Tonight as I open up my computer to write, the above phrase jumped into my head – one of the names given to Kuan Yin, a female deity in Buddhist tradition, known to have supreme compassion as Mother to all beings. Having just traveled safely from Illinois to North Carolina through a miraculously open corridor of dry and open road in a country battered with storms coming this way from several directions, arriving just minutes before the big one moves in, I feel the loving watch of a compassionate Mother and want to acknowledge my gratitude. And having just gotten a letter from a friend who has recently lost a dearly loved one to suicide, as she attempts to make sense of what has happened I feel the Compassionate Mother speaking through her heart, mind and voice. She sees, loves, and offers true insight to the grieving.

There is one who mothers us, each of us, compassionately. Her visage and name come in many forms, from a variety of cultures and stories. She is the spirit and presence in all of them, true and real. My thanks to this Mother tonight as I sleep in the warm bed of a friend who has taken me in since my own home can’t be reached. I ask mercy for all who are challenged by these storms.