Threads of Unity at the Peace Wall

 We stood at the Peace Wall in Belfast, where Protestant and Catholic neighborhoods still meet in uneasy silence. Towering metal grates cover the nearest homes, shielding families from the rocks and homemade bombs that have been hurled across this divide. Even now, barbed wire crowns the wall like a grim ribbon of steel. The gates between the two sides open in the morning, close again at night.

What struck me most was how much these communities share. They eat from the same land, look up at the same rain-washed skies, wear wool spun from the same sheep, and carry the memory of the same Great Hunger that once decimated their people. And yet, neighbors who could so easily recognize themselves in one another remain divided by flags, by faith, by borders.





As we traveled through castles and green hillsides, our guides spoke of bombings, barricades, and bloodshed. Civilians lost their lives in battles waged under the banner of religion and politics, but the graffiti-covered walls whispered a deeper truth: it was never really about God, never truly about doctrine. It was about power. About control. About wealth.

Isn’t that what so many wars and political agendas have been about—control disguised as righteousness? We pick up holy texts or laws like weapons, not to live their spirit but to wield them for our own gain. Yet greed is not wisdom. Greed lives for today and abandons tomorrow. It forgets the generations to come.

And here’s the irony: the “truths” so many have died for are debated, reinterpreted, even disproven with each new discovery. How many lives have been lost for beliefs that were never fully true?

So my message is simple: today is all we truly hold. Yesterday’s manna cannot feed us now. Today we are called to listen, to seek, to discover the divine thread woven through us all—the thread that ties us to one another, and to the Great Creator. That thread does not require us to cling to old dogma, nor to tear apart the fabric of humanity in the name of power.

At the base of that wall in Belfast, I saw two small children in school uniforms chasing each other, laughing, shouting “Tag!” Their voices rang out beneath the shadow of bricks and barbed wire, beneath a mural memorializing lives lost to violence only a generation before—my parents’ time.

And I wondered: what stories will they be told? Will their laughter be replaced by the heavy inheritance of prejudice and division? Or will they be free to grow into their own lives—chasing dreams, loving who they love, and looking up at the same rainbowed sky with gratitude and belonging?

Maybe what I’m here to shift is this: the choice. The choice to stop living in the old wounds of separation. The choice to lay down control, power, and fear. The choice to see ourselves as one weaving—threads, fibers, seeds, and soil—always returning, always connected, always whole.




To connect with my work and message, find my book! 



Pathway of the Sage

To take my online Shamanic Course: Click here: Shamanic Study Online Course



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Sedona and Bell Rock

Image
Phoenix, Arizona is a sprawled and flat city across a flat and sparse land. Downtown feels like Las Vegas without all the gambling and neon gimmickry.  My hotel was within walking distance to the conference center- but I opted to drive, based on the bars on the windows of the gentrified outskirts off the main business hubs and unsure of what time I would be leaving the conference- wondering if it was wise to walk alone as a woman down unknown streets after dark.  The second morning of my stay, which was also the last day of the conference, I lounged in the hotel lobby waiting for valet, when an idea flew through my mind like a bird across the sky; a vision of me sitting at Bell Rock in Sedona, Arizona; playing my thousand year old Ancient Singing bowl. It dawned on me that I had free time to make it there and back before my flight the next afternoon. At risk of being late to the business training with Keira Brinton of JOA Publishing, my past publisher, I cancelled my last nigh...
Read more

Oak Creek Espresso

Image
I left the Bell Rock vortex at 9:45am. As my shivering fingers and warming feet soaked in the heat from the warming SUV I had rented, I searched for Hot Coffee nearby and found Oak Creek Espresso.  Arriving into the eclectic and cozy atmosphere, the coffee barista cheered and welcomed every customer. With a strawberry blond pixie cut, button down flannel and swaying stone earrings she took my order for a coconut milk latte. I watched as she and her coworkers seemed to know most of the people ordering drinks and pastries by name. With a boisterous and kind laugh she asked them how they were doing and made everyone who entered feel important.  My beverage was just what I needed to thaw the frost that had seemed to reach my bones. Having hiked in 24 degree pre-sun coolness wearing dress shoes, I was now walking around wearing black gym socks underneath my fancy sandals. I looked comical- and I didn't care.  Oak Creek Espresso shares the parking lot with a Local Artist Collec...
Read more

Montezuma's Well

Image
I was a few miles outside of Sedona, Arizona and headed south to Phoenix when my friend texted "Bring me back some dirt from Sedona!"  I googled the closest park and "Montezuma's Well" popped up on by navigation. I had intended to find a simple community park with a bench to sit for a moment and journal. The universe had different intentions. I came across a footprint in the cement. I thought about the fact that whoever stepped there, wasn't "supposed" to. And yet, here it is. Preserved.  I wondered if across the world, wherever there are stone markings, were they vandalizing? Were they "stepping outside" of the lines? Here we are, preserving the rebels footsteps. The rebels are the ones who step outside the lines, who leave a mark. The conservative point fingers and build fences and tell the rebels to conform- and the rebels don't. They push the edges of the leading edge. Then time goes by, generations pass, and the conservatives of ...
Read more