Japan: A Nation’s Blessings Eclipsed

This sand sculpture was created in India.

I had been happily working on a light-hearted blog while waiting for a flight out of LAX early Friday morning.  My husband and I were excitedly joining both family and friends on the East coast to attend a concert my son had put together to showcase his musical talents. This was one of those golden moments in life that holds the promise of tremendous joy and love; something happy to remember for the rest of your life — a blessing — the gift that keeps on giving.  My heart was wide open, keenly aware of the abundance of blessings that surrounded not only me but also those I love and cherish.

And then a text on my phone: the news of Japan’s devastation; a request for prayer from a friend.   Within seconds my expansive heart retracted, growing unbearably heavy, and that guarantee of joy-filled moments slipped away from me and became a deeply dark, foreboding feeling in my soul.  The light from my blessings became shadowed.

Nature can be that way.  Life can be that way.  A killing field of sorts.  Unforeseen, unannounced and certainly, unwelcome.  Had I not experienced loss during the Northridge earthquake?  How many times had I experienced the unexpected loss of a loved one in my life?  How may times has my body been made vulnerable by disease? Too many to recount. Too painful to remember.

Yet, just 24 hours earlier, blessings in Japan were everywhere to be found.  In the love of family and friends, on the faces of children, in the songs of birds, in the beauty of nature, in the rhythm of daily life that awoke with the sunrise, and slept under the canopy of night.  Had the blessings of Japan been devoured by that mountainous wall of water that consumed so much in its path?  Certainly, a quake of that magnitude, a tsunami of such devastating power is not a blessing.  I am thousands of miles away, and I can’t deny the unbearable sorrow of such loss and destruction.  The quake and tsunami in Sendai not only altered Japan physically, it literally changed the world physically — shifting the earth’s axis four inches.

And on an intensely personal level, Japan’s collective cry of pain, shifted my feelings of joy to an overwhelming sense of sadness.  In the blink of an eye, my guaranteed blessings were eclipsed by Sendai’s demolition, and I truly grieved for that nation.  Every one of us experiences suffering; some suffer more than others, some more brutally, some more subtly.  The way in which we suffer may change from person to person, but the fact of the suffering is part of what connects us to one another.

I read somewhere that, ‘grief is the natural and healing companion of loss.’  If we allow ourselves to experience and surrender to grief we can eventually move through it and shift in powerful ways.  And there for me is the ray of light, called a blessing.  And every time we recognize a blessing, it increases our ability to receive it.  This is where G_d exists for me.  This is the place of momentous spiritual healing; this is the seed of transformation.

When our world grows dark and foreboding, and personal loss is beyond imagination, we have to remain open in our hearts.  As I watch the abundance of aid pour into Japan, I am reminded that we are all Divinely connected, if we but open our hearts and accept the love and care we give to and receive from one another.

Please take a moment — now — and pray for the people of Japan.

And finally, give thanks for your life.  Be grateful for everything you have and for all that you have become; for it is through gratefulness, we open the door to joy.


10 thoughts on “Japan: A Nation’s Blessings Eclipsed

  1. It is a blessing that your heart is blown wide open. I love how you can trace your feelings of joy & love into a shadow place. I feel your compassion for humanity and it’s a gift to all of us. Thank you for finding the gift in the tragedy of Japan’s earthquake and for sharing this blog and continuing to open that beautiful heart of yours. You are a treasure B. Having your depth of heart is who you are; a light filled soul bringing your messages to us. I’m grateful for you. lovelovelove you

  2. ‘grief is the natural and healing companion of loss.’

    You’re correct, of course. Loss is a wound and only through the pain of grief can that wound be healed and, with time, even the scar from that wound will be absorbed into ourselves, become a part of our self.

  3. I was directed to your latest blog and am very thankful to have taken the journey. Thanks for your thoughtful, heartfelt post.

    I have recently suffered grave personal loss and am, too, trying to remain in gratitude.

    The horrors in Japan have been a call to action, a waking up and remembrance that the greatest gift we have to offer is our love, kindness, and connection. And in this case, our resources.

    Thanks for writing.

    xoVicki Abelson, Women Who Write

    • Vicki, Thank you for your kind and insightful words. I hold tremendous compassion in my heart
      for your loss. This feeling of compassion isn’t something I can give to you, it is something that
      I share with you because I too have experienced great loss, and felt tremendous grief. That is
      the universality of sorrow — and the universality of joy. So grateful to you that you are writing.
      You have much to say and share. Much love,

  4. Another beautiful post. You are a wonderful writer. Thank you for sharing your heart with all of us, and with Japan.

    There is grace in the midst of tragedy even now. Seeds of hope for the future. Miracles of love.

    All will be healed. All will be well. Our hearts will grieve and then mend together.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s