Hope Becomes Reality

Yesterday's presentations of the Surgery Project gift was held at The War Remnants Museum in Ho Chi Minh City with one of my heroes, Madame Dang Hong Nhut officiating the ceremony. For more on her amazing story click here.

About 60 people gathered, mostly children, parents and officials of Viet Nam Victims of Agent Orange organization. Six children who had previously undergone reconstructive surgeries as well the children awaiting the next round of surgeries were both present.

Madame Nhut spoke about the types of surgeries and the impact they have on the children and families. Several were carried forward by parents because they cannot walk. The surgeries make walking on their own for the first time in their lives a reality. Many of the recipients are in their late teens, a critical time in life for becoming independent in living and working.

Asked to address the gathering, I stood looking out at the room full of beautiful, yet burdened faces and felt the weight and importance of offering a public apology for our government's decision to spray Agent Orange on their homeland and their people.

After the presentation Mr. Son, a Vietnamese veteran and American veteran Ray Cocks joined together to provide lively music and celebration.

Those receiving surgeries left the gathering to go directly to pre op appointments as the reconstructive procedures will be preformed sometime within the next two weeks. Please remember these courageous children and their families as they encounter this new and often frightening experience.

Thank you again to all who donated to CORE's Children's Surgery Fund. You have helped to bring hope of a healthy and productive future to these children and their families.

Gifts Flow Both Ways

Gifts Flow Both Ways

My intention was to write a second blog post during our free day yesterday, but instead  found myself going with the flow of life around me so I enjoyed riiding a bicycle in Hoi An, visiting with wonderful Vietnamese friends and climbing beautiful Marble Mountain. Another full day!

Under the great leadership of John Fisher and guide Vu Duc Anh (Anh) we've managed to pack a lot in, and each experience deserves much more than a mention, but time is tight.

On Saturday, We held a simple, but  moving Memorial ceremony at the feet of the beautiful 40 story white marble Quan Am near Da Nang for 4 veterans who've recently passed, all due to cancer caused by agent orange.

The team's humanitarian work has included  gifting a cow to a very poor woman who was so happy to hear she would be receiving a cow that she wasn't able to eat or sleep for 2 days. Through a translator she said she kept thinking it was a dream!

In Hue, The team also presented scholarships to 22 students enabling them to continue their education. In VN children receive free education through grade 5 and after that families must pay for them to continue making it impossible for many. These students are all very hard working, but without the scholarships they could not afford to continue their schooling or pursue their dreams. 

We've held two of three clinics so far. The first was at Friendship Village, a facility started by an American veteran, where young adults affected by agent orange are taught a marketable trade, and also a place where Vietnamese veterans can go for respite and treatment.  The second clinic was held in Hue at a home for the disabled and elderly.

During clinics participants are first anointed with essential oils made possible through a very generous donation given by Young Living Oils. Several drops are placed in the palms which they rub together and then inhale. The healing properties of the plants in the oil help to relax, calm, and release tension, clearing the way to receive healing through touch. Each participant receives a chiropractic adjustment from John Fisher followed by body work from one of our 3 very gifted massage therapists, Tonya Mayes, Valerie Broas and Michael Broas. Time passes quickly, as veteran Ray Cocks plays his guitar and sings for those who were waiting. 

The effects of war on clinic participants are obvious and numerous. Missing and deformed limbs, faces holding years of tension from pain, and scares of bullet wounds provide blatant reminders of the toll of war on the human body. Despite the physical residue of war the Vietnamese people posess a mysterious inherent joy, most likely the result of their willingness to forgive.

Before we began the clinic at Friendship Village, veteran participants were asked where they'd served during the American war. Almost all responded the Central Highlands region highlands, which happens to be where 3 of the vets on our team served. This created a swell of energy as we all sat with the likelihood that former enemies would soon be giving and receiving healing from one another through skin to skin touch. There's not an ounce of doubt that during clinics gifts run both ways. There's a palpable sentiment amongst the team, that we receive much more then we give. That's the healing power of love!

After the clinic, veteran Michael Boras shared the story of asking a VN veteran about what appeared to be a bullet wound in the middle of his back, to which the man responded "American". Then the man proceeded to lay face down on Michael's table in total trust, an amazing gesture of forgiveness!

Memorial Day love from Viet Nam, Paula

From the Land of Love and Healing!

We've been on Vietnamese soil for just over 3 days and already the team is feeling very full! The radical hospitality of these people and this land is truly beyond words, but I'll give it my best try by sharing a couple of highlights in the very short amount of time available.

On our first full day we traveled by bus, boat, and tram to reach the beautiful Perfume Pagoda near Hanoi. At the top of a lush mountain we made our way to the opening of a huge womb like cave todiscover large altars overflowing with incense, flowers and offerings to ancestorrs and Buddhists monks, nuns and novices drumming and chanting. The sounds were mesmerizing as the ceremonial vibrations penetrated the Earth, bringing a sense of healing and protection to a land which has known hundreds of years of war and trauma. Like a prayer from the inside out!

I learned that this is the place of pilgrimage that each Vietnamese Buddhist is expected to make at least once in their life time.  Having traveled through the countryside and seen the extreme living conditions of the people, I can only imagine the hardship and sacrifice it might take for many to accomplish this dream. I was mindful of my own privilege in having arrived in this sacred place with ease, and I also sensed this powerful experience the blessing of our team and the pilgramage we're making.

A beautiful, and talented 26 year old Vietnamese woman named Quinn Pham has a special relationship with trip leader John Fisher. We were so happy that she was able to join us for our 1st 2 days. On the 2nd day she accompanied us to the countryside village where we were welcomed into the very humble home of her grandparents Pham Din Cgang, 89 and Nguyen Thi Quanh 75. Cgang (her Grandfather) was a soldier for decades fighting against the French, and also serving as the personal body guard of General Giep, the most prominent military leader in Viet Nam's war for independence, not only from the Americans but the Chinese, Japanese and French as well. He is a tiny, spry man with an uncontainable spirit and a smile that is beyond contagious. It struck me he seemed to be one of the happiest people I've met, despite the fact that he's seen so much war and destruction of his people and his land. 

Our guide Anh explained it beautifully by saying "The way of the Vietnamese people is not to carry anger from the past into the present. What is in the past is over, so there is not room in our hearts to carry hatred. Love in the present moment is what matters."  

I found myself imagining what the world look like if we all followed the way of Viet Nam, the Land of Love and Healing!

                           

                                    American and Vietnamese Veterans united as friends!

Letting Go

Tomorrow I begin a different kind of journey to Viet Nam. In the past I've gone alone and settled into a daily routine of working in the orphanage, exploring Ho Chi Minh City and getting to know the neighborhood where I live. Now I'm looking forward to joining a group of eight others through CORE Viet Nam, a non profit founded by my friend, veteran and Chiropractor John Fisher.

CORE stands for Community Reconciliation and offers American veterans and civilians opportunities to learn ways of reconciliation and peace from a country that has endured decades of war. The friendliness of the Vietnamese people and the Buddhist principles of simplicity, forgiveness and "letting go" permeates the culture and opens the way for healing.

Our team is comprised of veterans, body workers and civilians. While in Viet Nam we'll be hosting clinics in several locations including an orphanage and a home for the elderly as we make our way from Hanoi (in the north) to Ho Chi Minh City (in the south). We'll also be presenting scholarships for children to attend school, purchasing ceiling fans and medicine for a home for the elderly, and gifting a cow to a farmer who struggles to feed his family.

The other important aspect of this journey will be to accompany veterans to the places they need to go for reconciliation and healing. I'm amazed at the courage of these vets and feel honored to support their healing process.  When one human heart heals we all become more whole.

My greatest joy in preparing has been your extraordinarily generous response to the request for donations for the Surgery Project. You far exceeded our expectations by giving a total of over $16,000 ....enough for 12 reconstructive surgeries for children! This will help ease the burden of 12 extended families whose children will now be able to lead more independent and productive lives. 

Your gifts also send a message to the people of Viet Nam that there are Americans who truly care and want to help relieve suffering caused by the war our government engaged in almost 50 years ago. You've shown that out of war can come gestures of generosity and peace. So thank you from the depths of my being for caring. And a special bow of gratitude to a dear friend whose huge heart and generosity put us over the top! You know who you are!

So today as I'm getting ready I feel myself letting go. Letting go of lists of things at home that need my attention, letting go of my concerns about traveling so far from family and friends, and letting go of expectations about what this journey will bring. I'm learning that when I'm able to "let go" it's easier to recognize and celebrate the mysterious and unexpected miracles along the way, and there will be many!

I'm grateful to each of you, to John Fisher, Lindsley Field, my fellow travelers, my very supportive family and to the people of Viet Nam especially the children.

Much love, and more to come,
Paula

Thoughts on War and Healing

It doesn’t take long to recognize the tragic cost of war on the lives of our nation’s soldiers, veterans and their families. High numbers of divorce, addiction, homelessness and sky rocketing suicide rates are strong indicators that those who serve our country continue to carry the burden long after leaving military service.

But how does war affect those of us who don’t serve, or don't have a loved one who's served. The cultural myth is that it doesn’t. Carefully calculated military regulations and censoring keeps it off our radar screens to the extent that it’s easy to imagine that many of us might go days or even weeks without a single conscious thought that our country is currently at war.

It’s easy for those of us who don’t serve to become oblivious to the agony of those who do. There’s no blame or shame in that statement, it’s just the natural way we protect ourselves from the intolerable truth.  The extreme horror and tragedy of war and what it does to people are unfathomable and literally heartbreaking, so we stay at a safe distance.

But does this self protection actually benefit us as a whole?

The growing divide between those who serve and those who don’t often leaves veterans feeling misunderstood, isolated and desperate. Evidence of this is that life becomes so intolerable that approximately 22 die by suicide each day, equating to about 1 every 65 minutes. Three times as many veterans who served during the Viet Nam war have died by suicide, than while in combat.

Many civilians, who truly want to understand and help don’t really know how or where to begin. No one teaches us and there’s no map for that anymore, so out of confusion and fear, we turn away and disconnect.

If one portion of our human family feels isolated and alone, and another part feels disconnected and helpless than we're divided and none of us are living whole and fulfilling lives. That’s a consequence of war, fragmentation and separation…. from ourselves, from our families and from our communities. Like a roadside bomb, war blows lives and relationships apart.

The myth buster here is that wars funded by our tax dollars and the sacrifice of our young people really belong to all of us, a collective karma. And what belongs to us, effects us, whether or not we realize or acknowledge it.  I imagine that if more of us allowed ourselves to know  the facts about what war does to people and to our planet, we'd see ourselves as a broken hearted nation and we'd do everything within our power to find peaceable solutions to conflict.

If we can allow ourselves to know and grieve the realites of war together, we can move toward becoming  a strong and united force for peace. But, that will require a commitment to personal introspection and to deep listening. It will mean a willingness to be vulnerable to the truth. It will mean sharing a burden which rightfully belongs to all of us. 

And it will mean healing.

With love and hope!
Paula

Reminders of Love

The Earth has made almost one complete orbit around the sun since I’ve been with the children in room 1 at Peace Village. Not one of the 365 days has passed without me at some point, feeling as though I was transported through time and space back to that place.  Sometimes my virtual visit is no more than a brief 10 second glance, and other times I linger longer peering into cribs, marveling at imagined new accomplishments and growth spurts. Some days I allow myself the time to sit on the floor, feeling their soft skin, warm breath, and the weight of their little bodies as I become their jungle gym.

A friend recently asked how it could be that I find joy in the midst of these children when they are such graphic reminders of the atrocities of war. After babbling on about all the things I love about them and all the joy they bring, I heard myself say “They are SO much more than reminders of war, they’re also great reminders of love.”

As a result of that conversation I’ve been thinking about how these children embody such a wide spectrum of the human condition. Their physical distortions remind me of what humanity becomes responsible for when we allow fear to escalate into hatred and war. At the same time their spirits reveal all that we’re capable of when we live from a place of love and trust. Each precious little body, a sacred container of mysterious wholeness. They've been born into brokenness with an indestructible drive to survive and to love.

These kids manifest love and courage by simply being who they are, moment by moment. And by being who they are without cosmetics or cures, they shine a bright light exposing our undeniable collective human shadow.

Maybe I’m drawn to the children because they provide a mirror, allowing me to see myself more fully.  When I see and hold their broken bodies, I somehow sense my own brokenness by realizing the destruction I’m capable of when I speak and act from a place of over inflated ego and fear. And when I witness their amazing grace and fortitude, I realize my own courage and capacity to trust and love. I’m finding that the more I’m able to learn about myself, embracing the shadow as well as the light, the fuller life becomes and the more I have to offer.

I'm so grateful for these reminders of love that come 365 days later, from half a world away!

Blessings and Love to each person reading this post, and to the children of Peace Village on this first day of a new lunar year, Paula

Farewell To My Four Year Old Teacher

This morning I received an email from a friend in Viet Nam, Dr. Thuy Pham Thi,  pediatrician of Peace Village. She wrote to let me know that in early July a viral infection caused many of the children to become very ill. Several of them were taken to a special children's hospital in Saigon for intensive care. One little girl was not strong enough to fight the illness and she quietly transitioned from this realm.

Her name is Ngoc Houng and she was four.

This news leaves me very sad, but also with a deep desire to share what I remember about Houng.  I want to bring her out of Peace Village and into your heart, so you can know her and love her with me. I want her life to matter, because inside her broken little body lived a most amazing spirit!

Houng had an enlarged head due to hydrocephalus, webbed fingers and toes, and a weakened heart caused by ancestral exposure to Agent Orange. Her family was from an area of Viet Nam where large amounts of the toxin had been blanketed on the land and its people sometime between 1961 - 1971.  They were very poor and when she was born "different" they knew they would be unable to provide the care she'd need, so they left her at the orphanage as a newborn. Her trip to the hospital in early July was the first and final time she had ever been outside.

When I met Houng in 2012 she was just beginning to take her first steps using a walker, despite Drs. predictions that she was not capable of learning to walk.  When I returned in 2013, we enjoyed many strolls down the long corridor together. I would stand just behind her and she'd wrap both of her little webbed hands tightly around my fingers. With complete presence and focus we would set out together on our walking meditation. She set the pace, each step another silent success. Houng wasn't able to speak, yet her spirit communicated volumes about the joy she felt at her accomplishments.

Houng loved being out of her crib and often sat in the doorway of room 2 lining up the nurses shoes which were left just outside the door. Although she wasn't always confident enough to join in, she enjoyed watching the hallway action from the sidelines. It was easy to recognize that she was a child at peace.

I found myself very drawn to her, and she became a teacher for me. I was in awe of her gentle presence, quiet fortitude and fierce grace. She helped me to see that when we continue to move forward from our internal core source of strength, one step or one breath at a time, we can accomplish the unthinkable.

Very appropriately, the shirt she's wearing in the picture below says SUPERHERO!  I took it on my last day at Peace Village, just before saying goodbye.

So farewell, my four year old teacher, you will always be my superhero!