Is there really a war
being waged right now?
Or is constant struggle
simply life on Earth?

Rose gathers herself, centers attention, all eyes focused, undistracted, relaxed, and open to what arises, they ask Her:
How can we be kind without appearing to be weak?
Can we be open without risking our positions?
How can we welcome outsiders and not fear losing everything?

"If crowds are moved by madness," Rose prays, "Let us be still"

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