Phyllis Leavitt’s Blog

No one wants pain, right? We avoid it like the plague, but the truth is we cannot live without it.

Back in the ‘70’s, a friend of mine told me that on his trip to India searching for his guru, he was riding on a train through a remote part of the country, and dust got under his glass contact lenses. By the time he found the guru, he was in excruciating pain. All his spiritual questions went out the window. His only focus was the unbearable burning sensation in his eyes.

My dear friend Charlotte Taft, who has been facing enormous life challenges with unimaginable courage, wrote this beautiful poem, “Gratitude and Grief.“ She read it at our last writing group meeting and I immediately asked her if I could share it in my newsletter.

We are all painfully aware of the recent floods in which well over 100 people died and many more are still missing. The floods literally shifted an entire landscape, and at the same time they also exposed a deeply troubling symptom of our collective mental health.

But like any symptom, it can be the call for the cure– if we choose.

In these extremely challenging times, a repeating theme for many people seems to be– “What can I do?” “Does anything I do matter?” or even, “How do I live this day with all the blessings I have, while so many people are frightened, suffering, and at risk?”

Holding Onto Hope: This Isn’t The Time To Give Up (It’s Never The Time!)   Someone asked me if I have hope in these...

Many years ago, I read an unforgettable story. In the rubble of a Nazi concentration camp, the body of a man was found with one hand still clutching a crumpled piece of paper on which he had scribbled these words, “Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do.” This man did not succumb to hate even in the worst hour of persecution. He died with loving compassion and forgiveness for his tormentors.