Where the War Ends: Spiritual Activism Starts Within

The kids broke the bread and handed a chunk to me. And something in me broke open too.

On Friday, Gabriel and I were invited to a Shabbat dinner in Grass Valley by our new friend, Miriam.

Being new to this town, we jumped at the opportunity to connect with her and her friends. But if I'm honest, there was a part of me that paused. My own mother is Muslim and I was raised—partially—in an Islamic family. Given the immense pain we've collectively felt around the war in Gaza, and given my personal connection to people living under an Apartheid state (I was born in South Africa during the oppressive Apartheid regime and became "free" when I was 4 years old), there was a small voice inside that cried out: "But whose side are you on, Aria?"

We went anyway. After all, Miriam said it would be just one other couple this week.

Entering her home, we were greeted by a small group of kids, quickly followed by a wave of adults we didn't know. Turns out, last minute, every Jewish person in the county had shown up—over 20 guests. The one other couple who had RSVPd? A Rabbi and his wife from Sonoma County.

This warm, intimate community welcomed us in. As we chatted with other guests—some with heavy Israeli accents—the voice of righteousness became angry and started to scream at me. "Do these people support genocide? Am I even safe here? Shouldn't I say something about the war?"

Countering this was another voice: "You are safe here. These people are not your enemy. Many Jewish people oppose the war. Just breathe."

And so, just like in ceremony, I turned to BOLT—Breathe, Observe, Love, Trust. The practice that has carried me and countless others through the most challenging parts of our journeys.

As we finally settled to pray and eat, Miriam invited me to sit on her right side. I felt uneasy. Miriam was the host, a faith leader of her community who hosts bar/bat/n'nei mitzvah ceremonies. I didn't want to be centered. I wanted to hide in the corner. But Gabriel urged me to take the seat to her right, and I did.

I didn't want to be centered. I wanted to hide in the corner.

Having known Miriam for only a short time—experiencing her magic as a facilitator during a women's sauna experience she curated—I lovingly call her "Pachamama Rabbi." She has a gift for making everyone in the room feel seen. Her medicine songs carry codes of divine feminine wisdom that effortlessly give others permission to take up space.

She began the ceremony, inviting us to draw in the light of the candle, to fill our hearts with warm light, our bodies with the energy of the divine mother, to cleanse our spirits. Intuitively, she took my hand, squeezed it, and held on. Was she just being kind, or did she sense the silent war raging within me?

A voice whispered: "Be love, Aria. Be the love being that you are."

Was it an angel? The Goddess herself? My own Higher Self calling me back to what I know is true?

Miriam handed the floor to the Rabbi sitting to her left to share his wisdom about Shabbat and the significance of a sabbath. He spoke warmly about the importance of rest. His wife shared that the sabbath was for relational time rather than working—a refocusing on relating and being versus doing. The universal wisdom of these words touched me. Their kindness grounded me.

They blessed a chalice of wine and passed it around for each person to sip. The kids broke a loaf of bread and handed a chunk to me.

I felt the anger, fear, and pain start to recede. I asked myself: Where does the fighting end? When does conflict end? When does retribution end?

And the answer came as swiftly as the Goddess Tara herself: It ends here, within your own heart.

Tara is a major female deity in both Buddhism and Hinduism, revered as a compassionate savior, mother, and swift protector who removes fear, anxiety, and obstacles. Known as the "Mother of all Buddhas" in Tibetan Buddhism, she represents perfected wisdom and acts as a liberator from suffering.

Real Spiritual Activism Begins Within

The war raging in Gaza is beyond our immediate control. But the war raging within us? That is something we can shift.

This is the essence of true spiritual activism—not the kind that performs outrage on social media, but the kind that does the hard, unglamorous work of transforming our own consciousness first. Real spiritual activism recognizes that lasting change begins with the courage to face our own shadows, biases, and capacity for hate.

Real spiritual activism recognizes that lasting change begins with the courage to face our own shadows, biases, and capacity for hate.

Do we fight hate with anger and hate? Or do we alchemize it into love and acceptance?

Do we continue to seed separation? Or do we come together to share bread and wine, remembering that we are one human family?

I've watched well-intentioned advocates lose their grounding. Their words become violent and divisive, their hearts full of the very hate they claim to oppose.

It's okay to feel rage. It's okay to feel pain. It's sacred to allow those feelings to surge through you like a wave. But when we attack our neighbors, when we lose our ability to listen, when we make assumptions about someone's character based on the group they come from—we become seeds of hate in the world. We unintentionally perpetuate the division we're standing against.

The war in Gaza exists because two groups of people could not let go of hate, grieve their losses, forgive the past, heal the parts of themselves that want to hate, and return to love.

Let's not reflect that here in our communities. Let's show a different path—one of unity. Let our actions be living reflections of the kind of world we want to inhabit.

Advocacy is not limited to spreading awareness and raising money. Advocacy is also—and most importantly—building relationships that build bridges. Influencing change right where you are.

Advocacy is not limited to spreading awareness and raising money. Advocacy is also—and most importantly—building relationships that build bridges. Influencing change right where you are.

You cannot end the war in Gaza by sharing another Instagram post, but you can end the war in your own community. And it starts by ending the war raging within your own heart.

Practice: As Within, So Without

There is an ancient spiritual teaching: As within, so without. As above, so below.

Let's work with these one at a time.

As Within, So Without

To change the world, we first must transform ourselves. The world we see around us is a reflection of the state of our own consciousness.

Journaling prompts:

• Have you been feeding your mind with hate, anger, and pain?

• How can you feed your mind more forgiveness, compassion, and unity?

• What do you want your friendships and living situation to look like?

• What thoughts, media, or conversations do you need to release in order to manifest that vision?

As Above, So Below

The tree we see above the ground reflects the health of its roots. Our bodies are of the earth. Our physical health is linked to our mental health and overall wellbeing. And our spiritual health—the vibration we hold, the mission we serve, what we manifest—is influenced by both our physical and mental states.

Journaling prompts:

• Are you tending your roots the way a loving gardener would tend her favorite rose bush?

• Are you feeding yourself nourishing foods and clean water?

• Are you making time to move, stretch, exercise, dance, and sing?

• Are you balancing doing with being? Are you taking time for things you love?

• What activities, foods, or actions have you been engaging in that are starving your roots?

• What impact is this having on your mental or spiritual wellbeing?

• What do you want to engage in this coming week that more closely aligns with your mission and the vibration you wish to hold?

The path of the mystic, the ceremonialist, the priestess—is not to bypass the pain of the world. It's to metabolize it. To feel it fully, to let it move through us, and then to choose love anyway.

That's the real revolution.

That's how we change the world.

With love and fierce devotion,

Aria