Monthly Archives: November 2023

Someday, you’ll be old enough to start reading fairy tales again. C. S. Lewis

Today, I’m invite you on a journey into the magical forest to receive a Thanksgiving blessing . . .

Chapter 1: The Shaman’s Dream

One day, deep in the magical forest, a holy woman, a Shaman, was sleeping and had a dream. Ahhh…but this was no ordinary dream. When she woke, she was very sad because she’d seen a vision of what was to come. Soon, the forest would lose its magic and become dark and desolate. All the birds would stop singing and all the wondrous forest sounds would become silent. And she was shown that this would happen because people who lived in the forest had lost sight of their own inherent magic.

But she was told there was hope because there was one animal in the forest that had just the right medicine to help people remember their inherent magic and so could return the magic to the forest – and that animal was Squirrel.

Thanksgiving was coming soon and just thinking of how Squirrel might be able to save the beautiful forest filled the Shaman with hope and gratitude. What more could she possibly wish for than for the beautiful forest to be saved from darkness?

Now you might wonder, “Why Squirrel?” It’s not usually exalted as say the eagle, bear, dove or lion. Well, Squirrel medicine teaches us some very important things. It teaches us the importance of gathering and storing energy, resources, we may need for a future time. It teaches us to be awake and prepared to face whatever may come.

But while squirrels are always prepared and resourceful, they’re also fun and curious. They love to play! So, Squirrel medicine teaches us most about balance – working hard yet having fun – preparing for the future but not losing site of the present moment. Squirrel medicine requires us to seek balance in our lives.  

The Shaman knew the forest was losing its magic because it was struggling to keep itself in balance with all the changes humans had brought. She knew that, somehow, if humans could remember their own inherent magic, they could find balance within themselves again, and then be able to keep the magic of the forest alive.  

So, beating her drum, she started singing a love song especially for Squirrel for the Shaman knew that it was love that attracted all things without fail.  

Chapter 2: A Call for Squirrel Medicine

Squirrel heard the call but was busy gathering acorns for the winter. It was already growing cold and he knew time was short. But the Shaman kept calling and, finally, he couldn’t resist and scampered over to the cottage.

“What’s up?” he asked. “I’m really busy.”

“I have an important assignment for you,” said the Shaman, “one that could save our entire forest from losing its magic and going dark.”

Suddenly, Squirrel paused and frowned, looking worried. “But what can I do?

“I need you to take a special message to the humans who live here. They are the only ones who can save our forest.”

“Why me? I’m just an ordinary squirrel – you know – not one of those special animals humans are always talking about.”

“Ahhhh, but you have, right now, just the right medicine the people need to remember their inherent magic, the only magic that can save our forest.”

“W-h-a-t?” said Squirrel, totally confused . . . but the Shaman just smiled patiently.

Chapter 3: The Gift of the Acorn

“So, what do I have that can help humans remember their inherent magic?”

“It’s right there in the Spirit of all those Acorns you’re collecting for winter.”

Squirrel continued to look confused.

“You know how acorns grow into oak trees?” asked the Shaman.

“Well, yea,” answered Squirrel thinking only when he didn’t eat them first.

“But every oak tree is different, right?” said the Shaman. “Yet, each is still an oak?”

“Well, yea . . . So?” Squirrel frowned even deeper.

“The first thing humans need to remember to help save our magical forest is that, just like each acorn already has inside itself what the grown oak tree will be, each human also carries within, right from the beginning, a special magic that is unique among humans – a magic only they can bring.”

“So . . . how will that help save the forest?” asked Squirrel growing even more confused.

“Well, you know how trees are connected, and even help each other through their roots?”

“Yea,” said Squirrel.

“Well, just like the oak trees are all connected through their roots, humans are all connected through their hearts. When humans bring forth their magic, their hearts lights up, and then all the hearts around them light up, and then even the trees light up and all the forest begins to shine just a little brighter.”

“And that’s how humans can help save the forest!” Squirrel suddenly exclaimed scampering back and forth . . . but then stopped and asked, “But what can I do?”

Chapter 4: Under Every Pillow

“Would you be willing to scurry quietly though the window of each cottage and leave an acorn under the pillow of each sleeping human? I’ll go into the dreamtime and have each of them dream of the acorn under their pillow and of the special message it brings. Would you be willing to do that?”

Squirrel was already counting in his head how many humans lived in the magical forest and thinking it wouldn’t be that many acorns to give up. Besides, if he could help save the forest, well, he just might become one of those special animals humans are always talking about.

“Yes!” said Squirrel scampering back and forth.

“There’s just one more thing,” said the Shaman.

“Oh boy,” thought Squirrel – not wanting his happy bubble to burst.

“You know how every Thanksgiving we have a special ceremony in the meadow and share our blessings?”

“Yea.”

“The night before, would you be willing to make a big heart on the ground made of acorns? And when we all gather together, I’ll let everyone know it was you who left the special acorns under their pillows and you who made the heart.”

For once, Squirrel was speechless. Just maybe he would become one of those animals humans were always talking about.

“Then, I’ll ask the humans to share the special magic the acorns brought, left under their pillows, and then ask them to put the acorns inside the big heart. This will help humans to remember that, while each has a unique special magic, we’re all a part of the one heart of the magical forest. This will help restore balance to what is important, to what it truly means to be happy and alive, which will light up the forest forever.”

As Squirrel scampered away, he knew this would be a Thanksgiving he’d never forget.

And suddenly he was so happy he forgot all about picking acorns and, instead, started playing with his friends. “There’ll still be time for work later,” he thought.  

And the magical forest lit up a little brighter.

Chapter 5: The Shinning Forest

Later, when Squirrel went back to finding acorns, he put the ones he’d hide under each pillow in a special place—careful to make sure he had one for each person in the forest. Then, he collected all the ones he wanted to use to make the heart for the special Thanksgiving ceremony in another place—all the while smiling thinking that, just maybe, now he’d become one of those special animals humans are always talking about—because the Shaman had called on him to help save the forest.

And Squirrel smiled.

The End

During these challenging times, seeing war raging in the Middle East, the terrorist attack of Hamas on innocent Israelis, and now the subsequent bombardment of the Gaza Strip, it’s easy to succumb to despair. I refuse. Even as I watched the shock and horror on the faces of those Israelis being suddenly snatched, taken prisoner in broad daylight, and now hear the cries of the innocent ones trapped in perpetual darkness in the Gaza Strip without the basic necessities for survival, I refuse. 

Hope is only lost when we decide we can do nothing or remain silent. Silence leaves a vacuum for hatred that only escalates as a result of fear – fear of alienation and annihilation. Hope gives rise to conscious action, possibility, as a result of love – love not based on personal emotion but rather on a sense of clarity, that what we do to the other, in the end, we do to ourselves.

Certainly, as we determined after 911, any act of terror must be met with the swift sword of justice. Simply, evil, in any manner, cannot be allowed to prevail. Still, I believe it’s the hope of many that we not simply re-act arbitrarily, but, rather, strive for that conscious action when balancing the scales of justice. It’s a fine, some might say lofty, point but I would argue a critical one influencing the decisions we make.

For example, this distinction has risen as many are contemplating the plight of civilians, particularly those trapped in the Gaza Strip. It might serve us well to ask what happens to our collective psyche when we decide some innocent lives are more worthy of our care than others. It becomes all too easy, framing the argument as perpetrators vs victims, to lose sight that today’s victims are tomorrow’s perpetrators and vise-versa. And so, the wheel of re-active retaliation spins without end while the innocent on both sides continue to suffer and grieve as they bury their children.

Elenor Roosevelt asked, “When will our consciences grow so tender that we will act to prevent human misery rather than avenge it?” Herein lies an important key to stopping re-active retaliation. As I highlighted in my April 30, 2023 Opinion, Our Common Humanity, making opportunities to forge dialogue, expand understanding, and raise awareness is key to helping assumed enemies step off the perpetrator-victim wheel and, together, forge new pathways. Not easy. Messy and challenging for sure. But worth it? Ask the many helpless ones, this moment, watching their loved ones suffer and die and can do nothing about it.

Something happens when we move beyond the more superficial differences and see into our common humanity—that place where it no longer matters, we don’t notice, or forget to ask, what religion, ethnicity or nationality a person is—when we see someone in need. We respond because something bigger compels us. In that moment, if ever so briefly, we contact the common ground of our humanity. And it changes us.  

As an Interfaith minister, I have hope because I’ve personally experienced that common ground, one might call our Oneness from a religious perspective, with both my Jewish and Muslim friends.

My Jewish friends practice the great message from the Talmud: “That which is hateful to you, do not do to another. That is the whole law. The rest is commentary.” I’ve learned from them the mysteries of the Hebrew script and where, for example, the first letter is “Alef.” It’s silent signifying the One behind all creation. As Lawrence Kushner writes in “The Book of Letters,” “It [Alef] also begins the most important thing about Him: ECHAD. One. Know that God is One.”

And it didn’t matter that I was not a Jew.

My Muslim and Sufi friends hold fast to the enduring message from the Hadith: “None of you truly believes until you love for your brother what you love for yourself.” I’ve danced in circle form many times to the sacred phrase, “La Ilaha Illallah,” generally translated, “There is no deity but Allah,” and points to the Muslim concept of “Tawhid,” the Oneness of God. I learned the 99 beautiful names of Allah and discovered that the infamous phrase, hijacked by terrorists, “Allahu Akbar,” simply means, “God is Great.”

And it didn’t matter that I was not a Muslim or Sufi.

It would not be possible for the Jews and Muslims I know to participate in any form of terror against others. Their religious practices bring them again and again to stand for hope, possibility and love.

Let’s not allow fear and hatred to dominate. Let’s strive for conscious action to balance the scales of justice. Let’s allow ourselves to imagine the possibility that we could stand together in search of freedom and prosperity for all.

And, above all, let’s choose hope that propels us to love.