Palestine – Page 2 – Notes from the Far Beyond

Social Capital

Photos from trips I made to Geneva 12-14 years ago. These are *The Dispossessed*

If you’re in your forties or fifties this is for you. Oh, and by the way, this is what’s nowadays called a ‘long read’, and, guess what, no AI was involved.

It’s about the care crisis and what needs to happen before you yourself grow old. I’m not going to harp on about pensions and savings, or the rights or wrongs of privileged old people currently being relatively prosperous at the expense of younger people. Neither will I repeat the implicit message that says ‘Look after yourself because no one else will’. There’s much more to it than that.

Nowadays I’m a net recipient of care and support, as a creaky old cancer patient. Similar things will probably happen to you. For Millennials and today’s younger people, it looks like you have a problem building up for when you get old, and that’s daunting. But there’s time to prepare, and magic solutions are available.

We’ve got to get real about the future. My own postwar generation has avoided much of this, and our behaviour has not necessarily matched our beliefs and ideologies. There’s a lot of hot air about growing old gracefully, but my generation still hangs on to our independence, sovereignty and property, and we have difficulty letting go (Pluto in Leo, and the Pluto in Virgos of the Sixties can be pretty control-freaky too). When we were young we had big visions of community (we have Neptune in Libra), and it hasn’t happened – not in a way that works in our old age. We have omitted to pool our financial and social capital. Here’s a tip: try not to do the same as you lot grow older!

Many of my generation have landed up on our own, stowed away in our centrally-heated, often over-sized houses or isolated in some godforsaken room somewhere. Society, in a perpetual hurry, quietly elbows us and dependents like us to the side. People largely don’t mean to do this, but they just don’t have time to be human – and this creates a social crisis. It’s the human aspect that, to children, to the chronically ill, the disabled and the old, becomes critically important: we humans have a bizarre need to feel that somebody loves and cares about us, that we matter to someone.

Palestinians used to ask me, ‘How can you talk about human rights when you stuff your grandparents away in front of a TV in a padded prison?‘ – and they have a point.

This is a Pluto in Aquarius question – a key issue for the next twenty years. In the West we’ve gone through a period of (arguably) excessive prosperity, enabling us to venture into possibilities that otherwise wouldn’t have happened. One of these is lengthened lives – it’s now reasonable to expect reaching our eighties while, when I was young, it was the sixties or seventies. If I had contracted cancer 30-40 years ago I’d soon have been decisively dead – but not now.

Along the way we have professionalised and medicalised social care, and this is unsustainable, clunky, expensive and without limits. There’s a shortage of carers, nurses, teachers, cleaners, cooks and midwives, and we neither pay them well nor honour them properly, even though they hold up society. It’s all costing more than we are able or willing to pay, and we’re going deeper into debt, trying to maintain a lifestyle that’s already past its time. We’ve reached the end of a period in which the West got rich off everyone else, and now that we’re in an historic downward-curve, we need to get focused on a soft landing.

We’ve lapsed into a rather decadent kind of denialism: “I’m all in favour of change as long as it doesn’t affect me“. Thus we’re heading toward a likely crash landing… shock, horror… only to realise that we can’t continue living as we have lived, and our precious lifestyle has become unserviceable. Why didn’t someone warn us? Well, they did, decades ago, and no one wanted to listen.

Well, we’ll get what we get, though there are options.

Geneva has never been an imperial capital or the capital of anything, but it has a certain style to it…

In the rich world we’ve become materially wealthy while becoming socially and spiritually poorer. We’ve set aside social and community matters, even our humanness, in favour of wealth-generation and consumption, as if happiness comes from material plenty and security. But it does so only up to a point, and above that we hit diminishing happiness-returns. Just enough is good for us, and too much is definitely not. Treats are not a substitute for happiness.

This dilemma revealed itself to us during the Covid lockdowns. We became a tad more human for a month or two before grudgingly restoring normality. Meanwhile, having lectured the world about democracy in recent decades, we whiteys (or pinkies?) now find we’re an ethnic minority in a big, wide world where we’re far outnumbered and outclassed. We British think we’re different from Hungarians, but to the rest of the world we’re all Europeans and pretty much similar. Over half of the world’s population is Asian. Things are moving on.

I learned a lot when working with Palestinians – they are socially wealthier while being materially and circumstantially poorer. Their families, clans and communities pretty much hold together, even under extreme duress – and that’s what social wealth looks like. From the late 1960s to the 1990s they lived virtually without government, organising themselves so that everybody was provided for and most essential social functions were catered for from the ground up. A simple consensual rule held sway: help, support and do no harm to fellow Palestinians. Or, for that matter, to anyone deemed a ‘good person’. This included ‘good’ Jews. It’s not about ethnicity or religion – it concerns content of character. Guess what? There was little crime, pretty good road safety and a woman could walk down the street alone at night and feel safe.

A ‘generosity economy’ survives through mutual support and collective adaptation. You need no qualifications to participate or to benefit richly – you just need to do your bit, whatever you can do. It’s not perfect, but in another way it is exemplary. Even in Gaza we have not seen the kind of destitution and social disarray that we sometimes see in other places that plunge into crisis. While Palestinians are always the losers, they are not beaten.

The world – the work of some famous artist whose name escapes me.

From this I learned a big lesson. It wasn’t a case of me, a well-meaning Westerner, a ‘humanitarian’, going out to Palestine to help these poor benighted folk in their dire circumstances. No, I had to get over that one. All I needed to do was to be amongst them, to add my bit when appropriate, to listen a lot and learn from these people. Being fully present was sufficient. Their generosity and sincerity was, at first, button-pressing to me as a European – we’re programmed with a neurotic need to pay for everything. But in Palestine you should never offer to pay if something is ofered or given, because you will deprive a good Muslim of giving you a gift of God – even if they’re poor, with nothing for tomorrow.

Instead, you learn to enter the cycle of mutually-circulatory social generosity and you play an active part in it – keep the benefits moving around. As a relatively rich outsider, you spend thoughtfully and you quietly drop people occasional monetary gifts of God, to help them on their way, simply because it’s good to do so.

However, I had further advantages I could offer. As a European, it was easier for me to level with an Israeli soldier than it was for a Palestinian. I could use my privileged position in the apartheid system to eyeball an Israeli, practice street-level diplomacy and improve the overall outcomes – you see, in a roughly nine-level apartheid system, foreign visitors come in third, just below Ashkenazi and Sephardic Jews, but above the Druze, four kinds of Palestinians and the Bedouin. It’s complex.

Often, the poor soldier was 30-40 years younger than me anyway, doing his or her conscription-slavery, and I pulled age on them. I used my influence as a Westerner to turn round the interaction and calmly hold the power, even though the soldier had the gun. Exploiting the hidden rules of apartheid, I projected an image of a politely self-confident, imperialistic Brit visiting one of his country’s former colonies.

After all, my grandfather was in General Allenby’s invasion force in WW1 when we took Palestine from the Ottomans, and my father fought in Egypt in WW2, and my aunt was a periodic Jew-rescuer – so it could be construed that Israel owes my family a favour, if truth be known. My ruse was that I was an historian interested in studying early Christian fonts. Yeah, me, a Christian – but it worked. Israeli border guards tend to regard Christians as rather stupid, sometimes awkward, but largely harmless.

Of course, to see many of the UN buildings, you have to go on a tour. But there are security issues they do need to stay on top of.

At times these interactions were rather comical. When searching my bags once, they found some plastic-wrapped tofu I’d bought in a healthfood store in Tel Aviv, suspecting it was Semtex… well, it took a few minutes to sort that out (such as reading the Hebrew labelling) and we all landed up chuckling… and, in a better mood, they let me through, waving a load more people through after me. Bingo.

It’s all about societal energy-exchange. In that instance I used my strengths as a Brit to give both the Israelis and the Palestinians what they needed. It works best when there’s some sort of balance of benefit that can equalise both parties – however that benefit is perceived. A change of mood and spirit can make the whole situation flip quite quickly, and the all-round benefit gained often grows greater than the sum of all the individual benefits.

After all, the soldiers at Checkpoint 500 were bored shitless, and the Palestinians standing in line were equally bored, and it just needed the right thing to happen. The magic catalyst was tofu – Romanian-style and marinated. But if I’d reacted to those soldiers as ‘the enemy’, tightening up my body-language and doing oppo, trouble would have ensued and I’d have given away my power – since they did have the guns – and the Palestinians would have got home from work even later than they did.

So, here am I, older and more decrepit, in need of a few hours of help a week, and also for times of company, love and tenderness. These three matter a lot in late life – you might get hugged but real cuddles can be rare. I’m quite self-sufficient, though there are times when I go downhill and I need more intensive help and attention. In recent months a lot has come together on the support front and I am really happy about it: a group of lovely people has come together, and it’s working. Friends of Palden (FoP) – thank you all and bless you. It was a health crisis I had in September that precipitated the change.

For my part, what needed to happen was an opening of my own heart – and the illness and physical pain cracked me open. I had been in a state of emotional recoil for two years, after the sudden and, for me, reluctant end of a loving relationship early in 2022. After that, I wasn’t interested in opening up to others. I’d lost my trust and felt stuck in my hermit-like Saturnine isolation pattern – the ‘anti-social’ thinker and writer with one foot in society and the other in the mountains.

There was something I needed to face – a big and rather final, late-life change – and it took two years to adjust to it emotionally. I’d realised that this was the last close one-to-one relationship I would have in this lifetime. That sounds a bit sad, or dramatic, but no, it isn’t. It’s quite a settled feeling. I’ve had some good relationships over the last half-century, and there’s more to life too. Things have changed. Actually, don’t tell anyone, but it was Ayahuasca wot did it. The focus of my love extends now to a wider circle of people, and I’m playing a new and different role in their lives, and they in mine, whether they’re near or far.

Here we come to energy-exchange. Caring for an new age codger like me can at times be hard work. So I’m working at making it good for everyone, if and however I can. I can’t run around servicing relationships in the way I used to in pre-cancer days, but I can do certain things. I can give a listening ear and sometimes a few astute observations – as a wizzened old retired astrologer who’s figured a few things out. I can give them an hour’s break in a warm, calm, phone-free cabin on a farm in a magical place, with springwater tea and an oakwood fire, so that they can draw a line between the last thing and the next thing, departing a little clearer and more ‘sorted’ than when they came.

There’s something deep to this. It’s about being there for people – it’s the grandfather or patriarch archetype. I don’t have to do anything, and they don’t even need to be with me to benefit from it. It’s just that I’m here, and that in itself is perceived to add something to others’ lives. Spending a lot of time on my own, I range around in my mind, pastorally thinking of people as they pop into my attention, I monitor their souls and pick up on them when they’re unconsciously signalling. They themselves feel supported, deep down. This motivates them to do things that benefit me.

This sounds terribly transactional but, actually, if you keel over with cancer or something similar, or with misfortune, you do have to think transactionally and make sure you’re getting enough of what you need. Otherwise, you won’t get it. You have to be carefully selfish, yet also understanding of others since you’re relying on their goodwill and generosity.

For what it’s worth, ‘elderhood’ is where I now find myself. I’m something of a natural at it, though I’m also somewhat reluctant (I prefer thinking of myself as a veteran). Perhaps I’ve been here and done this before in other lives. It’s all about quietly standing behind people and being there for them. It gives them a certain security whereby, if they feel they’re out of their depth, or fucked off with life, or at their wits’ end, they can anchor back to someone like me, even just in their thoughts.

To which my response is, Yes, that happens, it’s life, it’s okay, hang in there, and the world isn’t ending… though I’d put it more subtly, and much of it lies in the vibe I give out. The fact that I’m standing there is living proof that you can and do survive life’s hard knocks. Or at least, I have, thus far, and perhaps you can too.

It’s not about having opinions and telling people what’s best. There’s a challenge to overcome the reactive, self-satisfied conservatism of age and, from a rather more transcendent, slightly dementia-liberated viewpoint, to think afresh, seeing things from a new place, contributing not opinions but perspectives. But even then, only when asked. Be pleasantly surprised if younger people actually do take heed. Besides, they’re the ones making the decisions now.

So, although I depend on the help, support and company of friends, there’s something I can offer, and this is important. This is ‘social capital’ and if, like me, you haven’t been focusing on building up financial capital, then you need to work on building up social capital, on cultivating your assets, your character and transferable skills. This means that, when you too become relatively useless, with luck you’ll be liked, valued and a little bit useful, even then.

In my life I’ve had phases of organising volunteers to help me run projects I’ve started. While they liked doing it and it brought them benefit, it was also hard work, with a fair measure of wind and rain thrown in. I tried to help them gain a growth-payoff, a soul-payoff, from it. That is, something in them would progress, and some started a new life from that time on. There’s a certain joy in being part of something that works well and is good to be part of.

My father taught me that. He had been in industrial relations in the 1960s-80s and his philosophy was that, if your workers are happy working with you, they’ll be motivated to work well and and everyone will benefit. He’d encourage the directors to eat lunch in the canteen rather than at the golf club, and to avoid driving their Jaguar to work. Sounds obvious, and it’s true, but it was not what was happening in British workplaces at the time, and it does so only for some workers now. It’s how a generosity economy works, in which everyone is a stakeholder and beneficiary, together.

It’s about ‘we‘, not ‘I‘. However, while the relationship of ‘I’ to ‘we’ is still important, in the end ‘we’ are the overriding priority, and each of us needs to learn to do the best we can with that, as individuals.

Pluto is now in Aquarius. We need now to focus on strengthening society. Not the economy, not technology, not government, not business, but society and the mechanisms by which it works.

Do people exist to serve the system, or does the system exist to serve the people?

Pluto likes to dig out the bottom-line hard truths of things, and this is the big question for at least the next twenty years.

There’s something substructural going on. In richer countries, our time is done, our economies are subsiding and we’ve got to get real about this. It is a necessary historic adjustment of economic levels. For Britain, Europe and America real wealth-generation is sinking, overall costs, complications and debts are rising, and things are approaching a crunchpoint.

We in rich countries are not enjoying treading the mill of work and consumption as we once did. We’re supposed to be excited about the latest gizmo, scientific discovery or tech advance, but many of them arouse mainly a yawn. We’ve reached a certain level of satiation. There’s now a deep-level exhaustion, a declining motivation to bust a gut for what might anyway prove to be dubious outcomes. There’s an element of laziness and decadence to this, yes, but it’s also genuine, deep down. We’re discovering a need to become more human and for society to become more humane.

This historic shift will affect Millennials and currently younger people as you grow old. Compared with my (Pluto in Leo) postwar generation, you have more inherent social wealth than we, with a greater sense of implicit togetherness, and this is driving a deep reconstitution of society that is only now gaining momentum.

There is a fundamental law of economics that few mention, yet it’s abidingly true: when the economy goes up, society goes down, and when the economy goes down, society goes up. We’re at an inflection point in this oscillatory equation.

When you yourselves are old, there might be care-bots to help you, and there will still be people who hold society together by acting as committed care-givers, but there’s unlikely to be the capacity to finance the full care and medical facilities that we have today. So this needs tackling another way, especially by building up social wealth.

Here we return to people like Palestininans with their family survival mechanisms – and most Mediterranean cultures are (or were) like this. They have families often of fortyish people, young and old, which are part of a larger clan that can number hundreds or thousands. The old people and the kids spend a lot of time together, often at the centre of the compound where everyone lives, freeing up middle-aged people to do their daily duties. The older kids look after the younger kids, both look after the old people, and the old people oversee the kids. People come and sit for a chat and a cup of tea, then to continue on their way. It’s an integrated system with the oldsters and the youngsters at the centre. Everyone does something toward the family, to the extent that they can, and someome is usually available to step in with a solution if there is a need.

Western researchers would come to Palestine, finding unemployment levels standing at 20-30%, yet no one was hanging around looking unemployed. This was simply the generosity economy at work – lots of people had no paid job, but they had a place in the family and community economy – and it doesn’t show up in the statistics. Everyone is catered for and everyone contributes. In Bethlehem, a little boy would help me with runaround tasks and occasionally I’d give him some loose change, and he’d run home to give it to his Mum because it was more important to him to contribute to his family than to sneak off to the sweetshop to feed his face.

This is the way to go. It lies in social values. So teach your children well. To get through the future, countries like Britain need to work on social wealth and resilience. Social love and solidarity. Hanging together. Making life easier for each other. Sharing lifts. Keeping an eye out for each other.

That’s not as easy as it sounds, because it involves dealing with disagreement – what’s politely called ‘diversity’. In the 2020s we’re pretty good at arguing, disagreeing and detracting, pretty unwilling to hear others’ viewpoints, or even to acknowledge that they’re actually real, valid people, just like us. We have issues about who’s in and who’s out. There’s a lot of shadow stuff lurking in the social psyche – trust issues, historic pain and resentment, unresolved questions, pending problems.

Migration is one of those issues we have to face because it is happening anyway, and we have to get sensible about it. It is changing our societies and we need to do this well. We can’t evade the facts, pretending that we can stop it or send people home – it’s happening, and we in rich countries have been a substantial part of the cause. We cannot supply munitions to Israel and expect Palestinians to stay at home without seeking refuge in Manchester – sorry, that’s two-faced, narrow, poor thinking, and if such thinking were applied to you, you’d hate it. Yet, on the other hand, we need to take in numbers that we can realistically absorb, so that there are enough housing, teachers, facilities and space to cater for them, to give them what they need and to get what we need too – and this is a very real issue without easy answers. It brings up quite primal emotions – it’s not solely socio-logical.

My generation failed, when it reached its sixties, to pool its capital and engage in creating mutual support systems for late life. We didn’t think we would actually get old. Those of us who have done well financially do what we can to enjoy our position, and the rest of us get by as best we can. Our sense of generational fairness and equality has been compromised by incentives and bonuses that have successfully splintered us. We might disapprove of businessmen getting stinking rich, though strangely we nevertheless believe it’s kinda okay for a rock musician to own five houses, a stack of glossy, carbon-belching sports cars and an art portfolio for which the insurance can cost a quarter million. [Even so, here’s a perceptive song from one of them, Roger Waters: Is this the Life We Really Want?]

This kind of thing is not really good for the future – unless of course we permit it, allowing an oligarchy to burn up resources while we dutifully catch the battery-bus to save energy. World circumstances are changing, and if the excesses of the past are to continue into the future, then you Millennials have a problem before you. And here’s an awkward question (sorry): do you want to leave this problem to your children, as my generation has done with you? Or will changing circumstances and shifting values perhaps force the issue before you reach that point?

Strengthening society – from the bottom up. To face the future we need to build social resilience. This means looking after each other and sharing what’s available and what we have. It means pitching in together when there are floods, pandemics, economic downturns, supply-line blockages, power-brownouts and gaps on the supermarket shelves. Governments and institutions can certainly facilitate the process, but it needs to come from ordinary people.

In 2025 Neptune enters Aries for 14 years. This is about Big Men and our neurotic need, during insecure times, for leaders who will fix things for us and keep control. This is why we have Putins, Trumps, Modis and Xis dominating the world and holding it to ransom. We need to overcome this illusion. However, the real issue here is not about getting rid of leaders – that’s something we’re generations away from, realistically.

It’s about right leadership and – more important – astute, intelligent, thoughtful citizens who think a bit further than our noses, and who don’t allow populists and pranksters to capture our support and run off with the agenda. Perhaps we also need to support and respect our leaders a bit more, holding them to account but with more empathy and understanding – it’s a lonely and shitty job, with plenty of holes to fall into and minefields to navigate. The worst bit is that, even if you’re a great reformer, someone, somewhere, gets hurt and loses out.

During this Neptune in Aries period we might also see some exemplary, Mandela-esque leaders. To quote Georges Pompidou, a French politician of the 1970s (in old sexist language): “A statesman is a politician who places himself at the service of the nation. A politician is a statesman who places the nation at his service“.

One such leader I’m watching at present is the prime minister of Barbados, Mia Mottley – she’s lucid, justice-seeking, solid, with a good sense of proportion, likeable, and she’s the sort of person who, with luck, will leave a good track record behind her. [Click here to see her recent UN General Assembly speech.]

Leaders can catalyse helpful social processes – at least for their first ten years in office – but it is not for them to determine our future. Society needs to take control of itself. We need to train ourselves to form, develop and hold to social consensus, to make fair deals between competing interests, to stand back from sectoral disagreements and responsibly to keep hold of the power and influence that society itself should hold. Government is important as a coordinating influence, but placing responsibility for fixing society on government and institutions inevitably leads to a disjunction of values and aims between oligarchies and ordinary people.

Since the demographic pyramid currently favours the old, weighing quite heavily on the young, we oldies need to pull together to look after each other to lighten the load. We have resources. We don’t need a paid carer to come in to make a cup of tea and hold our hand when a friend, a neighbour or a grandchild is far better. We need professional help only in those things that we cannot do ourselves – I can keep my house in good shape on a daily basis, but I find vacuum-cleaning physically difficult. I can mostly cook for myself, but there are occasions when I’m worn out and really appreciate the application of someone else’s culinary gifts.

Being rendered into a passive recipient of care – especially in old people’s homes – is disempowering, dispiriting and it costs a bomb. It’s healthy to keep going with the daily tasks that we can do – and it’s far more healing to do it with and for others, not just for ourselves. And a single oldie doesn’t need a whole house to live in – I live in a one-room cabin where it’s just five steps from my bed to my kitchen, and it’s great! Let’s liberate our oversized homes for people who truly need them.

Social capital. The strongest social bonding force is crisis. When a society goes through a crisis, triumphing over the odds by sharing and cooperating, the social ring of power gains strength. It’s a transpersonal feeling, a feeling of being in it together and being mutually reliant and reinforcing. It is in the interests of oligarchies meanwhile to keep society splintered, dissonant and competitive. The social ring of power is activated when collective resonance and solidarity rise and hold firm – and this is why organisations like Hamas and Hezbollah are unbeatable, since you can bomb them out as much as you like but the need for such movements doesn’t go away. So they remain and revive, even when shot to pieces.

But solidarity can be dangerous if social blindness or denial is tangled up in it. When at war, Israelis have remarkable national solidarity, but the big question is, toward what ultimate end? Israelis need a safe homeland where they can pursue their lives in peace. Yet, feeling the world to be against them, they do tend to create conflict around themselves – and this is an example of the way a people can be captured by an oligarchy which harnesses and exploits their solidarity for narrow, ultimately unwise ends – in this case, it’s Zionism, but Israel is not the only place where such things happen. But for Israelis, subservience to Zionist aims and values leads to a situation where war is needed as a way of generating solidarity – national unity in an otherwise rather culturally-argumentative country. Here herd mentality fails to serve the true and lasting interests of the whole herd. Israelis will find peace when they become friends with their neighbours. Period. And so it is worldwide.

The initiative lies with people at ground level. It concerns cultivating the wisdom of crowds. Often this happens through encountering nexus-points of occasion and crisis where there are opportunities for social healing, for the airing and resolution of unprocessed social issues. In Britain we’ve just had a rumpus over ‘assisted dying’ – a rumpus because we have a cultural fear of death and an unwillingness to even think about it, so we start panicking when we’re forced to.

There’s also the possibility of a future characterised by the madness of crowds and a lack of societal connectedness, leading amongst other things to the marginalisation of the old and the unwell by the fit and the healthy. The solution to the ‘problem’ of the old and infirm is a fundamental reconstitution of society. And perhaps this escalating social crisis is a gift in disguise. The crunch will come when our economies can no longer support the standards we have become used to.

Good luck, you lot, in addressing a problem I don’t think my own generation has cracked. We need to look after each other a lot more, and to get into proportion what’s really abidingly important in life. Because, believe me, at the end of my life it’s not the pounds, shillings and pence that I earned and spent that I remember – it’s the closenesses I’ve had with fellow humans, the magic moments and the rustling of the leaves in the trees.

With love from me, Palden

http://www.palden.co.uk
https://penwithbeyond.blog
http://www.palden.co.uk/podcasts.html

The pictures are from trips I made to Geneva in Switzerland (an incredibly expensive place) 12-14 years ago – one of the UN capitals. As you might gather, I’m distinctly internationalist in my geopolitics!

AND… the Sunday Meditation continues every week… details are here: www.palden.co.uk/meditations.html

Lord Balfour’s Blooper

Twelve years ago I wrote a piece in one of my Palestine blogs about the British period of occupation of Palestine. For some of you, it might throw some light and perspective on how this mess in the East Mediterranean all started.

This morning I fell upon it and it struck me that it might be useful re-posting it now.

So, if it interests you, try this (it’s a five minute read):

http://www.palden.co.uk/pop/balfour.html

It’s a chapter from one of the three Palestine books I wrote back then. This chapter is from ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem‘, a book that hasn’t been published in print but it’s available as a PDF, as is ‘Blogging in Bethlehem‘. ‘Pictures of Palestine‘ was published in print though. They’re all available through the PoP site.

With love, Palden

Changing the World

Life-purpose and Activism

Here’s the audio recording of my recent Aha Class in Penzance, about participating in changing the world. It’s my thoughts on the realities of being a ‘world server’, about rattling the bars of our cages and contributing to furthering what we believe to be right.

It’s in two 50 minute parts, with some (I hope) interesting anecdotes thrown in, about the dilemmas, tests, magic moments and benefits we can encounter along the way.

Free to listen and download – no strings. You’ll find it here:

http://www.palden.co.uk/ahanotes-activism.html

The next Aha Class is about time, timing and power points in time.

With love from me, Palden.

Bearing Witness

I’m away for two weeks, at the Oak Dragon Camp (I was its founder nearly 40 years ago) and speaking at the Glastonbury Symposium – so you won’t be hearing from me for a while! Recently I’ve been rendering my cancer book Blessings that Bones Bring into audiobook format, and that’s now complete.

Just in case you were desperate for something to read, haha, here’s a chapter from my 2012 book O Little Town of Bethlehem – Christmas in God’s Holy Land (here). Compared with the situation now, Palestine in 2011 was much better but, even then, people were beset with issues to deal with, and this excerpt gives some examples. It’s also about one of the key activities a foreigner visiting Palestine needs to be willing to do – listening. Bearing witness.

In the streets of Bethlehem, December 2011

When I went to town to check out various friends, many of them were gloomy, beset with problems. It was one of those days. Each person had their own particular issues, but they all add up to a morass of collective difficulty which the customary Palestinian good humour cannot penetrate.

Naturally, our perception of life is made up of an interaction of circumstances and our feelings about them, and these are two rather different things. For Palestinians living under occupation, the circumstances side of the equation bites and scrapes harder than for most people across the world. Especially since the occupiers deliberately go about making life difficult, complex and insecure for the occupied, in military, administrative, legal and quite everyday ways. This is what Jeff Halper, a critical Israeli thinker, calls ‘the matrix of control’. The ultimate goal is to make Palestinians submit to Israeli rule, give up, go quiet and preferably leave the country.

But they don’t give up, despite the muddy mire of problems they can be beset with – or perhaps it’s a dust-storm where it’s impossible to see far and sand gets in the engine and all the moving parts. Palestinians have a life-philosophy which is admirable. But some days they go down into the doldrums and they need a good moan.

That’s one of the roles of foreigners who come here: bearing witness. This often means letting Palestinians have a good moan, describing to you with a full spectrum of feeling how difficult everything is. It can be quite challenging though if you have something in your own life that’s nagging you too – happily, this wasn’t the case for me today. So I was able to listen fully and, when a person ground to a halt, I could start up something that might change the context of things, so that they see the situation in a different way – for the difference between a situation and a problem lies in our state of heart and mind.

There’s a Christian grocer in town who stocks a lot of things I like, so I went to his place. While wandering around looking through the densely, intricately packed shelves, a guy comes in and starts up. I don’t understand much Arabic, but the tone of his voice translated easily – he was on a down day, overwhelmed. He and the grocer were so engaged in this man’s inventory of problems that I had to stand there patiently waiting to pay, listening too.

Little did he know, but in the process I did a little psychic healing on this man – smoothing out his aura, shifting the movement of his energy and the orientation of his aura from downward to upward and reconnecting him with his guardian angel. After a while, the grocer turned, noticed me, apologised and started totting up my buys. Suddenly, his friend said to him (it could have been), “And guess what…?”. The grocer grunted, to say go on, and the guy burst out laughing and said something. The grocer turns to me and said, “He tell me all these problem, and now he say his wife just got pregnant again – fifth. He say only now. Why not before, eh?”. Well, looks like the healing did something to loosen things up.

With goods in hand, I wandered off down Faraheih Street, turned left through the market, to be how-arre-youed and wherre-you-frommed by stall-keepers as I strolled past. Mid-afternoon, they were all sitting around wondering whether to close for siesta.

I’m always amazed that being British is regarded positively by Palestinians, despite what we’ve done in the past. Announcing Britaniyya to them always seems to elicit a good response. Perhaps they think we’re less bad than others, therefore good. Just as well. A Danish guy I met a few days ago had complained that Denmark is notorious for offensive cartoons of the Prophet Mohammed, and he often had to prove to people that he didn’t agree with it.

Down the passageway and some steps leading from the market I was accosted by a sweet-seller. He asked how arre you, as they do, and I joked back hamdulillah – thanks God (I’m okay). It was a joke because, last time I was here, I couldn’t manage responses in Arabic. He has a hand-pushed cart parked at the top of the main steps down toward the Omar Mosque and Manger Square. Palestinian sweets are gooey, rich, soft cakes of honey, almond and who knows what, often eaten by dropping a cubic inch of the stuff straight into the mouth and swilling it down with coffee. I got some, in order to augment my weight-gain programme. Yes, folks, one of the ways I differ from many people is that I’m thin and bony, so I actually have to eat calorie-rich things to gain weight.

I then proceeded down the steps and met up with a shopkeeper I know who was sorely troubled by the lack of trade. The pilgrim and tourist business is down and the Israelis have creamed off most of the business. Most visitors come in shepherded groups for just a few hours in an Israeli coach from Jerusalem, visiting the Church of the Nativity and an approved souvenir shop, from which 30% of the takings are paid to the Israeli tour operators. Then they’re shuttled back to Jerusalem. The Israelis have niftily captured the income from Bethlehem’s pilgrimage tourism.

Independent travellers who arrive here – not exactly in floods – tend to run on a tight budget, so they aren’t big consumers. Norwegians seem to be the richest at present. Instead of money, these visitors mainly bring ‘witness’ and interaction, a social currency, worth perhaps more than money, if truth be known.

The shopkeeper complained that he had made only 100 shekels today – about £20 or $30. He thrust tea before me and carried on. Usually he has quite positive attitude, but this time he was struggling. I let him run with it, and it did him good. It does give them some assurance to be able to offload like this and to gain some understanding from another person – it helps them objectivise their lives.

Then I went round the corner to a café run by Adnan’s brother. I had falafel, hummus, pitta, salad and sage tea, as a late lunch. In came Adnan, plonking himself straight down and huffing. He starts up. His story is always complex, but he’s in the tourist souvenir trade too and he’s almost bankrupt. I know some of the things he could do to improve things (such as trading on eBay), and I have told him about them, but he doesn’t get it. He perpetually hopes things will work well next time, things will get better, but they don’t. Or someone else is making his life difficult and he wishes they would stop. So I usually let him blurt out his complaints, in the hope that some relief of pressure might lead him to form new conclusions.

The souvenirs he sells are lovely – especially if you’re a Christian. Lovely hand-carved olive-wood effigies of Jesus, Mary, the saints and the Nativity. Bedouin carpets, lovely Arabic dresses, inlaid boxes – all made within a few miles of here. But they don’t sell, the overheads are high, the checkpoints scare visitors away and, if your spirits are down, it’s a disaster.

Round and round in loops he goes. Adnan requires perseverance because he’s quite resistant. It’s the world that’s wrong, not him. But he appreciates the listening ear anyway, and soon we were talking about other things – mainly about the carpets his grandmother had diligently woven throughout her life, adorning the floors of many of his vast Bedouin family’s network of homes. Well, that’s that done. Now to see Jack, down in the Christian Quarter.

Jack is not a complainer, but he is in a sorry state. One year ago he had a major accident at work, fracturing his skull, haemorrhaging his brain and breaking some ribs. Then his wife, who had suffered MS, had died. Understandably, he had plummeted. His capacity to work is now much reduced, though he carries on all the same. He’s 52 and worn out. He works as a security guard for UNRWA, and he also clears out old wells and builds walls for a living. His spare-time obsession is billiards – his friends come round to play. He’s a real character – altruistic, humorous, maverick, but nowadays much faded. I cannot tell whether this is a low patch of life, or whether he’s on his way to dying. Bless him.

But he doesn’t moan. In fact, we started up a really good conversation, but it was still about his difficulties. He talked about how, at the bottom of some wells – many of them centuries old, some millennia old – there is no air and he has sometimes nearly suffocated. In a few others there are underground toxic flows of petrol or sewage, which he refuses to work with. At his work at UNRWA a few days ago, he was caught sleeping – not a good thing for a security guard – and given a warning. But they seem to like him too.

Jack, Catholic wheelchair smuggler, in happier days

But then he started up telling his stories of former days. There was one time he took his wife to an Israeli hospital without having a permit. He managed to get her in by a combination of charm, bluster and play-acting and then, having sat with her for hours, made his way home. But in the lift he had a heart attack – he was found lying there by a doctor, who rushed him to a ward and saved him. When Jack came to, the doctor came to visit him and simply said, with a wry smile, “Next time, get a permit if you’re going to have a heart attack, won’t you?” The doctor fixed him a lift to a checkpoint, to get back home. You do indeed get remarkable acts of compassion in this strangely conflicted country.

Jack’s son came in, looking really annoyed – fuming, in fact. I understood he had had an argument with his sister in his grandmother’s house next door. He’s 21 and quite a special young guy – plays Liszt and Chopin on the piano and works with computer hardware – but he had recently flunked his mathematics at college and, for reasons I couldn’t quite fathom, could not re-take the exam. Which meant he couldn’t go to university, and they couldn’t afford it anyway. So he was in a state.

He sat there listening – his English is good – and then he perked up when he told me about the free trip he had had with the Salesian Brothers (a Catholic order) to see the Pope in Spain, visiting Italy on the way. He was selected from a large crowd of applicants and he was away for three weeks. He’s a Sagittarian, our Shukry, and travelling the world is what he would love to do – but he’s imprisoned behind walls instead, living in a world-famous city, Bethlehem, that’s strangely isolated. If I could wave a magic wand I’d love to fix him three years at the Royal College of Music in London. He deserves it, and his frustration at getting nowhere in life was probably the underlying cause of his argument with his sister.

Jack was falling asleep. The drugs the doctor had given him to deal with the after-effects of his brain haemorrhage last year make him drowsy. I told him to get to bed instead of forcing himself to stay awake. “Yes, doctor”, he replied, and we parted company. I made my way out, walking back through the narrow stone streets of the Old Town to Manger Square. Another shopkeeper tried waylaying me but, by this time, I was tired and I didn’t want tea. I wanted a taxi home.

But even then, the taxi-driver, whom I knew from previous years, had a tale to tell. One of his children had died – I think about a month ago. Of what, I don’t know, because the word he gave me was in Arabic. In limited English he said he had not had enough money for the hospital. I could tell by the tone of his voice he was cut up about it, probably feeling like a failed father.

When we got to the school at Al Khader, I asked him how much he wanted for the trip. Thirty, he said – the evening rate (usually it’s twenty shekels). I only had 25 in change, and otherwise only a 200 shekel note (£40), which he couldn’t change. So I dug around in my bag, leafing through my carefully-stashed collection of Euros, Swiss Francs, Pounds, Kronor and Dinars to find him a Jordanian ten dinar note. He smiled. This was worth 50 shekels. “God bless you, Mister Balden. I like you. Thanks God. Ma’assalam.” The only trouble is, I’m not a banker or an oil sheikh, but it was worth it – even a bit of money can raise the spirits sometimes.

Sometimes I wonder what good I bring by being here. It’s as if the mountain of life-obstacles people experience in this place is too large for someone like me to make a difference. But then, as the Dalai Lama is quoted to have said: “If you think you’re too small to make a difference, try spending a night in a room with a mosquito”.

This young chap is now around 20 – as he’s grown up life has got worse, and I find myself wondering how he’s dealing with it.

With love, Palden
http://www.palden.co.uk

A Blog about a Blog

This is interesting. It’s written by an old friend who is himself involved with helping out in a freelance-humanitarian sense with Gaza. But this is something that anyone involved in conflict resolution, or in any kind of change-bringing commitment, needs to ask themselves: what is it that drives me to do this?

https://mike-scialom.medium.com/born-and-raised-in-egypt…

It came up for me too. In my case, my maternal grandfather was in General Allenby’s British invasion force in Palestine in WW1, my father was in Egypt in WW2, and I have Roma and German (though not Jewish) ancestry – Holocaust stuff. That’s what I’ve identified in myself that hooked me into it.

But also, growing up in a polarised and violent city, Liverpool, in the 1960s, played its part – overcoming the effects in myself of being bullied in early life. We teach best what we ourselves have had to learn.

If you have a bee in your bonnet about particular issues, driving you into activism, it’s worth looking into your ancestral background and your history. It can help make it all more conscious.

Many Palestine and other activists would do well to look at the emotional source in themselves of their despair, anger and commitment, because this will help them become more effective, tactical and compassionate in pursuing their vision.

It’s important because issues like this will not be resolved overnight. Yes, a ceasefire has been needed and is still needed, but a ceasefire without resolution of fundamentals might not be the best thing. Sad to say, sometimes the horror has to get worse, until a point comes where peace and resolution are the only options left.

We need to own up to the perverse fact that many of us worry about Gaza and similar places only when blood and horror happen, impinging on our comfort-zones. But actually, the reason why blood and horror happen rests on causes that are brewed and fermented during quieter times. If we’re going to succeed in a mission such as peacemaking of conflicts that have deep roots, it has to be sustained in the longterm.

And here’s an awkward truth. If campaigning for our beliefs polarises society, then we shall fail. Because if others have different beliefs, thinking of them as nasty ‘them’ people itself lies at the root of conflict. People who are anti-anything, who wish to ban things or people, and who dehumanise people with different viewpoints, become part of the problem they’re sincerely trying to resolve.

We really are all in this together, if we wish to resolve the fundamental issues that the world faces today. Peace will not come, and ecological and societal issues will not be resolved, unless we all work together.

This is not idealistic thinking. It is a very real socio-political issue. If we don’t get through this in the coming decades – global consensus-forming – then we’re fucked, really. War arises from polarisation, and there is little value in trying to stop war or save our world by polarising society.

Working to overcome polarisation and build bridges makes things more difficult. It means we must work longer and harder on this. It means we are challenged to walk our talk more consistently and for longer.

When the shooting and dismay stop, if everyone just goes home, back to normality, then peace will not come, because the matter is not sorted. And in this century we really need to sort things out, changing and ending the patterns of centuries and millennia.

That’s my thought for the day. However, there’s something else too – a new podcast.

ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE | HUMAN INTELLIGENCE

I recorded this in January and completely forgot about it! That was a memory question. And that’s why it’s coming out now. I remembered.

Jean Piaget once said that intelligence is not about what we know, but what we do when we don’t know. How we figure things out when we’re in new territory or out of our depth.

The problem with AI is that it works by drawing on data and on what is known, on memory, and on the way things have happened thus far.

That’s not true intelligence. Human intelligence is better at dealing with the unknown. That is, if we humans act intelligently – which we do only occasionally.

So AI is unlikely to be as wondrous in its problem-solving capacities as tech-bedazzled AI cultists would like us to believe.

And there’s a hidden twist here concerning human intelligence – it’s in the podcast! Recorded in January 2024, down by an old silted-up millpond in the stream below our farm. 27 mins long.

With love, Palden.

Listen to it here:
https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/vSPHJFc1FJb

or go to my podcast page here:
www.palden.co.uk/podcasts.html

Irtas, Bethlehem, in the West Bank of Palestine

Hope Flowers School

The Israeli army blocks the gate to the school

In my audiobook and various of my postings you’ll have heard of Hope Flowers School in Bethlehem, Palestine (here’s a brief intro). I used to work there.

Here’s a newsletter from Ibrahim Issa, the school’s director. It gives a taste of what it’s like running a school in occupied Palestine at present.

With love, Palden

—————————-

Dear Friends,

Thank you for all your support and solidarity with the Hope Flowers School (HFS). I am trying through this letter, to share with you what happened on 6 December 2023 at the HFS. It is a bit long; I believe that some of you have received a big number of pictures and videos on that day.

It is almost 21 years ago, when James Bennet wrote an article in the New York Times about HFS: “Arab Coexistence school falls victim to violence” you can read this article on: https://www.nytimes.com/…/arab-coexistence-school-falls…

Between December 2002 and December 2023, HFS battle for Peace continues.

The school-day at HFS starts early in the morning. Children and staff start arriving at 07:15 A.m. It is quite difficult to predict the day and whether clashes between Palestinians and Israeli army will erupt that day. Clashes could erupt at any moment of the day. HFS staffs have to be prepared to act in case any violence erupts at a sudden.

On Wednesday, December 6th 2023, in my way to HFS at 7:15 AM. I have to pass Deheisha refugee camp and Al Khader village. In my way I found tens of Israeli military vehicles and armed personal carriers about to enter the refugee camp and the village. Despite military presence on the way, but I managed to reach HFS at 07:30 A.m. The neighborhood of HFS was quite. I did not see any Israeli soldiers in the neighborhood.

I started to receive calls at about 07:45 from HFS staff that they could not reach the school because of Israeli army presence and clashes between the army and Palestinians. So we decided to start the school day with the absence of two staff members who could not reach the school.

At 8:30 am, I was in my way from HFS to another meeting. On the corner of the school, I was stopped by tens of Israeli soldiers who were just arriving to the street and started to block the road with large concrete blocks using a bulldozer. The soldiers were very tense, especially I found myself with my car surrounded by big number of soldiers. The one soldier asked me to continue driving while another asked me to return backwards to HFS. I decided to stay unmoved because of unclearity in soldiers demands. Any wrong movement at this situation may be interpreted as an attack on soldiers and could kill me.

At this moment a military vehicle stopped next to me and there was apparently the commander of the unit. I talked to him in English and explained the situation that one soldier is asking to drive backwards and the other is asking me to drive forwards, I asked him if I could drive backwards (back to HFS), but he refused and asked me to continue driving forwards. He also instructed the soldiers to allow me moving forwards. I also told the army officer that I am a principle of a school located on the corner, and that I have 350 children aged 4-13 years old right now in the school with some children with special needs, and that I would appreciate if the army could give me 30 minutes to evacuate the school before they enter further in the neighborhood. The commander refused and he told me that in one hour they will finish their operation and that the army will reopen the road.

I cancelled my meeting and decided to stay nearby the HFS. I immediately called the staff at the HFS and asked them to take all measures (according to emergency plan) to protect the children and staff at the school and warned them that soldiers are in the neighborhood near the school.

At about 09:00 I received a call from vice-principle of HFS informing me that soldiers are near the school and that few armored vehicles have blocked the school parking and the main gate of the school and that leaving the school or entering the school is not possible.

At 09:10 I received another call informing me that children with autism spectrum disorder (32 out of 358) are terrified and that social workers and staff need help to calm them down. Then I continued to receive calls from HFS informing me that children are totally in panic after soldiers started to fire teargas and heard of sounds of explosions nearby HFS due to clashing with Palestinian youth outside the HFS.

At this point I asked teachers and all staff of HFS to pay attention for the physical safety of children and to avoid sitting beside windows or even trying to look outside from the windows. I also informed the education department in Bethlehem that we have an emergency at HFS and explained the situation inside the HFS.

Everyone was concerned that the situation will get worse especially that some schools in Bethlehem and in the West Bank have encountered similar problems in the past few weeks.

Some children have reacted strongly to fear like inability to breathe, others were crying, etc. Therefore, I asked the health department to help sending ambulances to help the staff to deal with stressed and fearful children at HFS. Indeed, 6 ambulances from Palestine Red Crescent Society arrived few minutes later, but the Israeli army prevented the ambulances to reach the HFS justifying that the area is “a military closed area”.

At this moment I started to realize the danger that children are in and started to call the Palestinian-Israeli military coordination office and asked them to speak to the Israeli military to allow the ambulances to reach the school. I decided to call other international organizations and asked them to urgently reach out for Israeli army to allow ambulances to reaching HFS.

The Israeli army has finally agreed to allow the ambulances to reach the school and finally allowed me to get back to the school in one of the ambulances. A detailed inspection of each ambulance was conducted by the army before it was allowed to move ahead. All ambulances were accompanied by an Israeli patrol.

At HFS, children were extremely fearful; in addition we were concerned that clashes between Palestinian and Israelis will erupt further.

Therefore, in consultation with the paramedics in the ambulances, we decided that it would be better to evacuate the whole school and take children to transport children to a safer place. The ambulances started to transport groups of children (maximum 10 in each ambulance accompanied by one teacher) to a nearby hospital.

Due to intensity of the situation, the general director of the education department arrived at HFS with one of the ambulances to support HFS’s staff and children. With the heroic work of paramedics of the Red Crescent society we managed to get all children and staff out safely.

A neighbour got shot. Well, he might have thrown stones at soldiers twenty years ago in the intifada, but he doesn’t have to die for that. He was just protecting his home.

During the evacuation, it was clear that a ‘demolition order’ was being carried out, and three neighbors’ houses right next to the school were razed to the ground by heavy demolition machines. Much violence was used by the army. Soldiers tried to prevent photos or videos from being taken, neighbors’ and teachers’ phones were roughly taken and broken. Three neighbors were injured, one seriously, he was shot in the head.

Some children have seen this happen. Hundreds of parents have heard about evacuation of the school. Parents started to reach the area of the school asking about their children. They were very scared. We asked parents to wait in hospital, you can imagine hundreds of parents were waiting every ambulance to arrive to see of their child/ren is/ are being safe. At the end of this difficult day, three families were left homeless, three people are injured, one of whom is in danger of life, and hundreds of children are further traumatized.

The impact of this violence on children, families is immense.

Teachers and counselors at HFS will have lots of extra work to do in trauma care in the weeks and months to come. It is therefore as urgent as ever that HFS work continue to provide trauma counseling for children and their families. We are very thankful for all of you who helped us on December 6th and many thanks for your solidarity and support to HFS.

The trauma counseling program at HFS aims to:

• To provide help for the children at the school and for families in Bethlehem to address the effects of the downward-spiralling cycle of violence and trauma that has arisen from violence and the occupation, and to remove the basis for future hostile behaviour.

• To create a model for wider use in Palestinian schools, to become a centre of excellence and dissemination for psychological support for people of the West Bank, and to share our accumulated knowledge and experience with the wider world.

Your support to HFS and trauma counseling program will be highly appreciated. Our battle for peace will continue!

Best regards,
Ibrahim Issa,
Director of HFS.
hopeflowers@palnet.com
www.hopeflowers.org
Cell: +972(0)599294355

Blogging in Bethlehem

An audiobook about life in the West Bank of Palestine
www.palden.co.uk/audiobook.html

The first two audio instalments of my 2011 book Blogging in Bethlehem are now available, and the remaining five will come out once a week over winter (inshallah). The written version is available too.

I hope you enjoy them. It’s free, no strings.

Well, that lot took 20 hours to make, but I got through it quite quickly. That’s one advantage of hyperfocus and living alone. Rain drumming on the roof has stopped play for now. Just as well, really – I had my cancer treatment yesterday/Weds and I’m all floppy and wobbly.

I’m enjoying doing it though. The story comes from better times in Palestine in 2011, but it gives a sense of real life and some of the positive things happening there, and the social and cultural strengths of Palestinians. I miss friends there and would love to go back, but this is beyond my physical scope and financial ability now. So this is a way to be with them in spirit.

With love, Palden

The Christ Mass

Reindeer, Kvikkjokk, Sapmi (Swedish Lappland)

It’s funny. I’ve always had a strange allergy to Christmas. In recent weeks I’ve been looking into this issue. What is bizarre is that I have lived in the Baltic region – the source of Father Christmas and sleighbells – and also in Bethlehem – the source of the Christ-is-born part of the package. So I’ve lived in the source-places of Christmas but I’m not particularly into it. Well, we all have our weird pathologies.

I have fond memories of both places – of genuine sleighbells (except on horses pulling sledges through the snow-bedecked forest), and of crowds of the devout in Manger Square, Bethlehem, during the three Christmases they have (Catholic, Orthodox and Armenian) at roughly two-week intervals. When I was in Bethlehem one Christmas I wrote a blog about it all. The town customarily welcomes 100,000 visitors for the Christmas Pilgrimage, and often it’s utter madness in town. It’s not happening this year: Palestinians are really downhearted, in no mood for celebrating the birth of a holy child, or celebrating anything.

I’ve asked myself why I have this Yuletide allergic reaction. In my case, part of the answer is Asperger’s Syndrome – ‘Wrong Planet Syndrome’. It’s an inherent feeling of outsideness, and it brings both benefits and problems. It’s a bit like the day you land in a foreign country: you understand nothing of the language and you experience the funky quirks of that country with the eye of an outsider – like the smelly toilets in Austria, the crooked telegraph poles in USA, or the way that Australian wildlife is busily noisy in the night and quiet during the day, or the sheer colourful intensity and olfactory richness of India, or the foot-washing places outside mosques in Jordan.

Another factor was the Christmases we had in our rather dysfunctional family. I couldn’t stand the pressure to ‘behave myself’ and to eat food I didn’t really like. Things got more interesting when I was around age eleven, when my parents started inviting three or four foreign students from the School of Tropical Medicine in Liverpool to our house for Christmas Day. Suddenly I was meeting people from Uganda, India, Hong Kong, Egypt and Barbados. But even then I was frustrated because we had to enact the Christmas rituals and suffer the stomachic consequences instead of getting into far more interesting things… and meanwhile my mother worked her socks off, not enjoying Christmas at all, and getting annoyed with my father, my brother or me for reasons I never fully understood.

I’d stand there thinking ‘Why can’t we make this easier and have a good time together without all this fuss and bother?‘. But relentlessly, each year, it had to be done. I never quite figured out why. So perhaps that’s a cause of my allergy.

In Bethlehem, as a lifelong vegetarian, it was always a bit difficult passing the meat market – another rich olfactory experience. I turned vegetarian long ago in 1971 and, for fortyish years, people would regard folks like me as strange and awkward, missing something important in life. In Palestine I got away with it by saying it was part of my religion – and that’s something they easily accept and oblige. However, to a vegetarian, being vegetarian is a perfectly logical and sound way of behaving and conducting one’s life. Being an Aspie is rather like that – you’re regarded as strange, abnormal and in need of correction, while from your own minority viewpoint the world around you is incomprehensible and crazy.

An Indonesian Christian rock band, Manger Square, Bethlehem

Yet Aspergers is not a programming error – it’s a different operating system. I believe it’s not really a ‘spectrum’ issue either – to me, that’s a neurotypical excuse for not really understanding what’s going on. The way I see it, you’re either an Aspie or you aren’t, since this concerns operating systems, and the spectrum bit relates to an Aspie’s capacity to adjust, or not, to the world around – what’s called the ‘Aspie mask’. How well we adjust depends a lot on how we were brought up – whether we were encouraged to grow into being ourselves or whether we had to conform to imposed behaviours that weren’t our own. That adjustment factor is what gives the appearance of a continuous ‘autistic spectrum’.

It seems that the proportion of Aspies, Autistics, ADHDs and others in society is increasing, and this is an evolutionary change for humanity. It’s the direction the world is heading in and it’s happening for a reason. It’s not a problem, and Aspies and Auties generally aren’t ill or malfunctioning. Actually, there is cause for us to feel sympathy for ordinary, neurotypical people and the templated, frameworked world they live in.

It has a fascinating side to it, inasmuch as, not seeing life in the same way as most other people, your perceptions are inherently out-of-the-box. So it means that you can come up with solutions that seem mad to some and brilliant to others – depending largely on whether their primary optic looks forwards or backwards. It also has a problematic side because it’s then a matter of whether it’s possible for that perspective to be expressed and accepted in society, for our strengths to be taken up and valued. This is slowly changing as society notes a growing variety of interesting public figures with this ‘condition’.

This was my problem. At Christmas, it was the implicit social requirement to behave in certain prescriptive ways, irrespective of how I felt inside myself, and the indulgence, waste and pretence of the relentlessly rolling bulldozer of Christmas behaviours. It grated for me and still does, and my own Xmas-avoidance can grate for other people.

In the 1980s, when I was in my thirties, I decided to clarify things, come out with it and just stop doing Christmas. If I was unclear I’d get drawn back into it, so I got clear and became ‘antisocial’ instead. In the later 1980s I started doing non-Christmas retreats for about ten people in the mountains of Snowdonia, which were fully booked. There would be no Xmas rigmarole, no presents, no special food or boozing, and we’d have silence and personal time up to 2pm each day and then hanging out together after that. The people who came to the retreats would rest, recharge and have some genuine human togetherness, without all the ritual. We had a great time!

Even though I’ve played a significant part in encouraging ceremony and ritual in Glastonbury, in the camps movement and elsewhere, and I’ve designed and led a good number of ceremonies myself, I’m not really into ceremony and ritual very much. I prefer to act spontaneously, picking up on and acting out the drama of the moment without making plans or imposing structures. I think this arises from a psychic sense of participating in a much broader and deeper reality-landscape and dialogue than many non-psychics perceive. If you’re in the right inner state, the spirits of the four directions will come and be there with you without needing much invitation. Like perceptive humans, they get a sense of where the action is and they go there.

I used to have problems when attending funerals. The vicar would be standing there leading the funeral service, while the hovering soul, looking for someone receptive, would find me sitting there in the pews. In some cases they would want me to lead the service, since I would be able more properly to speak on their behalf. But this was not to be, and I had to tell them so, secretly in my thoughts – the formalities had to be adhered to during such a solemn occasion.

The dead and the beings of the otherworlds run their own realities in parallel to ours, and the objective in ceremony is to bring those worlds closer. However, a direct psychic connection renders formalised ceremony less necessary – the action happens in ‘deep thought’. Formalised ceremony can indeed truly entrance people, enacting something that genuinely helps the interaction between worlds but, in my judgement, many ceremonies don’t do this as much as they could. The soul-quality of it can be obscured by the script. While many participants might wish to believe the gods are present, only sometimes do they seem to really feel it in their hearts and through their antennae. So there can be an element of pious game-playing to it. I hope I don’t offend by saying that. One of the things I’ve had to learn is how to say awkward things in an acceptable way – it took until my mid-thirties – and I’m not sure whether I’ve succeeded in that.

So, at funerals I have run, I asked people to address the departed soul directly, not as him or her but as you – since that soul was actually there (well, most times – there can be exceptions). It can be quite upsetting to someone who has just died to hear yourself being talked about and ignored by old friends and family, as if you no longer exist. I’d invite people to participate in a talking-stick process, each giving a short anecdote of their interaction with the deceasing person, addressing them personally as you – we were talking to that person about their life, and this is an important life-review process to help a departing soul understand nuances of their life that they’d perhaps never seen before. People were really moved by this. But I haven’t noticed such a method being widely adopted.

Bethlehem. But do they need to import north European pagan imagery such as sleighbells? Most Arabs don’t even understand what a sleigh is.

Winter Solstice and Christmas are important times for connecting with and reflecting on ancestry, origins, custom and tradition, but their importance lies not so much in ritual observance or cringeing Christmas habits as it lies in shared feeling and togetherness. It’s a time of social love and mutual support. The past is not important in itself, except inasmuch as it has some relevance to the present as a stabilising though not as a constraining factor.

There’s something wonderful about Christmas – the gathering of clans, the giving of gifts and the feasting. But for much of human history there has been a different context to these: today, in affluent societies, the feasting isn’t really necessary or good for us, and we already mostly have what we need so gifts have acquired hyper-consumption undertones, and while the gathering of families and friends can be wonderful, it can also be mixed in atmosphere, landing up with the TV, alcohol and niggly narrow-mindedness controlling the occasion.

Over the years I’ve found that, before Christmas, I get a slightly humbug, silent-to-disapproving response from many people when I tell them I’m not interested in it. Then after Christmas I’m told I’m lucky, or even envied. Most strange. We live in a very schizoid world. Some years, such as this year, with the devastation of Gaza, or back in 2004 with the Tsunami, the contradictions get quite stark, with people hungry in one place and over-filled in another, and both having a hard time over it. Sorry, but this doesn’t strike me as a good way to design the world of the future.

Anyway, that’s just me – though perhaps I’m articulating something for a few others too. Plenty of people are alone or lonely at Christmas. I am happy for those who are happy celebrating Christmas – it’s good for society to do things like this. And also I think about people who are unhappy about it, either because they’re left out or because they feel obliged to play along with something they don’t really feel right about. Perhaps Christmas needs a redesign to fit the reality of our current time. Less of the consumption, profiteering and excess, and more of the human aspect of things – the peace and the goodwill.

The Church of the Nativity (on the site of an Apollo temple and a Canaanite Goddess temple)

This is important. On the run-up to Christmas, one issue that has been bugging me is that I’m getting too many requests for help from people in many places and situations around the world, and it’s getting to be too much. Human need on Planet Earth is rising. My own sense of peace and goodwill has been under test. I’m currently working on three missions and I have the capacity for one. I’m having to remind people not to depend too much on me, because one day they won’t get an answer – I’ll be incapacitated or dead. I can’t find people to take on these people and their needs for help, all of which are genuine and legitimate. So that presents a problem. They need to get sorted out and back on their feet, and it’s good for us, for our souls, to take on karma-yogic responsibilities such as these. Well, that’s what I have found, at least.

So I’ve been experiencing compassion fatigue. Too many people asking for help. I have to remind them I am not a public-service help agency – I’m an old crock running on three cylinders. This fatigue has been accentuated by a need to re-focus on my own life – after all, living with cancer is a wee bit challenging – and on keeping my own head above water. If I don’t do this, I might well have a shorter life, meaning that I won’t be here any more for these people to contact. But then, to be ruthlessly honest, perhaps I need them as much as they need me.

But then, after I pop my clogs I’ll be Upstairs, accessible at least to those who attune their inner devices sufficiently and sign in to the dialogue. It’s certainly possible for me to tap on the top of people’s heads, or to walk into one of their dreams but, even then, it’s a toss-up whether they will notice or respond.

If you see things from the viewpoint of the ancestors, it’s difficult for them when the majority of people disregard them, or think of them as fantasy, as imaginary or even hauntingly disturbing. Or people shut off their receptivity by ‘just’ having another drink, or rushing off to spend money in shopping malls and bowling alleys, or arguing with each other over unresolved issues or trivialities. It can be frustrating being an ancestor in modern times, especially if there’s some wisdom to impart during moments of Christmastide reflection. Wisdoms such as…

Sometimes the young are wiser than the old. Sometimes adversity is really helpful. Or no matter how close you get to someone, there can still be light-years between you. Or that many hands make light work. Or that you can have the world’s greatest army but you still don’t win your wars. Or that the people who are regarded as winners are often very alone, even when they’re popular.

So I spent Christmas Day with a friend I met in 2022 who seems like an old friend already – Brian Abbot from Devon (he of the Invisible Opera Company of Tibet). Two aged hippies having a deep dialogue over all that has changed and all that has not changed, in our own lives, in the wider world and in the cosmos. One an author and the other a musician, both of us having started on our spirit-paths by consorting with Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, in her blotter and microdot format, fiftysomething years ago in another millennium. He cooked a nut roast.

That was our Christmas. The wind blew, the rain came down, the woodstove burned bright with aromatic birchwood, and no animals died to feed us with Christmas dinner. All was well down’ere in West Penwith, at the end of the world – well, the end of the small British part of our world. And the Atlantic rollers crashed against the rocks on the coast with not a single care for human beliefs such as Christmas. As for Jesus, he was in Khan Younis, not Bethlehem, busy ministering to people in need. Good on him – we need a few more people like him around.

With love, Paldywan.

Written using GHI (genuine human intelligence).

Website: www.palden.co.uk
Podcasts: www.palden.co.uk/podcasts.html and on Spotify, Apple and Google.

It is Necessary only that Good People do Nothing

I’ve always been an optimist, deep down inside – a Jupiter in Pisces type. I’ve felt this underlying optimism ever since I was young – not rigidly, but because I keep coming back to it after periodic times of despair over the state of the world, to which, for my growth, I’ve been karmically tied all my adult life. It’s over fifty years since John Lennon sang, outrageously at the time, that we should give peace a chance. I cannot say there has been a lot of visible progress.

However, underneath, something has changed. Many of the ideals of 50-60 years ago are in fits and starts becoming pragmatic policy strategies, and the balance of opinion at street and village level across the world has over the years quietly tilted against war. The strength and clarity of this consensus is yet to be tested, but hints of it are visible in world opinion over Gaza. We’re approaching that test.

Hair-raising world situations and crises have a way of arousing public feeling to a sufficient extent that a mountain of inertia, of helpless addiction to conflict, could actually start moving before long. Ukraine and Gaza have jogged us that way and there’s further to go. Trouble is, a consensus often takes shape in the background while vested interests act more quickly. This formula worked when Pluto was in Capricorn, from 2008 until now, but things are changing. With Pluto in Aquarius, we’re likely to have situations arising where vested interests find themselves encircled.

Polarisation, demonisation and dehumanisation are pre-requisites for conflict, and here the media and social media play an outsize role. If we truly believe in peace, then these three issues need tackling inside ourselves.

The information war is now as important as the military war. Since social media appeared, Palestinians have had more of a level playing-field. In the last conflict, young Gazans won the info-war on points, and this is one reason why Gazan phone networks are disabled now. Israel meanwhile fails to realise that, apart from military overkill, its determined, uncompromising certainty in pursuing its cause undermines it in the eyes of much of the world.

We’re getting too accustomed to witnessing blood sacrifices. We live in a thoroughly amoral world system and, collectively, by omission, we have failed to stop them happening. The system is rigged in such a way that, though we might choose peace, justice and ecological priorities, we undermine them simply by shopping at supermarkets, driving cars and using phones and computers.

I keep repeating Edmund Burke’s 250 year old quote: “For the triumph of evil it is necessary only that good people do nothing“. It’s true.

So we get the cruel destruction of people, cities and landscapes in ‘theatres’ such as Syria, Ukraine and Gaza – hellish nightmares that everyone hoped we’d left behind long ago. We’ll get more of this unless there’s a fundamental change. Such a change might start happening in the second half of this decade.[1] But, as with many of the world’s key issues, it won’t just happen. It has to be pushed, firmly and consistently.

It’s important that this pressure for change doesn’t become a new social conflict, a new cause for social and political polarisation. Battling over it will lead to delays and complications we can’t afford. The movement for peace needs to avoid adopting the methods of war and confrontation: success comes through building a rising tide of solidarity, consensus and cooperation. It needs longterm commitment and mass momentum, and if it is to succeed, the people of Earth need to get behind the project of saving our world. Global peacebuilding is a key part of that.

In relation to the current conflict in Is-Pal, taking sides is understandable, yet it is part of the problem. The problem arises from polarisation itself, not from the perceived goodness or badness of either side. What is under-reported here is an indistinct but nevertheless a majority global consensus tilting against war and devastation, by anyone, against anyone and for whatever reason.

The destruction we’ve seen in Gaza, Mariupol (Ukraine) and Kobani (Syria) in recent years have nudged this sleepy consensus along. Humane empathy is bubbling up in collective consciousness, especially amongst the young, the power-holders of future decades. But is it strong enough to overcome the resigned belief that conflicts are an unavoidable yet necessary evil?

Behind this lies a bigger problem. Governments of all kinds are out of step with their people. Defence and international relations, even in democracies, are managed by godfathers who decide the ‘national interest’ on our behalf. So, in future, matters of war and peace boil down to a bigger question: who decides?

Majorities in the Global South and also the Global North are proving to be pro-people in attitude. Current wars have taken on a people-against-the-Megamachine optic: we see high-tech war machines ranged against crowds and communities of people, mowing them down. With Pluto entering Aquarius for the next 15 years, this meme is strengthening – we’re watching it happen in Gaza.

Here’s an astrologer’s warning. From 2025-6 until 2038 Neptune is in Aries, an awkward period in which we’ll be faced with a key cause of war: big guys and strongmen who take it upon themselves to determine our future, often at the expense of majorities.

In Sudan we see a country being wrecked by two competing military leaders and their oligarchies. In Ukraine we see two very different kinds of strongman ranged against one another – Putin and Zelensky. In Israel we see a remarkably cynical prime minister taking on the whole world, convinced of his own rightness. In Gaza, Hamas is a resistance movement which, though it has its prominent leaders, is more horizontal than a hierarchy – more like a cooperative and rather like the Jewish terror organisations of the 1940s, Haganah, Lehi and Irgun.

Hamas will never remove the state of Israel, and they know it (they aren’t fools): Israel is here to stay. So are the Palestinians – here to stay. Israel will not eliminate Hamas because, even if it kills most of the current Hamas leadership, its actions generate new supporters and fighters willing to continue, whatever the cost, now and in twenty years’ time. That is, unless something big changes to make Palestinian lives better.

Big leaders and strongmen… Like that of war, this question has been allowed to drift because we were all too busy doing other things. This is one of the big challenges we must face globally if we are to avoid becoming a failed planet. However, here’s some good news: in the late 2020s and the 2030s we’re likely also to see a new crop of benign, altruistic leaders – of whom there have been too few in recent times. We could also see leaders who look as if they have solutions but they don’t, and visionary leaders with good solutions and a good way of asking people to face the music and grasp the nettle.

Palestinians are in a terrible mess. They have a strange mixture of social unity and political disunity, and they’re at a diplomatic disadvantage, poorly represented. ‘Palestine’s Mandela’, Marwan Barghouti, has sat in Israel jail for twenty years. The future of Gaza is now likely to be decided by outsiders. One sad fact here (many will disagree) is that the future governance of Gaza is best left in the hands of Hamas. The Palestine Authority, Israelis or international bodies are unlikely to get things right since they will simply perpetuate Palestinians’ position as dissatisfied victims.

Israelis have got themselves into a thorough mess too. They have landed themselves in a war on five fronts – against Gazans, West Bank Palestinians, Arab Jerusalemites, Arab Israelis and Hezbollah in Lebanon. They have an enormous domestic disagreement over the future direction of their country, which risks civil war or a separation of the country into an Israel and a Judea. Peace-oriented Israelis are having a hard time right now.[2]

By destroying Gaza Israel has raised a big question: who will pay the necessary mega-billions for its reconstruction? If there’s a risk of further destruction, governments, NGOs and investors will have little interest in an insecure investment that won’t pay off. Construction contracts will be valuable to Israeli companies, and plenty of cheap labour is available, but since Israel’s economy is tanking it will rely on foreign investment, during a time when the international community has plenty of bills to pay. It makes Israel accountable – it must promise to avoid destroying Gaza again.

And where and how will Gazans survive and get a decent life? A strong minority in Israel wants Palestinians simply to disappear – to Egypt, Jordan or anywhere – and this has been a hidden agenda for some interests in Israel since the late 1940s. But if this were possible, it would already have happened. Palestinians are good at standing their ground, whatever Israelis and the world throw at them.

Even if all Palestinians obligingly left, Israel would not be safe and secure – it would still be at war with itself, it would have unhappy neighbours and a further two million unhappy Palestinian refugees staring at it, and it would be internationally isolated (since USA is a fitful partner). Meanwhile the world is tired of holding its nose, paying Israel’s bills and accepting Palestinian refugees. Seen from outside, peace and security for Israelis have been destroyed by Israel’s own actions.

For Israel to feel safe and secure it must play its part in creating the right conditions. Palestinians need a decent life where they can be happy, make progress, do well, feel free and feel safe. The threat to Israel will then diminish – not without problems and crunch-points, but in the course of a generation of calming, it will happen.

This conflict exposes a key global issue we consistently fail to address. Who decides things at the global level? Gaza has now gone global. Perhaps this was Hamas’ hidden strategic aim: to put the cat amongst the pigeons internationally. It has exposed Israeli dependency on support and cover from abroad, and it has dragged neighbouring countries and the UN system into the debate over the future of Gaza. In effect it has made Israel lose its control of Gaza and even of itself. Confusing self-defence with revenge, Israel has alienated the world, lost its Middle Eastern neighbours’ trust and come under USA’s thumb. Even though Hamas’ strategy and actions are highly questionable, Israel has outclassed it in the badness stakes.

Who decides? This is a big, awkward international problem. Our haphazard, under-powered system of international decision-making is inadequate. The UN, the only international body we have for dealing with global affairs, is hamstrung by its incapacity to act independently. There is a growing need, though no capacity, for international bodies to overrule the decisions and actions of individual countries if they harm the wider world.

This is a minefield, but it’s a question we must sort out in coming decades. Gaza has become a nexus-point in a bigger argument between the Global South and North. However much Hamas intended it, this is what it has achieved.

The solution doesn’t lie in the past, in differing historic narratives and arguments about who did what, who suffers more and what God thinks about land-distribution. It lies in the future, and on the capacity of two peoples to live together sharing the same small space. Actually, we aren’t talking about two peoples, but more like seven or eight. Conflicts like this hold back the rest of the world and, if the world is to progress, disagreements must in future be resolved by means other than war.

The Middle East, the historic crossing-place of Eurasia, is filled with multiple ethnic groups, all with a history. For millennia it has been ruled by single systems – empires – where ethnic groups lived alongside each other in neighbouring villages and city quarters, each having quite distinct identities, laws and customs, without dividing the region into the separate territorial nations we have now. Today’s countries, introduced by the British and French around 1920, have had multiple nightmares ever since. As the hydrocarbon age ends, if it is sensible the Middle East will pull together, led probably by the Gulf States, and conflicts will tend to dwindle because its natural state is to be united in one multicultural system where everyone has rights and no one is excluded.

For that to happen, peace in Is-Pal must come first – it’s critical. It’s also difficult, after the damage that has been done. Peace is at root a consensual, emotional, people-scale thing, not just a diplomatic, business solution. It requires forgiveness, trust-building and a calming period of at least a generation. Hatchets must be buried. Lives reconstructed. Justice restored. Pain dealt with in another way. People need the space and calm to experience the advantages of peaceful coexistence.

It’s the same with the wider world: everyone needs to get a clear feeling that, whatever the costs and disruptions of change, change is better than non-change. In all departments of life. It won’t be easy, but it’s easier than the alternative.

Israel and Palestine act as a microcosm of the world. When peace comes to this small, benighted and strangely holy land, it will be because the world is itself coming to peace. The Is-Pal conflict is a key conflict, locally and worldwide, acting as a focus-point for a much-needed process of global peacebuilding. Without global peace we are unlikely to survive – Earth will become like Gaza.

Even so, I’m still an optimist. Optimism might be a sad pathology, but don’t bank on it. Just because things are bad and disillusionment is rife, this doesn’t mean this sad state of affairs will continue forever. Bizarrely – and this is a tragic point – the worse it gets, the more likely we might be to make fundamental changes. Perhaps this is the hidden psychology of the Israelis and Palestinians: unconsciously both sides feel out of control, driven by deep feelings and a kind of self-destructive despair, crying out for help and support.

Also, this is a gift they are giving the world, highlighting our helplessness in dealing with conflict and its causes. The extent of the current tragedy takes Israelis and Palestinians close to a brink, an epiphany point. People on both sides need somehow to realise that their existing strategies aren’t working.

So my prayer is that current momentous events in and around Gaza become a catalyst, a turning point, a tidal shift, both in Is-Pal and globally. A turnaround that seeds conditions in which a more lasting, true peace may come. Not just a ceasefire but a comprehensive solution. Actually it’s about justice, a correction of extreme imbalances, which will lay the foundations for peaceful coexistence. It is possible to do this by mid-century. It falls on a younger generation to do it since, sadly, my generation hasn’t succeeded. And they will succeed, since war is now obsolete as a way of settling our differences, and we need simply to accept that.

With love, Palden

————-

My next blog will be on more personal matters. Also, I’ve been quiet because I’ve been assembling a book for cancer patients and their helpers, drawn from my blog over the last four years. Thanks to those of you who have encouraged me to do this. Called Bones, it’ll be ready in due course (in Cornwall we say ‘dreckly’) as a free online PDF and possibly later as an audiobook. It’s in consultation stage at present with two special soul-sisters, Sian and Faith (thank you), and awaiting a final editorial trawl. Definitely dreckly.

NOTES:
[1] I explain my astrological thoughts on the later 2020s here: https://penwithbeyond.blog/2020s/
[2] Here’s an article by Gershon Baskin, an Israeli peacemaker, about Marwan Barghouti, widely regarded as ‘Palestine’s Mandela’ – and the telling point is the comment below it, accusing him of being a traitor. https://blogs.timesofisrael.com/to-the-one-who-could-be-the-next-leader-of-palestine/

I’ve written a trilogy of books about Palestine – the West Bank. I wrote them in 2009-2012 and not much has changed since then except people getting older. I feared the books would go out of date but they haven’t, really, apart from details. One is available in print and all are available free as online PDFs. www.palden.co.uk/pop/

These are Palestine Authority soldiers, not Israelis

Tragedies

In case reminders are needed, it’s meditation on Sunday and you’re welcome to join us.

It’s at 7pm GMT every Sunday, without fail. Times vary in different countries, and these and other necessary details are here:

www.palden.co.uk/meditations.html

If at this time you’re working inwardly with Gaza (or Ukraine, or Sudan, or…), there’s not a lot we can do right now except care for people, to ease their hearts, mop up the dead and help people make the best of a hellish situation.

It’s tragic, but the bit we can do is to etch these events in the collective psyche of humanity and to help the world come to a very necessary conclusion, that this kind of thing is not part of our future.

This needs the building or reinforcing of a world consensus, deep in the heart of humanity. This isn’t as impossible as it seems since so many people are now tilting that way, many of them quietly and surreptitiously within themselves, and the real problem we face concerns what I keep quoting over and over, from the 18th C philosopher Edmund Burke…

“For the triumph of evil it is necessary only that good people do nothing.“

It’s arguable that, on Earth, the goodguys actually outnumber the badguys (though that’s over-simplistic and reality is more like shades of grey). Yet the energy-balances are tilted the ‘wrong’ way, giving much more apparent power to the Netanyahus and the conflict-stirrers of this world than they deserve.

Yet in the final analysis, the energy-balances actually tilt the other way.

As humans, we are mixed – there is darkness and light within each one of us. We’re challenged to examine those balances within ourselves, since the state of the world and the state of our selves are intimately connected. Buddhists call this ‘non-duality’. Christians call it ‘love thy neighbour as thyself’. I am he as you are she as you are me, and we are all together.

One of the best ways the losses and pain can be redeemed is to shine a psychic spotlight on these events, to help build up a tidal wave of awareness in the world psyche which simply says ‘May this be the defining event that makes this the last time it happens‘.

Perhaps we cannot right now save people like Gazans from their plight, but we can turn their sufferings and deaths into meaningful sacrifices for wider change.

We don’t want to set up a new conflict – this isn’t about a battle between light and darkness since both are part of reality. It’s about bringing the light and the dark into stronger relationship so that they interact properly and come to a new balance.

In personal growth this is called ‘owning our stuff’. The world needs to own its stuff.

With love, Palden

Both pictures come from Beit Lahem or Bethlehem in the West Bank, Palestine in 2011. The boy below is now a young man: I wonder what he’s thinking nowadays?