My name is Hadassah.

There is alot of history and a great deal of religion associated with my name.

As a diverse person, I don’t ascribe to easy labels and defy convenient descriptions. But, the account of this story is one that I have lived with every day of my life, and has a great deal of meaning to me. You see, she was essentially alone. For all intents and purposes her people were deeply bereft of their place in society. They were persecuted to such an extent as to fear for their lives. Her very name, Hadassah, was replaced as many were by the name of something foreign – a foreign deity embodying opposing values – which of itself was likely offensive on an innocent woman. But nevertheless, she retained her strength. She was a queen among many, because of her personality, not her station. She was, most definitely, courageous. She was different from those around her in her choices, her responses, and her approach to life. It led her to greatness because that was her path to follow. She had immense faith.

Contemplating this I sit here, quietly looking out over the bustle of a city, and I am struck by the duality of life – the complexity of even a simple existence. We are fragile beings (“carbon-based life forms”) with a strength and resiliency none other possesses. We have the capacity for inimitable greatness, as well as dizzying darkness of soul.

History has seen us survive the bloodiest and most horrific of  tragedies and circumstances, only to emerge both shattered and triumphant. Somehow we manage to pull ourselves and lives back together, piece by piece, weaving the patchwork of the victim and the travails of the champion into our daily breath. We etch an impression of our journey on those we are close to by choice or incident, and regardless, all marches on.

Time. The magical and the mystic nature of it does not actually heal. Healing is an act of process. It is a conscious movement in a certain direction with uncertain results. But it requires a desire, a fortitude, a WILL to see something better than one’s current view or state. Healing requires an attitude of hope, a positivity and a zeal for light, for right works, fairness and love of self and others. Healing requires us to consistently tune our sense of justice to a harmonious melody in syncopation with others. It takes work and personal effort to see that all is fair and closed to some end – to correct an imbalance or accept a loss and rebuild.

Time does not heal. Time covers. It blankets the ground we pass with fallen leaves, and brings rains and sunshine and air to break them down into a natural carpet of growth. Time is not the end, it is the means. The magic and mysticism we associate with time is of our own making. How we use it is entirely up to each one of us. The magic lies within. The kindness, compassion, warmth, faith, equality, acceptance, peace, security, and love which each person craves must be exerted by us. No amount of crying aloud or decrying others will bring this about.

Whatever one’s beliefs may be, the truth of the matter is this:

We make our own magic. We carve our own lives, with the sanding of many days and chiseling of innumerable choices.  We are human beings. To be is not to exist, it is to live.

That is our choice. How will we make it? How will we spend our time? How will we live?

What will we be known for? For how long?

At this crucial point in history, these are the things we must ask ourselves – each one of us – and we must keep asking every day until we have used our time to heal whatever may need healing.trees and time.jpg

It is a kind of miracle, our being, is it not?

But who are you being?


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