Born from the Ashes

This past week I was with my husband’s family mourning the loss of their mother, wife, grandmother, great grandmother, aunt, cousin and friend.  Wanda’s death broke our hearts wide open revealing emotions that are all too often buried under past grievances, or just the busy-ness of life. Love, tears, compassion, support, laughter, stories, old pictures, plans and promises for the future were shared in heartfelt conversations and embraces.  The sadness and loss stripped us of our guard and grudges long enough to remember that we are all connected, that we all belong somewhere in the web of this family and the web of humanity.  Like a phoenix, familial bonds were reborn from the ashes of her remains. 
This is the place where I want to live.  This place where love, compassion, unity, truth, acceptance, and laughter are the norm and judgment, suspicion, or disinterest are rare.
I don’t want to have to be reminded by a tragic event to live from this place of love and appreciation more of the time than not.  I know how tenuous my dwelling here is already with the constant barrage of insidious negativity in the forms of media, gossip, judgment, etc. Right now, I am clinging to the practice of listening carefully to my thoughts and words to purge them of unconstructive, negative critical thinking or expression.  So far this practice is keeping me busy, honest, and humble.  I am hoping, with practice, it will just become the norm.