There are moments when the weight of the world presses in so fully that words will not come.
I sat before my screen for hours, heart unsteady, thoughts scattered, unable to shape a sentence. Everywhere I turned, the noise of a restless planet seemed to rattle my very cells.
So I closed my eyes and whispered a prayer to the unseen:
Light, I feel fractured. Please lend me your light. Help me find my center, my peace, my calm.
Time became soft. Somewhere in the distance a song began to play—
Leave your light on… when the world’s gone crazy… drifting out to sea… leave a light on… leave your light on.
The words moved through me like a tide. I wept. And I wept.
In my mind’s eye a vision arose: a lone polar bear adrift on a shrinking sheet of ice, the vast ocean stretching endlessly around. Its home, its very world melting away. The polar bear was me. And not just me: it was all of us. A species at the edge of change. A collective heart breaking for what is ending, for what cannot be restored.
Grief welled up from a place older than thought. I felt the pain of the Earth, the sorrow of animals, the ache of humanity. Through tears I repeated the words of Ho’oponopono—
I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.
Each phrase a thread of love offered to a wound I could not name.
I felt an answer to my prayers as the Light descended all around me, offering a soft warmth. It wrapped around me and bloomed from within, like a mist of pure love.
The image of the polar bear faded into a quiet yet keep knowing:
I had touched the Collective Consciousness—the shared field of sorrow, hope, and memory that lives beneath all our lives.
The wound was not only mine; it belonged to us all.
And in the very center of that grief was a presence—steady, luminous, unbroken. The Light that is Spirit, that is within each and every one of us.
What this Deep Experience Revealed to Me
When we open this wide, we may feel as though we are drifting far from shore. Yet the “deep” is not meant to drown us.
It is a call inward—a reminder that beneath fear and chaos there is a current of love that holds everything. Everything.
To enter the deep is to meet the truth of our interconnection.
To return from it is to bring that truth back into daily life.
Practicing Ho’oponopono brought softness to the pain. The practice of Subject ~ Object ~ Subject become a sacred bridge between my outer and inner worlds.
Subject ~ Object ~ Subject
The Object is the outer world—the headlines, the heartbreak, the polar bear on melting ice.
The Subject is the inner world—the witnessing Self who can feel it all without being lost.
The movement is a dance: we notice the pull of the outer, we pause, and we return to the inner.
It is how we reclaim our energy and regain our hope when the collective sorrow feels too heavy to bear.
A gentle way to practice Subject Object Subject
Recognize the Pull
When the world tugs at your heart, quietly name it: Something has stirred me. My energy is reaching outward.
Pause and Breathe
One slow inhale, one longer exhale. Imagine gathering your scattered light back into your body.
Witness with Compassion
Feel the sensations—tight chest, trembling hands—without judgment.
Let them be evidence of how deeply alive you are.
Return to the Subject
Sense the steady presence beneath the storm.
Here, you are not separate from the world’s pain, and yet you are held by a love vast enough to contain it.
A Collective Homecoming
My experience with the polar bear was not just a private vision; it was a reminder that we are all part of one breathing, feeling whole.
The grief we carry is shared.
So is the light.
Each time you bring your attention back to the quiet center within, you help the collective heart to heal.
Every breath, every loving thought, is a ripple of peace moving through the field we share.
Leave your light on.
Not only for yourself, but for the world that is aching, and awakening, right alongside you.
Leave your light on. We are the Light.