Be the Change, Stand for Peace

Working with the energy of Guardian Angel 39 Rehael, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how we approach history, especially when it comes to colonialism and the conflicts in the Middle East. There’s this delicate balance between respecting the past and not letting it define who we are or how we act in the present. This brings me to a concept I’ve found really valuable: filial submission—the idea of honouring what came before while still being responsible for creating our own path forward.

Now, more than ever, I believe we need to find ways to respect all sides and embrace peaceful action, especially when it feels like the world is pulling us toward division. History is complicated, but rewriting it to fit a specific agenda or narrative isn’t the answer. It’s one thing to acknowledge the wrongs of colonialism, for example, but another to only focus on one side of the story, erasing any contributions or complexity. That’s not how we learn, and it’s not how we heal.

When I think about demonstrations we see today, especially regarding the ongoing Israel-Palestine conflict, I find myself reflecting on what real peace looks like. A recent example stands out to me. Israeli memorial events tend to be quiet, respectful, and they don’t interrupt public life. Yet, I’ve seen Palestinian protests turn into something that causes public disruption, with flags of terrorist organisations on display. And I ask myself, how does this lead to peace? How can we change things if we aren’t focused on peace at our core?

The truth is, if we want to be the change, we have to stand for peace in every sense. It means not provoking the public, not antagonising the police, and not escalating tensions with symbols that fuel hatred. Real peace comes from action, yes, but peaceful action—one that respects others, even when we disagree.

And that’s where filial submission comes in again. To me, it’s about recognising the weight of our history and our ancestors’ struggles, but it’s also about knowing when to evolve. Rehael’s energy teaches us this: hold onto what’s valuable from the past, but don’t let it drag you into repeating cycles of pain. We have the responsibility to act with integrity now, and that means choosing peace, even when it’s hard.

This lesson feels deeply personal to me. It’s made me reflect on how much of my own history I carry and how it shapes my perspective on the world. I have no desire to rewrite the past or seek revenge for the injustices my ancestors faced. For instance, my ancestors were forced to leave their homes in Asia Minor in the 1920s due to their Christian faith. I don’t harbor anger or resentment over it. Instead, I choose to learn from that experience, grow, and apply the lessons to the present.

So, how do we apply this on a personal level? How do we balance honouring the past with moving forward in peace? Here’s what has worked for me:

1. Respect History, Don’t Rewrite It: We all come from somewhere, with our own stories and legacies. It’s important to acknowledge the truth—whether it’s the pain of colonialism or the contributions that came from it. But rewriting history to suit a particular narrative won’t heal wounds. We can’t erase the painful parts or pretend only good things happened. Instead, we must face the past honestly and move forward.

2. Demonstrate Peacefully, With Integrity: If you believe in a cause, show it, but do it in a way that fosters understanding rather than conflict. I’ve learned that true change comes when we protest with compassion, not aggression. No matter how justified the anger may feel, waving flags tied to violence and provoking the authorities won’t bring us closer to peace.

3. Respect Others, Even When It’s Difficult: It’s not easy to respect those we disagree with, but it’s essential for real progress. Filial submission calls for humility—it’s about letting go of ego and pride, accepting that sometimes we’re not always right, and striving for a greater good.

4. Evolve, Don’t Get Stuck: We honour the past by learning from it, not by being bound by it. There’s a time to let go of old grudges, even if they feel justified, and a time to focus on building a future where peace can thrive. I’ve had to reflect on what I carry with me and how much of it serves me now. Sometimes, letting go is the most powerful act of all.

In the end, being the change and standing for peace means acting from a place of understanding. It means not letting history become a weapon we use against each other, but a teacher that guides us forward. It’s personal, it’s ongoing, and it’s something each of us can embody.

Let’s commit to creating a future built on respect, integrity, and peace. We’ve all got the power to be the change—so let’s stand for it together.

This is not about lecturing or pointing fingers; it’s about sharing what I’ve come to believe and how we can apply these lessons in our own lives. I hope this resonates with you, and maybe, it’ll spark some reflection on how we can all contribute to a more peaceful world.

Let’s be the change. Let’s stand for peace.

A Lesson in Listening: Finding Peace in Challenging Conversations

One day at work last week, making a series of  straightforward phone calls, one conversation stood out, not because of its content alone, but because of the emotions and beliefs it evoked. It was a dialogue filled with frustration, judgment, and deep-rooted opinions on some of the most sensitive global and religious topics.

The gentleman I spoke with was passionate, particularly about the ongoing situations in Lebanon and Gaza. He was adamant in his views, blaming Zionist Jews for creating the turmoil in the region. His stance went further, touching on topics of religious significance, including the second coming of Jesus. He believed that Zionist Jews and Zionist Catholics alike were opposed to this divine event, and that God's punishment was imminent.

I listened carefully. There was a part of me that wanted to respond with the same intensity, to counter his judgments, and argue against his sweeping generalisations. But something inside told me to take a different approach. I reminded him, and myself, that we don’t know when the second coming will happen, and more importantly, that God’s judgment is far beyond human comprehension. It is not for us to condemn entire groups of people, whether they be Jews, Catholics, or any other.

The conversation shifted to politics and corruption. He expressed disillusionment with leaders who don’t keep their promises and a sense of hopelessness in a world filled with suffering. Once again, I responded calmly, agreeing that the world is indeed imperfect. But I also shared my belief that despite the negativity we often hear, good things are happening behind the scenes—things that don’t always make it to the headlines.

Throughout this exchange, I felt torn. On one hand, I recognised that he had valid points—about corruption, suffering, and the complexity of the world’s problems. On the other hand, I felt uneasy with his judgments about entire communities. I knew that arguing with him would only escalate tensions, so I chose to focus on listening, offering gentle responses where I could, but mostly allowing him the space to express himself.

What struck me most was how easy it could have been to fall into old patterns of reacting and arguing with someone whose views clashed with mine. But I’ve learned the value of stepping back, of recognising that not everyone shares my beliefs, and that’s okay. I realised that sometimes, the best response is simply to listen.

In this situation, I found solace in the idea of releasing old patterns, of not letting them control me. It reminded me of the Guardian Angel Aniel, whose presence encourages us to break free from outdated habits and embrace a more peaceful path. I also thought of YEIAZEL, the heart angel of the day, who brings divine consolation and comfort—a soft landing for the heart in difficult times. Who also encourages us to listen.

This experience taught me that not everyone will have the same expectations or beliefs about the future, especially regarding something as profound as the second coming. It also reminded me that if I am unsure about certain facts or beliefs, there is no need to argue—sometimes, it’s enough to simply listen, to let others feel heard, and to trust that, in the end, it is God who will judge us all.

Ultimately, this conversation reinforced an important lesson for me: we live in an imperfect world, but we don’t have to let that imperfection lead to division. Instead, we can choose to be patient, compassionate, and understanding—even when we don’t agree.

Take a Moment to Reflect:

• Have you ever found yourself in a conversation where you were challenged to listen rather than react? How did it make you feel?
• When faced with differing opinions or beliefs, what helps you stay calm and compassionate?
• How do you personally practice patience in moments of frustration or disagreement?
• Do you find comfort in the idea of divine guidance or the belief that unseen good is happening behind the scenes?

 

Feel free to add your own comments and share your experiences below. I'd love to hear how you navigate these moments in your own life.