In many of my previous writings, I refer to the ‘space between’ our thoughts and ‘things’ and our subsequent reactions to these things. The question is, how do these internal spaces interact with and influence the outer spaces of our lives?

The answer lies within the intentions behind our thoughts. How we direct our internal thoughts in our daily narrative influences what plays out before us externally. This is how we serve as portals for change.

This magical space is where we get to play director and ‘take a knee’ to contemplate our choices. The act of simply taking a pause moves us immediately from a ‘reactive state’ governed by the chaotic unconscious to that of an ‘active state’ of conscious choice. In other words, do we wish to create consciously or unconsciously the outcome of our circumstances?

To create consciously, we need to first be aware of the aspect of our personality being triggered by some ‘thing’. The best results emerge from sharing stories with simplicity.

One story I’d like to share is the of a book I used to read to my daughter every night before bed called,’ The Kissing Hand,’ written by the lovely author Audrey Penn. Its message is about trying to understand the mindset of a ‘bully’ as being a misguided soul acting out of contempt when confronted by feelings of inferiority. Bullies have an incessant need to be the ones ‘in charge’ all the time. Controlling others is how they feel powerful.

The mother of the ‘bullied’ character in the story encourages her child to act with compassion rather than contempt when confronted by the bully. She explains to her child that the bully is a wounded soul, looking to hide his pain by behaving badly. It is not easy to be friendly to a ‘bully’. And only other bullies remain in ‘bully groups.’ Birds of a feather, you know. Best to swim in warmer waters.

However, in my young daughter’s case, she so wanted to belong in a ‘friend group’ that she did not see the turbulent waters of the cesspool she was attempting to swim in.

She experienced a different side of the ‘bully factor’ by being excluded from the ‘girl groups’ that began forming early on. Lordy, I saw it emerging in kindergarten! By middle school, those waters were shark infested. So instead, I encouraged her to form her own alliances with the other castaways from the so-called ‘cool girls.’ As it turned out, many of them were formerly associated with these ‘clicks’ or bully groups and sent packing for one reason or another.

There was only one condition for membership in my daughter’s group. No one was the ‘leader’ and everyone was welcome so long as kindness and inclusion were always demonstrated. Opening the doorway to one’s sense of belonging is transformational and will lead to a path of better understanding others.

It is more than just discovering the good in people or seeking new relationships. These are the doorways to the space between. An opening into our own consciousness that leads to the discovery of all possibilities within a deeper realm of experience.

How we treat others, (and especially ourselves) matters. It is the way we interact with the world around us that moves us to think and engage in diverse ways so we may rise to the challenges of day-to-day life.

I am pleased to see the articles published lately that are heavily focused on the ‘re-framing’ of the mindset in the act of ‘taking pause’ when we are engaged in conflict or ‘triggered’ emotionally in some way. It moves us from ‘re-action’ to ‘action’ by creating the space needed to make shifts in our thought processes when interacting with the world. That ‘space’ could be the difference between life and death.

I think of this every time a mass shooting occurs. My mind is immediately catapulted back in time to my senior year of high school. Life was simpler then. When I think of the world my child is growing up in now, with active shooter drills, bans on books and bodies, and harmless drag shows, it makes me sad.

My intention for this post is NOT to get political. But seriously folks. What is more likely to cause severe injury or even death to your child? Is it a drag show or banned reading material? Or is it staring down the barrel of a gun? For me, this is a no-brainer. And for the love of God, what kind of world have we created when an innocent act of pulling into the wrong driveway or fetching a basketball that has rolled into someone’s yard gets you shot?

My early experience involved losing a loved one to gun violence. In fact, it was during the summer of my senior year that my girlfriend was shot and killed by her stepbrother. I cannot go into the details, but that memory bubbles to the surface every time I hear of these shootings. Those gunshots ring out in my mind, piercing my heart all over again as if it happened yesterday. That is how raw the wound still is, over forty years later. It NEVER goes away.

The questions still haunt me. What if I was there? Could I have stopped it? What if she had lived? Would she remember me? The answer came in a dream the other night. I dreamed of walking through her old neighborhood and showing her photograph to everyone I encountered. No one recognized her face, but one lady recognized her by name.

I asked if she could take me to her, and she said, “Yes, she is standing right behind you.”

I turned around to meet the eyes of a stranger. Her face was disfigured, and unrecognizable to me. That would make sense, as the bullet struck her in the face. She seemed not to have any idea who I was either. She shook her head no when I mentioned my name. But I did notice the very distinct birthmark on the side of her face that confirmed her identity to me.

In an instant, I was devastated all over again. But shortly thereafter, my thoughts suddenly shifted, and I became acutely aware of being in the ‘space between.’ It is in that ‘dream-like’ state where we are present in the realm of all possibilities. Was this an alternate version of what may have played out had she survived? Maybe…maybe not. But for me, the message of this version was clear.

If she had lived, she would not have remembered who I was. The memory of us was wiped away by a single bullet. Perhaps, to lose her in that way would have been even more painful, not to mention the physical challenges she would have endured.

When I awoke, the memory of my dream lingered for a while as I contemplated my feelings about it. My perspective of the events of the past had shifted. The heart that had been shattered so long ago finally felt ‘at peace’ for the first time in decades. I found myself suddenly filled with gratitude instead of anger.

They say God only gives you as much as you can manage. And I am now certain that her death was an act of his loving mercy on us both. “Thank you, God,” I whispered. “For not putting us through that.”

My dream sequence is the perfect example of recognizing a part of me that still suffers from my past when triggered by current events. The transformation begins when the mindset shifts from pain to compassion, patching the deep puncture wounds of trauma.

Every time that memory is stirred, it no longer sits at the bottom of the cauldron building layers upon layers of soot to sift through later. It is a process of healing, as with any buried trauma. It will continue to recycle its energy every time the wiring of that memory is tapped. However, when we address each uprising with compassion for ourselves and even the ones who may have hurt us, we set in motion a mindset of healing rather than one of pain and dis-ease.

I saw a quote the other day that sums things up here beautifully:

No amount of regret changes the past. No amount of anxiety changes the future. But any amount of gratitude changes the present.

– Marc & Angel Chernoff

Always seek the ‘higher ground’ in every situation…It just may save your life.