These are not easy times we are living through.

Some days we wake with heaviness, like a sinking feeling we can't name or locate. Sometimes, there’s nothing specific in our immediate life that accounts for it. It’s just the general feeling we find ourselves swimming in these days - a mix of worry, fear, sadness, anxiety and panic, like something dark yet unspecific pressing on our chest before we've rolled out of bed.

So we look for a cause, scanning our lives for something to stick it to, like the feeling of dread must be an omen of something coming we should look out for. We need only scroll for a few seconds to find ten things we could attach it to, like confirmation - “See! That feeling of dread has a reason for being here now! The stranger on the internet sharing their own feeling of dread about anything or everything told me so.” 

And so, we spiral and catastrophise and drag a sense of ominous misfortune toward us by trying to explain a feeling that was never ours to explain, because sometimes that weight was not even ours to begin with.

We think we are separate - walking around in our individual sealed containers, feeling only our own feelings - but that is the greatest lie of this age. The truth is that we are all bound together by golden threads of light running between us, from heart to heart. Golden cords connecting every living thing on Earth. 

And when our brothers and sisters in Iran, or in Israel, or Lebanon, Yemen, Iraq, Syria or Somalia, or in Gaza, or Ukraine, or Sudan, or in god knows how many places right now are being bombed into rubble, or having the life squeezed out of them like Cuba or Venezuela - when they are feeling the absolute animal terror of that - we feel it too. We just don't have a missile overhead to attach it to, so we mistake the feeling for our own.

The feeling travels down the golden threads as a pulse of light, a pulse of love - not the soft and cuddly kind, but the fiery kind that feels like truth, because real love, after all, is truth on fire. That’s the fire blazing up and down the cords between us all right now - the unyielding fire of truth, like a transmission, or a signal, or a frequency. When someone on the other end of our cord is experiencing inhumane suffering, we receive it, like the fire of truth in our own heart.

Those in power may think they can drop bombs as they please, but the truth the heart speaks loudly right now is that you cannot harm another without harming yourself. Every figure currently threatening with gleeful chest-beating to obliterate innocent people is, somewhere inside the system they don't know they belong to, dropping a bomb on themselves. The golden threads don't care whose name is on the missile. The truth travels and rebounds up and down the cords, not as consequence in the storybook sense, but as weight that lands in the body of every connected heart, including theirs.

Some have closed their hearts so tightly to others that they can barely feel it, but for those of us with open hearts, we feel it all. The pain is not our own, yet in a way, it is all of ours. What is done to one is done to all, because beneath the illusion of separation, all is really one.

If you’re looking out your window right now and not seeing bombs falling from the sky, but you’re feeling this moment we’re living through deeply, in your heart, in your bones, in the depths of your soul, you’re not being asked to collapse with what's collapsing. We must not look at the full catastrophe of the world and descend into it, because that serves no one. There is no heroism in drowning alongside someone who is drowning.

If the golden threads carry feelings in both directions - and they do - then we are not passive receivers, but also transmitters, and if we can feel the pain of a people being bombarded half way around the world, then they can feel our light from an equally vast distance. 

If we are not running from missiles ourselves, then our work right now is to anchor. To plant both feet deep in a fierce and unapologetic love and hold there, and stabilise the grid while others do everything they can just to stay alive.

Those in power may be waging war, but our task right now is to wage peace. Not the peace of looking away, or of pretending, but the peace of deep rooting that holds the line exactly because it knows what's at stake.

We feel the weight.

We acknowledge it.

We let it tell us what it is.

Not a sign of our own doom, but a message from the field.

And then we do what those who are safe enough to do so must do:

We hold the heart open and send love back down the line.

More than ever, none of us is alone right now. We are all so deeply connected, and our way through what comes next is not just through protest, or painting a sign or giving a speech or posting a hashtag on social media - it’s by anchoring in truth and love and lighting up the grid, on behalf of those so weighed down by the heft of this moment that they cannot do it for themselves.

Don’t mistake the weight of this moment and make it all your own. The weight is ours collectively, but each of us is called to carry it differently. If you’re not in the firing line right now, then take the weight as a nudge, a prompt, or a reminder to anchor deep in your heart, and light up the grid, sending all the love you can down the golden threads of light. 

Now’s the time to light up. Our brothers and sisters need us. 

The golden threads are live. Use them.