A Conversation Between Strangers
Last Friday, I led a meditation on love and letting go. During this meditation we created the space to be present with ourselves, to allow what needed to dissolve to dissolve, and polished our hearts as we tapped into the abundant and replenishing nature of love. As I continued my day, I saw love everywhere I went. From the bustling streets of Manhattan, sitting next to fellow subway passengers, to the sunny streets of Brooklyn — love was found where elders held hands, teenagers flirting, parents caring for children, flowers in bloom, and messages spread across storefronts and buildings.
Before I walked into an unassuming hardware store to pick up painting supplies, I took a photo of a sign that said “RUN LIKE YOU’RE ON YOUR WAY TO FREE PALESTINE.” After asking the man at the counter if he had a specific item, he mentioned he noticed me taking a photo of the sign and asked if I was for or against it. I responded that I am in support of Palestine and showed him the photo as I was pleased that “SPREAD LOVE” was reflected from the building sign across the street between the letters of his sign. From this moment on we shared an incredibly moving conversation about his experience being from Palestine and escaping the horrors he experienced. I listened, asked questions, and received the gift of wisdom and connection from a stranger that has blossomed into something greater beyond us.
With his enthusiastic blessing, I’m sharing with you pieces of our conversation.
His experience being from and in Palestine recently has created an immunity to death where he sees his people as the walking dead as they could die in any moment, and how his people have not been treated as equal humans with the same flesh and blood as others, and instead treated with less regard than the dogs roaming the streets.
The guilt of escaping Palestine and having the privilege and passport that granted him access to land that was safe has been heavy on his heart. Dealing with this survival guilt, in his words, “was a selfish necessity” as he needed to take care of people here in the US. These are the choices some of us have to make in life.
With everything that he’s been through, he has “not lost hope as there’s always a choice.” He said although we may be in circumstances that are not our choice, there is a choice to continue to hold on to hope, even when his people are dying unjust deaths every single day, minute by minute.
He met death at a very young age and shared the symbolic act of when children and others throw rocks at tanks that pass by as what is a rock going to do to a tank? It means “we have no fear and we will fight.” That’s the point, regardless of what Palestinians are confronted with — they will continue to fight for their lives, for their liberation.
With his practical and spiritual outlook on life and death — gratitude is what keeps him grounded and moving forward in his days. He recognizes his brothers and sisters have it worse, that there is always someone else that is going through hardships greater than his own, and he doesn’t take being alive for granted. We created space for him to validate his own hardships which he later shared how rare it is for him to do and to open and soften in the ways that he did.
A person who has survived hardship can foster and know gratitude deeply, and the mundane day to day living isn’t taken for granted. Perspective is expanded of what it means to be alive.
Between our conversation that spanned beyond the hour, I watched how he responded to difficult customers or familiar faces with so much patience and grace. There was a moment when I stood in his place at the front desk counter greeting his customers as he mixed paint in the back that I couldn’t help but feel immense gratitude for these unexpected moments in life and for him sharing his life with me while recognizing my own privilages. We can never fully be in someone else’s shoes, yet there are universal human experiences that connect us all beyond words, demographics, and labels. By taking time from your life to be curious about someone elses — there is immense power in this form of compassion — it’s fuel for understanding and evolving as a whole. This melts separation and creates more connection.
When I shared about the work that I’ve been doing over the past three years, I spoke about our Western society’s relationship and experience of death and those that I’ve worked with. How impermanence is the center of my work, and when we face our grief, loss, and impermanence — it can be one of the most illuminating, empowering, and beneficial practices in your life. From two completely different demographics and experiences — he could relate wholeheartedly. In his words, “Death always follows you. Don’t let death haunt you, you haunt death.”
As I needed to continue on with my day, I asked him what he would want most from others, if anything during this time, and his response was simple: learn the history verse blindly supporting, know the occupations, and who’s oppressing who. Understanding or taking the time to educate yourself is valued above performative allyship. When leaving with my supplies, and a few gifted items, we both received more value than any material item could offer us through a conversation between strangers.
Thank you for taking time out of your day to read this and for being here. I hope that you can cultivate more space to tend to yourself, that more love is found in your days, and meaningful connections are shared with those around you. As always, feel free to respond directly to this email with any thoughts or questions as I love seeing you in my inbox.
May we be held and supported through this time of grief and unforgettable loss. May we give as much as we take. May we love fiercely and fearlessly.
With an open heart,
Mangda