences

To his memories

Raspy words from a soothing soul

Harvard Bean dies a month later

The carrots with him

Ninety nine years of memories

Me, a child to his thoughts

I remember Harvard Bean

A carat of simplicity

In this world of cavaliers

We were born knowing the truth about life

Innocence allowed us to play and interact with everyone

Regardless of skin color, religion or other prejudice

Slowly we are taught by experience

We are taught by example

We are taught by violence and hatred

To shed our worldly innocence

When a child hates another

Because of skin color, religion or other prejudice

It is because they were taught

Taught by the ignorance of adults

That have completely lost their worldly innocence.

What if one day you realize that how you accept or not accept your pain and suffering is directly related to the progress of your soul through the ages. That the consequences of your actions, both good or bad, dictate the trajectory of your growth, or the lack thereof. What if I told you that your reluctance to understand, process and accept your pain and suffering as lessons and true moments of growth, leads you to a vicious never-ending cycle of the same pain and suffering ad infinitum? What would you do?

I was told long ago that we have an opportunity to change the world each and every day. The statement did not make much sense to me in the beginning. But as I progressed in my field of mental health counseling and mindfulness, the idea of this statement began to come into clear focus.

When talking with other spiritual and mindful people, I came to the understanding of the simplicity of the statement. One such very mindful person translated the statement so eloquently that I utilize it on my practice. She stated that the simple act of smiling when meeting or even passing a person can have a massive ripple effect on the world. Much of the effect goes unseen by the originator of the smile.

Imagine walking in your local Trader Joe’s and passing a person that does not look like they are having a good day. Your choice to smile when your eyes meet might very well lift their mood enough that they continue their day happier. That continues to those that she or he may meet, and so on. A smile is actually a small miracle of being human. It’s power is subtle and beautiful.

Above are the words: To Heal the World in both Jewish and Arab languages. The languages of the world may be many. But the language of love is but one. And it usually starts with a smile.