humanitarians – Notes from the Far Beyond

Just a Thought…

The world is in such a parlous state, and we’ve seen so much mindless devastation and tragedy recently.

Below is a chapter extracted from my 2012 book Pictures of Palestine. It’s about the amazing creative contributions that some people make, with a view to re-heartening downhearted people.

This might not be a thought for you now, but it might become relevant in perhaps a few years’ time. The agenda here is to help people rebuild, once the horrors have stopped. There are plenty of countries to choose from.

It can be done for (say) two months each year. If you’re in your 20s or 30s, or approaching retirement, it’s a chance to do something really meaningful. This extracted chapter will give a taste of it.

Or, regardless, it’s a good read!

Love, Palden

https://www.palden.co.uk/pop

———————–

Fun in Beit Lahem

bagpipes and saxes in the Old Town

Arriving back in Bethlehem from Ramallah, I went to Adnan’s shop to sit down. But then something else happened: music started playing down in Manger Square. It turned out to be a Palestinian Christian marching band playing, to my surprise, Scots bagpipes and drums. The shutter on my camera was busy for a while.

This was a throwback to the days of the British Mandate. The band, clothed in smart uniforms with red berets, marched around Manger Square, then up Al-Najmah Street into the Old Town. It was rousing music, yet coloured with a wry sense of historic tragedy, a hint of wishful thinking of former days. It faded into the distance, there was a pause and then they came back down again, with gaggles of people in tow and others hanging out of the windows watching. The band marched around the square again and then stopped. People hung around, chatting and the atmosphere on the square was sociable and upbeat.

Then something else started up: the unmistakeable sound of ragtime jazz, coming closer down Al-Najmah Street. As I went down to see, seven Austrian musicians appeared, dressed in comical clothing and followed by a happy crowd of kids and adults, all now entering the square. Everything and everyone perked up and people flooded into the square from all directions. Eventually hundreds were gathered, young and old. The jazz band stood in a semi-circle, striking funny poses, eyeballing people as they played, taking turns to do solos, and people gathered around, taken with the witty ragtime music. It was good music, skilfully played.

Bravo to them. The group had come to Palestine to entertain, and they were succeeding spectacularly. Their crazy humour connected well with Bethlehemites, everyone smiling and chuckling. Christian monks in their habits hung around, chatting with the remnants of the marching band; boys on bikes weaved around them, and families, old ladies, kids and sundry foreigners all were drawn in by the happy din.

My eyes were becoming moist – the scene was so poignant. Here was an imprisoned people chattering, laughing, hanging out. This musical intervention is real aid and development, providing an ignition-spark to raise people’s spirits, give youngsters ideas, remind oldsters of happier times and simply to exorcise all current gloom. Bethlehem broke out into a smile and tapped its feet while the trombone, clarinet, cornet, trumpet and drums blasted out jazztime ditties and the Austrians sweated in their funny costumes.

A number of private initiatives like this do happen in Palestine – people come here bringing spirited cultural and human input. They bravely contribute what they’re good at to a remarkably grateful and responsive audience. Carrying a trombone through security checks can’t be the easiest thing to explain to a sceptical Israeli officer.

I heard of a project by a Dutch rock band, half of them working in Israel, half in Palestine. They held drumming workshops on both sides to train people up for the main event. They got loads of people drumming on anything they could find, all ages joining the training. Then one day everyone trooped upstairs through the buildings on each side of the separation wall on to the flat rooftops, where they played together for hours, across the concrete curtain of the security wall. Apparently it was quite a gig.

Some years ago a German installation artist came to Palestine, mobilising people to assemble junk, wrecks and bits of old metal, of which there is plenty. Then he set to welding them into massive statues outside various Palestinian towns. After completing one junk-sculpture, he would move to another town, leaving a series of sculptures which are mostly still there.

There was also a woman from Switzerland, whom I helped to get fixed up, carrying out her own aid initiative. She taught the European Computer Driving Licence, a certificate course in computer and software use. Her aim was to teach five Palestinians whom she would then set loose to teach others, and she would return later to supervise developments. She had discovered the Hope Flowers Centre in Deheisheh as a place to help facilitate this process – they had a newly kitted-out computer room funded by a European charitable trust.

I talked her through a few facts of the game, and she was receptive. This was a good sign: many Westerners have difficulty encompassing the differences between Palestine and the West. I told her that the basic efficiency standards we take for granted in the West were unlikely to work here – people turning up on time and things happening as planned. She wouldn’t achieve her teaching task in just a few days, as she first had anticipated. I advised her to give it a few weeks, and she’d probably need to do more supervision and follow-up than intended, but her students would be intelligent and motivated. She would also make many friends and might even fall in love with the place – these are the truly human spin-offs that can arise. She got the message and I think it rather excited her.

This kind of thing can be problematic though. As Hope Flowers’ webmaster, people e-mail me with offers of help, but they don’t necessarily understand the realities involved. There’s an expectation that Palestinians will jump to attention and accommodate their generosity, and it’s not quite like that.

One lady from New York City wished to teach cartoon-drawing to the children, to help them deal with their trauma by externalising their life-stories in cartoon format. A very good idea! Except that she wanted to have everything lined up so that she could do it in just one day. This was just not doable: it’s not possible to move everything around to accommodate the urgent timetables of a visiting Westerner. People wouldn’t be convinced of the value of cartooning until they tried it. To succeed in her mission, she would have to adapt to the situation, give it time and take things as they come. I had to decline her offer and regretted that.

A charity in California wanted to send vitamin pills for the school kids, another wonderful idea. Usually they sent them to Africa or to disaster areas, so they didn’t quite understand the unique political circumstances here: the Israelis would not allow such a consignment through. The charity could not believe this – after all, Israel is an ally of USA, isn’t it? Well, that makes no difference.

There’s an extra twist to this. It’s not just a question of straight, oppressive restrictions. If the charity gave the school money to buy the vitamins from abroad, then the business would go through an Israeli importer who would profit from the transaction and, eventually, inshallah, the vitamins would probably get through. The fact that this was an aid donation made it different, since Israeli policy firmly has it that there is no humanitarian problem in the West Bank, so no aid is needed. The charity got upset with us because they thought we were being ungrateful and obstructive.

Such ungratefulness also happened with a charity seeking to send Christmas gifts. Theoretically a good idea, except that Muslims don’t do Christmas. A consignment of gifts was sent but Israeli customs got hold of them, so Ibrahim worked hard to release the gifts. Eventually they arrived long after Christmas, with most gifts removed and distributed to poor Orthodox Jewish families, whose parents don’t work for a living.

Disappointingly, only the boxes and a few leftover gifts were allowed through. Ibrahim told the charity not to send more gifts the following year but they couldn’t believe that the Israelis would block such a donation. Surely corrupt Palestinians had embezzled the gifts instead?

There’s another issue here: cultural sensitivity. Palestinian children don’t need Santa socks. As for cake with brandy in, books with Bible stories or plastic toys that break on day two, forget it. So, the thought is nice, but it’s necessary to find out what’s actually needed or to send some money, or to come over to visit and find out what will work and why. We might ask for art materials or photocopier spare parts, or even money to cover the accountants’ and auditors’ services that Western organisations often require, to prove that we’re not embezzling funds. Westerners’ generosity is sincere but it doesn’t always have the intended effect and the hassles incurred can be immense. Or the aid that is sent mainly benefits educated, well-connected Palestinians who need it less than the underprivileged. Complications that are encountered can cause charities and well-wishers to withhold support, which in turn increases Palestinians’ feelings of abandonment.

The street-level aid and support ventures that individual people think up and carry out are heart-warming, imaginative and, at times, genuinely helpful – often in different ways than first conceived. Healers, artists and all sorts of people come here, and the locals appreciate it. Fancy taking an initiative yourself? Someone might fix you a piano, a room or a crowd of people. If not, something else will happen. But it’s probably best to make a reconnaissance trip first, to find out what reality looks like in Palestine.

Rock Sea

Back in 2012 I was doing a tour of duty in Palestine. I didn’t know it at the time, but it was to be my last. After that I was visiting Palestinian refugees in Syria, who were in an awkward situation regarding the Assad family’s ultimately self-destructive habit of shooting at their own people.

The Assads had been good to the Palestinians, but the Palestinians could not accept what the Syrian regime was doing. That put them in a politically awkward situation. So, at the request of some Palestinians in Bethlehem, who could not visit their relatives in Syria, I went from Amman in Jordan to Yarmouk refugee camp near Damascus to help with some awkward issues they were facing.

This was early on in the Syrian civil war in 2013-4, when there were about 5-6 parties slugging it out. You couldn’t tell who was shooting, or who the next checkpoint belonged to – it was a nightmare. It was a matter of staying calm, being friendly and hoping for the best – it worked. I’m good at that and, as proof, I’m still alive.

Anyway, while in Palestine I had to leave after three months because I had only a three month tourist visa. I had to leave and then re-enter – a rather dodgy business. So I caught a bus to Eilat in the far south of Israel, over the prickly border into Egypt (the Israelis give you a harder time when you’re leaving than when you’re entering), and then I hitched a ride in a Bedouin taxi down to the Rock Sea Camp.

While there, I wrote this blog entry, called ‘Lost in Arabiyya’:

https://www.palden.co.uk/pop/arabiyya.html

Rock Sea was a camp by the side of Red Sea, not far from Nuweiba, filled mostly with Europeans. https://www.rocksea.net They mostly flew in from Europe via Sharm el Sheikh – Egypt’s big tourist resort on the Sinai peninsula.

I went there to decompress, to think things over, and then to return to Bethlehem for another two months in the rather hot frying pan that is Palestine.

I needed this thinking time because I had been involved in some rather hair-raising events in Bethlehem, and there was a chance that certain people might have been watching me. Not very nice people. The story (as much as I can safely tell it) is here, as an audiobook called Blogging in Bethlehem:

https://www.palden.co.uk/bethlehemblog.html

So this is the short story of what went on for me at Rock Sea, extracted from my third Palestine book, called O Little Town of Bethlehem – Christmas in God’s Holy Land, available online here, for free: https://www.palden.co.uk/pop/order.html

Love, Abu Balden

Arabs can’t say ‘p’ – instead they say ‘b’. Hence that, there, I’m called Balden. ‘Abu’ is an honorific meaning ‘father figure’.

Making a Difference

This is a short talk I gave recently in Penzance, Cornwall, during a Palestine-support event.

Many of us get caught up in the big issues around Palestine, often paying a lot of attention to our own countries’ or international politics and inadvertently forgetting actual Palestinians in places like Gaza. Anyway, the politics is a nightmare that’s going nowhere anytime soon.

This is about making friends with an actual Gazan, taking a person-to-person approach. It can have a bigger effect that you might at first imagine. And the friendship and benefit goes both ways.

You can also find it on my podcast page at https://palden.co.uk/podcasts.html

In the talk I recommend a website run by Gazan young people: www.wearenotnumbers.org – check it out.

Thanks to Gershon Baskin of Jerusalem – a good-hearted Israeli – for a quote from his recent writing. Well done Adam Stout and Alison Dhuanna for organising the event – and thereby raising 600 GBP to help a few Gazans.

A correction: to get out of Gaza costs $5,000, and it is paid to the Egyptians at Rafah Crossing, who pay the Israelis, and both take their cut. It’s just as bad, whatever the excuse and whoever does it – exploiting people in need.

With love, Palden

By the seaside. Photo by Refaat Ibrahim of wearenotnumbers.org

Hope Flowers in Bethlehem

Take a look at these pics.

These are kids at the Hope Flowers School in Bethlehem, West Bank, Palestine, and these pics were taken in the last few days.

They are orphans from Gaza, and refugee and special needs kids from the West Bank. Apart from giving a good education under difficult circumstances, the school gives kids the tools to process their anger, loss, fear and trauma, so that they grow up knowing there is another way. Another way from what has happened over the last hundred years in Palestine and Israel.

Note the performers. These look like visiting Europeans. They are independent humanitarians: they set about brightening up the lives of people in places like Palestine and they make a big difference. They often fund themselves to do so, and travel cheap and crash on sofas. Some are performers, some hairdressers, some are welders and some are law graduates, artists and retired professionals. Have you ever considered doing something like this?

Forget Trump and Natanyahu: this is the human frontline, where the real work of peacemaking happens. These children are, I hope, the generation who will see a big change across the Middle East. The times of war need to end now: we must do things another way. And these are the people who will do it. That is my prayer for them.

Here’s the translation of the text that came with the pics:

In an atmosphere filled with fun and positive energy, the professor of physical education, Mr. Mustafa, organized a special recreational day for the students of the school, in cooperation with the refugee center, where play, art, and laughter came together in an unforgettable day ✨

⭕ A variety of events between animated games that enhanced activity and interaction, face painting added colors of joy to the faces of children, alongside a theatrical circus that presented pleasant performances that brought joy to the hearts🎪😊

‪Our students also participated in playing with parschute and other group activities that contributed to promoting a spirit of cooperation, active discharge, and building self-confidence in a fun and safe way 🌟

⛔ This day was an open space for joy and expression, and an integrated recreational educational experience that emphasizes the importance of play in supporting our children’s physical and psychological development 💚

ـــــــــ🍂ــــــ We learn for human well-being ــــــ🍂ــــــــ

Here’s their website:
https://hopeflowers.org/wp/

and their FB page (mostly in Arabic, for locals):
https://www.facebook.com/Hope.Flowers.School/posts/pfbid02mtAFNELopcSZ3eknikmSvQFouFghRGcHyPNWG4uQPzhWPMWgfWhBZecKdf2myzaTl?rdid=hVLn6DjWEM1DLRTP

To make a donation to Hope Flowers, go to this page for links to Hope Flowers’ supporting organisations in different countries:
https://hopeflowers.org/wp/support/

Here’s a readable story about the history and philosophy of the school. It’s from my book Pictures of Palestine, and it’s called ‘Korea meets Palestine’. (Korea and Palestine were both divided in the same year, 1948.)
https://www.palden.co.uk/pop/korea-meets-palestine.html

The Tuareg of the Sahara

I’ve been working with a village of Tuareg for ten years, in a small people-sized support operation. They live in the Sahara desert, a day away from the historic city of Timbuktu in Mali.

We restocked their goats and camels after a terrible drought, helped them dig a new well and build a small village school.

But now I need to pull out – I can’t continue with things I used to be able to do. But I don’t want to abandon them.

So this pod tells the story, and about the dilemma of a humanitarian with a need to pass this on.

With love, Palden

Thanks to Constanze Küppers in Germany for prompting me to make this pod

Or find it on my podcast page at https://www.palden.co.uk/podcasts.html

Hearts and Minds

A few days ago I thought out loud that I had little to say. Well, this turned out to be incorrect. Forgive me for that! Goes to show, I too have my illusions. Here’s a new Pod from the Far Beyond.

I went on a slow stagger down to the pleasantly unkempt woods below the farm where I live. I sat next to a big hazel tree that’s far older than me, where I usually go. It leans over and there’s a sitting place amidst its roots which is just right for me. It’s my outside broadcast studio, where quite a few podcasts have been made.

This one is all about the battle for the hearts and minds of humanity. This is something that is unfolding behind and beneath the torrent of worrying events that we experience today.

‘The path of excess leads to the palace of wisdom’. Thus said William Blake over two centuries ago. Well, true. But do we really need to pursue excess in order to achieve wisdom? It causes a lot of damage to our world and to hearts and minds. There is another way.

As a peacemaker (more correctly, a peacebuilder) there hasn’t been a lot of progress since the days of Vietnam and Northern Ireland – the issues I and many others of my postwar generation started out with. The warmakers are still very much at it.

But the matter is still open. We’re coming to the time. And this podcast is about that. It’s here on Spotify:

or on my podcast page, where you’ll also find 60-odd Paldy-podcasts on a range of subjects:

www.palden.co.uk/podcasts.html

In the weeks and months to follow, I might well come up with further insights about the future. Despite everything, I’m still an optimist. Though we’re in a strange, perverse time of history where humanity is bring taught how not to do things, and it can seem as if everything is going wrong.

A lot of it depends on how we see things.

With love, Palden

Growing Down

A new podcast

This is mainly for my generational peers – if you’re in your 70s, 80s or 90s, your bones are getting creaky and your mind is getting sluggish.

In the life-cycle we’re given, we grow up and later we grow down. In steps.

It’s also about karma-clearance. Sorting out our stuff at the end of life, so that we don’t carry all of it with us when we go over to the other side – to the realm of the Ancestors.

I’ve been involved in humanitarian work, and recently I’ve needed to work on my patterns around givingness and compassion fatigue. Commitment. Success and failure in helping people. Deep heart stuff.

And it’s about acceptance. That’s one of the biggest learning experiences life ever gives us.

47 mins long. Introduced and outroduced by the birds of Grumbla in the Far Beyond, down’ere in Cornwall.

With love, Paldywan

https://www.palden.co.uk/podcasts.html

Paldywan at Treen chambered cairn, April 2025 – a place where (I think) people went to die.
Photo by Torr MacFarlane.

The Plughole

It’s the Sunday meditation again, and I have revived sufficiently from an illness that floored me last week to be able to elbow you about it! That is, you’re welcome to join us in the zone – times for different countries are below. It’s an open meditation space lasting half an hour. To quote Van Morrison: no guru, no teacher, no method – just you and me in the garden… Follow your own path, together with us following ours. We shall be blessed.

If needed, details are here: www.palden.co.uk/meditations.html

The illness was a fluey thing. My energy was low, and I’d been pushing hard and under pressure in my remote humanitarian work. So when I got cold and wet during a trip to Falmouth, my soul pulled the plug and I went down through it. Next day I was semi-conscious, stiff and hurting, with sluggish brains, wobbly balance, burning feet (peripheral neuropathy) and I was right out of it, gone, hardly here.

A pertinent sign at Gurnard’s Head, in West Penwith

My predominant emotion was grief, over things that have happened, and particularly over moral dilemmas and painful moments in my humanitarian work over the years. I’ve seen people face hardship, suffer and die who, in my estimation, should not have died, and at times I’ve been unable to help – often quite simply I did not have the funds needed for medical treatment for an amputation or to save a life.

This is a deep dilemma being faced by many humanitarians now, as governments blithely withdraw funding and the public shrugs its shoulders. For me, in late life, it has left traces of regret, even though I know that the net value of my work was positive overall, and there’s a lot I’m glad about.

But the illness enabled me to go deep, deep down to a place where the hidden roots of life’s experiences and events ferment and bubble. This is one of the big virtues of illness that many people try their best to avoid – the consciousness changes it can bring about. Sometimes our soul needs to cut us down and render us helpless, to help us work through something – burn through something. Whether or not we actually do this is a life-choice and an exercise of profound free will.

It is an act of free will to choose to go through a turning in the deepest seat of consciousness. You have to go over the edge and take the plunge. Getting into the habit of doing this throughout our lives sets us up for one of life’s greatest and most moving of experiences – dying.

As you approach death, life tends to take you down in stages – a series of crunch moments or crises where your worldly powers and agency are reduced, your world shrinks, and you bodily functions deteriorate. This incremental withdrawal yields the possibility of a new seeing, a new understanding, if we so choose it. Though it involves perceiving truths that can at first be uncomfortable. Yet facing and accepting these revealings becomes a relief too, an understanding, a forgiveness. For this life had simply been a short visit on an ongoing pathway. It begins and it ends.

Back in the 1990s I was privileged to help and spend quality time with Sir George Trevelyan, who was in effect the grandfather of the New Age movement in Britain. Very much a man of the Twentieth Century, born in 1906 and dying in 1996, he was an aristocratic philanthropist, thinker and educator, planting the seeds of the new age and the green movement in the 1940s-70s. He was a four-planet Scorpio. At the very end, he died by decision, announcing that he should not be disturbed or given any food or drinks. He was gone in 4-5 days.

Here’s a video of him talking in 1988, in his eighties. Thank you, Sir George, for being you, for what you did with and for so many people, and for pointing the way in my life too.

Meanwhile, if you care to join today’s meditation… see you there!

Love, Palden

Current meditation times, on Sundays:
UK, Ireland & Portugal 8-8.30pm GMT
W Europe 9-9.30pm
E Europe, Turkiye and the Levant 10-10.30pm
Brazil-Argentina 4-4.30pm
CST, Mexico, Jamaica, Colombia 2-2.30pm
EST, Cuba 3-3.30pm
PST North America 12-12.30am

Fullmooning

Kilgooth Ust or Cape Cornwall, with The Brisons behind

First things first… The Sunday Meditation continues, whether or not I announce it. Sometimes I can’t, and there’s no one to cover for me. Yet I’m always there meditating at the appointed time, and so are quite a few other people.

You’re welcome to join us. It’s a recipe-free open meditation, especially for independent souls who follow their own path or live relatively isolated from others. All you need is half an hour, a cushion and your inner presence. Join us in the zone. No need to be online.

I might not be able to do regular meditation calls from now on. A lot of things are happening and I’m rather overwhelmed! Much of it is good stuff, and some is difficult – mainly my humanitarian work.

I three-quarters wrote a blog about this, about compassion fatigue, but I’m not fully clear how to write about a few delicate issues, so that’s gone into in the ‘later or never’ pile. For me, as a lifelong author and editor, getting stuck on some writing is unusual and strangely frustrating!

Even so, things are happening.

– I’m doing a talk on Tuesday 15th April, 7.30 at Gwithti an Pystri, the Museum of Folklore and Magic in Falmouth (book ahead);

– then there’s a visit to Gloucester to see my old friend Ibrahim Issa from Hope Flowers School in Bethlehem, Palestine, on 2-4 May (I’m still looking for a driver-minder for that, or a workable way to get there and back);

– and a talk at the Pathways to the Past conference in St Just, Cornwall, on Saturday 24th May (I’m really happy about that);

– and another at the Just Live Camp near Morvah in Penwith a day or two after, on 25th or 26th May.

Then there’s the Belerion Project, about which I’m really happy too. It’s a research project into the subtle energy and psychoactive effects of the system of ancient sites in Penwith. We did our first field trip to Portheras Common Barrow recently and, despite weather challenges, it went really well. Thanks to everyone who came. The next is on Wednesday 7th May.

I’ve always been rather workaholicky but, age 75 and doing a cancer trip, recently I’ve been running at capacity. Just getting ready to go out can wear me out, requiring a rest, and everything requires twice the effort it took in pre-cancer days. My brains aren’t handling all the messages, chats and enquiries involved – apologies to people I fail to answer.

I’m a hyperfocused Aspie, you see – good at concentrating for hours in a right-brained way but bad at hopping from thing to thing in a left-brained way. Aged brains do get creaky and slow! This is a mixed gift that has come with cancer: I’ve done some of the best creativity of my life, though I have a decreased capacity for admin, lists, names, timetables and even time itself. Or remembering to have dinner.

That’s the way it goes. Ideally I need an assistant (who lives close by and knows me well – not online). But I cannot pay such a person. That’s been one of the issues of my life that I was trying to write about in the latest, as yet unpublished blog: I’ve never had an expense account to finance projects and missions. It’s mostly come out of my own pocket.

A plus with this is that I’ve pulled off some mighty stunts on a slim budget, and I’ve been a free agent, but it is wearing too, and many good things could have happened if I’d had better funding.

For those who suggest I should ‘just’ do some crowd-sourcing (takes ten minutes, it’s easy and the money floods in, haha), I ask, do you require soldiers to fund their service at the frontline? Soldiers are paid salaries and pensions while peacemakers are told it’s our choice, our risk and why don’t we get a proper job?

You might hear a thread of resentment there. That’s why I didn’t complete the blog. I’ve got stuff around it. It’s still happening now: I and others I’m working with in Ghana, Mali and Palestine are all being seriously obstructed by, would you believe, the actions, errors, denials and avoidances of two banks, one in USA and one in Australia.

It’s not simple, this game. Paldywan Kenobi stares down the banksters! Who’d have thought I’d get sucked into teaching banks how to be human, at my age? Oh, and dealing with a few crime gangs, Wagners and drug-addled murderers along the way, remotely from my eyrie here in Cornwall. Well, I’m quite good at it, actually, and many people give up on such things when things get big or dangerous. I tend to hang in there.

When you step into what used to be called The Great Work, the rules of normal life seem to levitate out of the window and disappear. Retirement is something other people do.

For astrologers, I’ve just gone through Saturn opposing my natal Saturn (and square Moon and Ascendant). So I’m doing Saturn, yet again. When I started my cancer trip five years ago, I thought I had 1-3 years left, so I put my rather mission-driven, saturnine sense of life-purpose to the side. But it has started up again!

Well, my dear old late Mum used to say, “There’s no rest for the wicked!”. Well, yes, perhaps so, or perhaps not. She was a do-gooder too, handing me down that pattern, bless her. In our self-centred times, it’s not a sensible strategy, doing good, but some of us choose it or get sucked into it anyway.

Compassion fatigue, versus ‘To give and not to count the cost’. Non-attachment to the fruits of our labours, versus ‘Give me the compensation you owe for your frigging corporate errors’. Yes, these things have been rattling around in my heart during those Saturn transits. Well, life is for the learning.

I’ve been reminding myself of something a young Berliner taught me while standing (as you do) in the Sinai Desert. I repeat this here, particularly for people infected with the Trump virus:

It’s okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.

Love from me – as you might sense, in a rather saturnine mood on this fullmoon!

Palden

Geopolitical Healing

The seventh Aha Class, in Penzance, Cornwall
Weds 12th March, 6.30pm, at The Hive

A settler incursion and tricky situation in the historic souk in Hebron, Palestine

Inner journeying, meditation, remote healing and peace-building. Doing our bit toward tackling the world’s problems – instead of wringing hands and feeling helpless.

In recent times many of us have been moved to join meditations, prayers and link-ups when major crises break out. Waves of mass empathy and concern over such crises can have a wide and deep psycho-spiritual influence – it goes deeper than mere ‘public opinion’.

Praying for peace or showering light over a benighted area are good, though often they are of a generalised nature. They can affect the collective psyche and sometimes help swing things.

But it’s possible to get closer in. It’s possible to penetrate actual situations and play a more targeted part in them – literally rescuing people or souls, or participating in situations, meetings and crux-points at the frontline of human experience.

That’s what this evening is about. This might be a valuable inner tool to add to your repertory. This is not ‘lightworking’ but spiritual humanitarian work – bringing in truckloads of spirit, rescue and healing.

This is not simple. It carries responsibilities, and it’s not a matter of imposing our wishes – benign or biased – on world situations. The key issue is to help humanity learn, to become more aware in making the choices it makes, for the longterm resolution of what are often deep-seated problems.

In the first half of this evening, I’ll outline considerations and issues involved in such work, how we choose issues and crises and work with them, and the blessings, delusions and dangers involved and what it’s all for.

In the second half we’ll go on an inner journey to work with a particular area of focus that is currently afoot in the world. (And, first time round, we won’t be working with polarised Trump-related issues!)

You might or might not wish to go into this kind of work but, even if you don’t, world situations do come up at times, touching our hearts, to which we respond, and inner journeying (conscious dreaming) is one way we can play a part in world affairs as situations arise. Once you get the gist of it, it can be applied in areas that interest you – socio-cultural, ecological, geopolitical or simply encouraging forward-moving change.

If you’ve done this kind of thing before, this class might help you clarify a few things and take it a step further. If it’s new territory, it’s a good place to start.

Since most of you will not be able to come, audio recordings will be posted online within days after the class (no charge) – just follow the link below. Recordings of all of the Aha Classes can be found here. If geopolitical healing interests you, you might find this site useful: The Flying Squad.

https://www.palden.co.uk/ahanotes-geo.html

With love, Palden

Site: http://www.palden.co.uk
Podcasts: http://www.palden.co.uk/podcasts.html
Books: https://www.palden.co.uk/books-by-palden.html