Sitting in my kitchen this morning, I heard a faraway siren. Immediately, my mind flashed on those a continent away, who, like me, were undisturbed in their homes just a few weeks ago, before the bombs began to fall.
I thought, “What would that be like?” as I superimposed televised images over the peaceful springtime view out my window. I was briefly transported to a war-torn town in a makeshift shelter with no escape. In my body, I felt my heart rate quicken, throat tighten and breath shorten. I was in fight or flight mode without moving a muscle.
When I refocused on my reality, I immediately acknowledged my countless blessings. But that feeling of gratefulness was overshadowed by a sense of helplessness. Then I remembered a story a mentor of mine, Christina, had once shared…
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