Our world is insane. There’s so much that goes on that I don’t think we can ever understand until it is our turn to leave this earthly realm… so until then, we may not understand the why of it all, but we can make a difference to help heal those who are suffering. The tragedy in Paris has me writing this post. I have been doing what I do, and what many others do, when there is a crisis. I have been sending loving thoughts. But what many people don’t know; this is not a token gesture. Sending loving thoughts matters. It makes a difference.
Here’s how I first learned this:
A couple of decades ago, my daughters and I were on a road trip and the traffic came to a standstill on the highway. As we waited, it became clear there had been an accident. People driving on a highway are all on their way somewhere and we noticed many drivers in the standstill were not happy. Getting out of their cars, we watched people display impatience, annoyance, anger, and oh my god, inconvenience. Someone’s life had just been changed forever. Someone’s life might well have been taken. A ripple effect of a serious car accident affects so many others, not just those involved. I don’t suppose anybody who was in that traffic lineup had the right to be complaining in that moment.
And so, my daughters and I decided we would take a moment to send good thoughts to the people involved in the accident, and to whomever else was affected that might need to know others care. So we paused, and ‘sent’ loving thoughts with our minds. It seemed that was about all we could do to help while we waited.
A few days later I read a news story: A woman had been in a traffic accident somewhere in the U.S. She tells the story: Her spirit left her body and she could sense all this red anger radiating from the cars around her. Then she spotted a car that radiated a warm golden energy and she went towards it. The woman in that car was sending her love. Her quote went something like this: “That stranger was sending me love! She was praying for me! I was so surprised and felt happy.” She was so warmed and fueled by these thoughts that she travelled back to her body to live. Here’s the clincher that made this a news story: That woman remained in a coma for six months. When she woke, she asked to find the person whose license plate was ——. Yes, she had remembered the license plate number of the car whose driver had sent loving thoughts. When they tracked down the owner of the car, the woman who had been in a coma thanked the driver, saying it was because of her that she could go back to her body and live.
Uh huh. Now, that was a rather powerful affirmation that sending love is more than a token gesture. And this was back in the day when stories that made the news were researched and accurate.
Since then, when I hear an emergency vehicle’s sirens, I always send blessings and love to those who need the emergency vehicle and eventually I also expanded that to include those operating the emergency vehicle. No matter what the reason for an emergency vehicle, somebody needs help. It’s not up to me to decide what kind of help, I just send the thoughts.
It’s simple to do. Take a breath. Connect to a feeling of love and compassion that you have experienced before. You could just imagine how much you love somebody, or feel empathy towards. Just feel that loving compassionate feeling even a little bit, even if you feel like you are ‘just imagining’ it, or making it up. Then imagine that feeling is an energy, or a bit of wind, or stardust, or heck, a helium balloon and send it off to where it is needed.
That’s it. And then trust it is doing whatever it needs to do.
We’ve all heard powerful stories of groups gathering and meditating for change, or of prayer groups and miracle healings. It works. But, you don’t need a group. One person’s thoughts makes a difference. And if a whole bunch of individuals send thoughts… that can only be good.
Now is a good time to practise. For Paris. And for whenever you sense people are hurting – physically, emotionally, and/or spiritually – and could use some love.
Musings of Janet L Whitehead 