Bravo! One of your best. Let’s stay positive. Let’s go with hope and a word used very little today. Trust. Powerful word that stands alone. To say I trust you. Wow. There is such power in that statement. Yes, covenant- forming a covenant is going with trust.
Thank you for this reflection. I needed to hear its message to buoy me this morning and will carry it with me throughout the day. The distinction between contract and covenant is particularly meaningful to this time in our country’s history.
I watched enough to see the writing on the wall. Trump just announced to the nation that the midterms, if they happen, will be rigged by him and Stephen Miller will ensure it.
It has been too late for about 500 years, my friend.
The collapse was named just over 2,000 years ago by an itinerant indigenous teacher and healer who also pointed to some flowers, small birds, and little children and said “” See them? Be like that.”
That teacher also pointed to the religious, civil, and military-political leaders of that time and said “See those bullies? Don’t be like them.”
That teacher also noted that collapse is part of the whole cycle, and that we already have eternal life in the eternal kin-dom of Heaven, which is already and always right here and now.
We are not here to build or tear down empires. Empires are death masquerading as life.
A few years ago, I wasn’t sure I was going to survive.
I spent nearly two years in and out of psychiatric hospitals with severe depression and suicidality. There were multiple suicide attempts. I received treatments I never imagined I would need. During that time, life became unimaginably small. Sometimes my entire goal was simply to make it through another day.
If you’re struggling with depression or thoughts of suicide, please know that recovery is possible. It may not be quick, and it may not be easy, but you do not have to go through it alone. Please reach out. There is hope, even when you can’t yet feel it.
Today, I am deeply grateful to be alive.
Recovery has given me many gifts, but perhaps the greatest wasn’t an answer. It was a different way of understanding myself and the people around me.
I’ve been reflecting on something that reaches all the way back to childhood.
As a child, when I didn’t receive the love or emotional attunement I needed, I unconsciously looked for someone to blame. The easiest person to blame was me.
“If Dad isn’t giving me the love I need, maybe I’m not lovable.”
As painful as that belief was, it had one advantage: it made the world seem understandable. If I was the problem, then life made sense.
Only much later did I begin to see another possibility.
Maybe my father loved me in the ways he could, and also had limitations and struggles that I couldn’t possibly understand as a child.
That realization has changed far more than my understanding of my childhood.
Recently, I experienced a disappointment in a relationship. Almost immediately, my old habit returned. My mind began searching for reasons to blame myself.
But this time something different happened.
I realized I don’t actually know all the reasons another person makes the choices they make.
Every one of us is living a life as rich, complicated, and ever-changing as our own. Each of us carries experiences, hopes, fears, losses, relationships, and circumstances that no one else can fully see.
For the first time, I didn’t feel compelled to invent a story that blamed either of us.
I’ve also returned to Zen practice and recently reconnected with a teacher from thirty years ago. We talked about a Zen teaching called “Don’t Know Mind.” I think I’m finally beginning to understand it—not as ignorance, but as humility.
Sometimes reality is simply more complex than my mind wants it to be.
I’ve come to see life less as a collection of fixed people moving through a fixed world and more like a river… or a symphony. Always unfolding. Always changing. Never quite the same from one moment to the next.
That understanding has quietly transformed me.
I’ve come to believe that accompaniment is often more healing than explanation, and compassion is often more truthful than blame.
For much of my life, I thought healing meant finding the right explanation.
Now I think healing often begins when we stop insisting on explanations that aren’t available and instead accompany ourselves—and one another—with compassion.
Compassion for my father.
Compassion for the people who have disappointed me.
Compassion for the frightened child I once was.
And perhaps, for the first time, genuine compassion for myself.
I’m sharing this because I know there are people quietly carrying shame and self-blame. If that’s you, I simply offer my own experience.
You may not need another reason to blame yourself.
You may simply be living in a beautifully complicated world whose full story no one can completely know.
I’m profoundly grateful to still be here.
Still learning.
Still practicing.
Still discovering that when certainty softens, compassion has room to grow (both for other people and for yourself as well).
Thank you, Rev. Cameron. And thank you for the beautiful prayer, as well as the wise suggestions. Today i will do my best to honor this country's "civic covenant."
THANKS FOR THIS COVENANT REFLECTION.
HOPE IS ALIVE, IN THAT MOMENT LAST NIGHT WHEN THE MEDIA TOOK A STAND FOR TRUTH.
“Civic covenant”…
commits to what’s true, fair, kind.
Cares for greater good.
…
“Acts of honesty”…
everyday choices, by us.
Can shape free future?
Bravo! One of your best. Let’s stay positive. Let’s go with hope and a word used very little today. Trust. Powerful word that stands alone. To say I trust you. Wow. There is such power in that statement. Yes, covenant- forming a covenant is going with trust.
Thank you for this reflection. I needed to hear its message to buoy me this morning and will carry it with me throughout the day. The distinction between contract and covenant is particularly meaningful to this time in our country’s history.
Beautiful to read your posts.
Thank you 🙏
Thanks for the GOOD NEWS!
Beautiful! What a wonderful use of the word, covenant. Cameron's way of writing will help make peace if we listen.
A.Marie
I watched enough to see the writing on the wall. Trump just announced to the nation that the midterms, if they happen, will be rigged by him and Stephen Miller will ensure it.
Waiting for November is too late……
It has been too late for about 500 years, my friend.
The collapse was named just over 2,000 years ago by an itinerant indigenous teacher and healer who also pointed to some flowers, small birds, and little children and said “” See them? Be like that.”
That teacher also pointed to the religious, civil, and military-political leaders of that time and said “See those bullies? Don’t be like them.”
That teacher also noted that collapse is part of the whole cycle, and that we already have eternal life in the eternal kin-dom of Heaven, which is already and always right here and now.
We are not here to build or tear down empires. Empires are death masquerading as life.
We are here to love for a little while.
Only love.
Love is enough.
Love is sufficient.
Amen!!
A few years ago, I wasn’t sure I was going to survive.
I spent nearly two years in and out of psychiatric hospitals with severe depression and suicidality. There were multiple suicide attempts. I received treatments I never imagined I would need. During that time, life became unimaginably small. Sometimes my entire goal was simply to make it through another day.
If you’re struggling with depression or thoughts of suicide, please know that recovery is possible. It may not be quick, and it may not be easy, but you do not have to go through it alone. Please reach out. There is hope, even when you can’t yet feel it.
Today, I am deeply grateful to be alive.
Recovery has given me many gifts, but perhaps the greatest wasn’t an answer. It was a different way of understanding myself and the people around me.
I’ve been reflecting on something that reaches all the way back to childhood.
As a child, when I didn’t receive the love or emotional attunement I needed, I unconsciously looked for someone to blame. The easiest person to blame was me.
“If Dad isn’t giving me the love I need, maybe I’m not lovable.”
As painful as that belief was, it had one advantage: it made the world seem understandable. If I was the problem, then life made sense.
Only much later did I begin to see another possibility.
Maybe my father loved me in the ways he could, and also had limitations and struggles that I couldn’t possibly understand as a child.
That realization has changed far more than my understanding of my childhood.
Recently, I experienced a disappointment in a relationship. Almost immediately, my old habit returned. My mind began searching for reasons to blame myself.
But this time something different happened.
I realized I don’t actually know all the reasons another person makes the choices they make.
Every one of us is living a life as rich, complicated, and ever-changing as our own. Each of us carries experiences, hopes, fears, losses, relationships, and circumstances that no one else can fully see.
For the first time, I didn’t feel compelled to invent a story that blamed either of us.
I’ve also returned to Zen practice and recently reconnected with a teacher from thirty years ago. We talked about a Zen teaching called “Don’t Know Mind.” I think I’m finally beginning to understand it—not as ignorance, but as humility.
Sometimes reality is simply more complex than my mind wants it to be.
I’ve come to see life less as a collection of fixed people moving through a fixed world and more like a river… or a symphony. Always unfolding. Always changing. Never quite the same from one moment to the next.
That understanding has quietly transformed me.
I’ve come to believe that accompaniment is often more healing than explanation, and compassion is often more truthful than blame.
For much of my life, I thought healing meant finding the right explanation.
Now I think healing often begins when we stop insisting on explanations that aren’t available and instead accompany ourselves—and one another—with compassion.
Compassion for my father.
Compassion for the people who have disappointed me.
Compassion for the frightened child I once was.
And perhaps, for the first time, genuine compassion for myself.
I’m sharing this because I know there are people quietly carrying shame and self-blame. If that’s you, I simply offer my own experience.
You may not need another reason to blame yourself.
You may simply be living in a beautifully complicated world whose full story no one can completely know.
I’m profoundly grateful to still be here.
Still learning.
Still practicing.
Still discovering that when certainty softens, compassion has room to grow (both for other people and for yourself as well).
❤️☮️ , Steve
Thank you, Rev. Cameron. And thank you for the beautiful prayer, as well as the wise suggestions. Today i will do my best to honor this country's "civic covenant."