More than a year has passed since I set up "Dove's Eye View" in the middle of the night, on a whim.
I was depressed in those days at all the terrible situations in the world, especially in Iraq and Palestine. Nothing seemed to be going right; my government caused or assisted in the suffering of far too many people. However, listening to critiques on the left began to wear on me. Everybody was angry, everybody criticized everybody, solutions seemed impossible. I wanted some hope.
Two sayings motivate me here at Dove's Eye View:
What you put your attention upon grows
I would rather be happy than right.
I believe that harboring resentments and fear only poisons me. Justified resentments are the worst. I may think I'm right and the other party is terribly, evilly wrong, but resentment just eats me up. So twice a day I make a list of those resentments and fears and give them up to That Power which surpasses all understanding.
In my political life it's hard to practice these principles. Dove's Eye View is good practice.
Since January 2004 I have blogged whatever positive signs I could find in the Middle East: tiny shoots of peace breaking out between individuals, institutions, groups. When no such shoots appeared, I blogged cultural matters, or environmental issues, or sustainable agriculture. Often I posted my favorite recipes, because when all else fails, there's always dinner.
The whole business seemed a fool's project. Back in November hope seemed a rare commodity on the world stage. More than once I asked myself (and my friends) why I bothered. Was I just wasting time? Meanwhile, my list of recipes kept growing, and every day the referral logs kept showing searches for hummous, tabbouli, kafta, and red lentil soup, as many as 25 such requests each day.
I can't quit blogging when so many yearn for kibbeh recipes!
Six months into my blogging career, in July 2004, I was diagnosed with breast cancer - lots of it, invasive, requiring surgery and chemotherapy. This crisis brought me the greatest joys of my life so far: outpourings of love and support from family, friends, neighbors, acquaintances, strangers. Facing the fear of an early death forced me to throw myself upon that Greater Source with even more abandon. There's nothing like cancer to make life taste delicious, every moment of it, the quotidian and the sublime. I had paid lip service to the idea that "I'm not in charge, all will be well" for years, but now I really got to practice it.