Everywhere, we see people who have not forgotten the imperatives of love and kindness, despite having the opposite meted out to themselves. I take heart from the words and actions of Sheik Abdul Ghani Aboughreis, back in Tripoli after release from the imprisonment imposed for his support of the Libyan opposition, who raised his voice to counsel forgiveness rather than revenge.
I was listening to this Van Morrison song, "Too Long in Exile," as I turned these thoughts over in my mind. Another way to express this feeling of surreality is as a kind of exile from one's true self, from the community, the nation of our hearts. Much as it pains me, I have to accept that Earth is my home planet. My ever-ready amazement at our indifference to The Golden Rule is my native condition, the crop I was created to sow. The wheel of history turns, boundaries and borders may not yield, but unlike the story Van Morrison tells, the return from inner exile is always possible: we need only wake up, wipe the surreality from our eyes, and take that first free breath.
Too long in exile
Baby those people just ain't, just ain't your friends
Too long in exile my friend
You can never go home again
Well that isolated feeling
Drives you so close up against the wall
Till you feel like you can't go on
You've been in the same place for too long
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