An Interlude

I still want to share my observations on one magnificent effect of Obama's win, but in the meantime I wanted to share something I found over the weekend.

I'm clearing out boxes and stumbled upon journals (I never succeeded in keeping one for more than two months, as evidenced by the lack of commitment to this blog...lol). I found a short story I had written about 14 years ago, to assure my then 2-year-old daughter that it was okay for adults to cry when they're sad. Her older brother, Joshua, was stillborn, so I was going through the intense grieving process while she was still a very small child. I didn't want to hide it, yet I didn't want it to frighten her, so I wrote Mommy, Why Are you Crying?.

I also found a poem I wrote at least 20 years ago; sadly, it still applies today, perhaps more so...and in the words of this poem lie the seeds of Wishadoo, the vision for which is to connect...person to person...and reawaken the best of humanity.

We're suspended in a culture of isolation, while drowning in a sea of souls;
like millions of pieces of an unseen puzzle, seeking to become part of a whole.

Our hearts reach out in love and compassion when we learn of the suffering of others;
yet somehow our actions and words are stifled, our feelings unknown to our sisters and brothers.

We are assaulted with a barrage of daily news, from local news to global weather;
but how many of us can say we know the names of our own next-door neighbors?

It's easy to despair and feel overwhelmed in this time of such uncertainty and chaotic growth,
but I believe we can find ourselves...by discovering others...always remembering the power of hope.

Do you know your neighbors?