This morning I woke up depleted. Hollow and heavy at the same time. My body feels weightless, yet my eyes are full, as if carrying a long night that has not yet ended. I am feeling the aftershock of what is unfolding in the Middle East. A kind of moral hangover. I feel like throwing up, throwing a fit, and throwing in the towel all at once.

I am grateful that my seven-year-old niece is here. Her hug, her radiant smile, her unfiltered love soften something in me. Through her, I am reminded that delight still exists. That even today, the sun and the clouds can coexist, shifting the sky into new moods as they continue their quiet dance.

I choose to hold a prayer for all humankind. A prayer for peace. I light a candle and watch its small flame warm my heart, and I imagine it warming the hearts around it. I send that light toward the lands I call home, lands of beauty, memory, and grief.

May my fasting be in service of peace.May the silence be a reminder of the love that still binds us to one another. I am offering my presence, my witnessing, my humanity to this moment