I wrote recently about conflict — not just as a political or interpersonal phenomenon, but as a field of energy that we all participate in, consciously or not. Whether the battle is waged across a dinner table or across oceans, in Gaza or in our own homes, each conflict is fed — or softened — by the energy we contribute to the world in thought, word, and deed.

None of us are separate from this. We are, each of us, part of the collective field. We breathe the same air. We drink from the same well of consciousness. And what we carry within us — our judgments, our fears, our unresolved pain — does not remain within us. It radiates. It ripples. It enters the shared energetic atmosphere, the same way joy and kindness do.

But there is something more I came to see. Something deeply human at the root of so much division and pain.

At the heart of all conflict, I believe, is a wound. A very old wound. And if you sit quietly with it, you may hear its voice:

“There is not enough love, (as in the Source of all things) for me.”

This is not a wound of the intellect. It is not healed by clever explanations or ideologies. It is the wound of forgetting who we are — forgetting that we are never, have never been, and could never be, separate from Love itself.

And yet, when the illusion of separation rises — when we feel unseen, unloved, or unworthy — the heart contracts. It grieves. And in that grief, the protective armoring of conflict takes shape. We fight not because we are evil, but because we are hurting. Because we’ve come to believe we must fight for a place at the table of love.

This belief, this ache of “not enough,” lies beneath every act of aggression, every reactive word, every cold silence. It fuels the stories of us versus them. It turns neighbors into enemies. It builds walls, not only on borders but within hearts.

And so, if we truly wish to transform the conflict in the world, we must begin with the place within us where that wound still whispers. The place where we have doubted our belonging, doubted our worthiness, doubted that Love — eternal, infinite, and already ours — could include us fully.

Healing begins when we meet that voice not with shame, but with compassion. When we say to that wound, “I hear you. I know you’ve been afraid. But Love has not abandoned you. You have never truly been separate.”

This is not passive work. It is the most courageous work we can do: to meet our own hearts honestly, to become vessels of remembrance in a world that has forgotten. Each time we soften instead of harden, forgive instead of accuse, breathe instead of react, we are changing the energetic landscape of the planet.

We may not be on the front lines of worldly conflict. But we are always on the front lines of consciousness. And in that sacred place, your peace is not a private gift — it is a planetary offering.

So let us keep returning — to the breath, to the heart, to that quiet knowing beneath all appearances:

There is enough love. There has always been enough. Because Love is what we are. And we do not need to fight for what already lives within us.

A Closing Blessing.

May you remember, even in moments of forgetting, that Love is nearer than your breath, and truer than any story of separation. May the old wound that whispers “not enough” be met with a tenderness so deep it dissolves in the light of your own being.

May your presence become a balm to this world, not by effort or striving, but by the quiet grace of a heart returned to wholeness. And may your life be a living prayer — a steady offering of peace to a world aching to remember itself as Love.

Nigel Lott. teaandzen.org

Meditation Sans Frontieres is a 501(c)(3) non profit charitable organization; contributions are tax-deductible as permitted by law. EIN is 81-3411835

Years ago, I was working as a therapist in a group where, among many, we held a simple but powerful agreement. We understood that in the complex dance of human relationships, conflict wasn’t just possible—it was inevitable. But instead of fearing it or trying to quickly smooth it over, we chose to meet it with presence. We treated it as a teacher.

One of our core practices was this: whenever a rift or tension arose between members, someone would ring a bell. At that sound, everything stopped. No one continued defending their position, analyzing the other, or withdrawing into silence. Instead, we paused… and turned inward.

In that sacred pause, each member was asked to reflect—not on what others had done, but on what they had contributed to the arising conflict. Even those who had said nothing, who seemed to be merely passive observers, were asked to participate in this inward turning. This often revealed the most startling truths of all.

Time and again, what we discovered was this: the “non-participants” were never truly uninvolved. Their thoughts—perhaps judgmental, fearful, or quietly resentful—had shaped the atmosphere of the group. Their silent reactions had joined the shared energetic field like unseen currents in a river. And those currents had contributed to the momentum that carried the conflict forward.

This changed how I understood conflict forever.

We are not isolated islands, bumping into one another occasionally. We are part of a field—an interwoven tapestry of emotion, thought, and intention. What we think, even privately, shapes this field. It influences how safe or unsafe others feel. It determines whether love or fear becomes the prevailing tone.

Thoughts create momentum. They ripple out beyond the mind in which they arise. And they merge with the currents of the collective, amplifying peace or fueling division.

From that realization, I began to live differently. I learned to check my thoughts for their content—not just as an exercise in self-awareness, but as a sacred responsibility. I began to ask myself: Is this thought life-giving? Is it aligned with harmony? Or will it sow discord, whether in the room around me or in the far reaches of the cosmos?

Because what I think doesn’t stay confined to me. It enters the shared field. It shapes the subtle energies in my immediate proximity and ripples outward in ways I may never fully see. And so I watch more carefully now, not out of fear, but out of love for the quiet power I’ve been entrusted with.

The bell we used was more than a cue for silence. It was a call to humility. A call to see that we are all responsible for what unfolds among us, whether in words or in silence, in action or in thought. It was a reminder that no one is a mere witness to life. We are all participants in its unfolding.

If we truly understood the power of our thoughts—if we recognized how deeply we shape the world just by the energy we hold—we would become far more tender with one another. More careful, not in the sense of walking on eggshells, but in the sense of reverence. Reverence for the subtle but mighty web of shared being that we all inhabit.

And perhaps, when conflict next arises—whether in a room, a relationship, or within the world—we might remember to ring the bell within ourselves. To stop. To listen. To ask not who is at fault, but what in me may be contributing to this moment. What thought, fear, or forgetting might be joining the field?

For in that awareness lies the possibility of true healing.

Nigel Lott teaandzen.org

Meditation Sans Frontieres is a 501(c)(3) non profit charitable organization; contributions are tax-deductible as permitted by law. EIN is 81-3411835

There are two kinds of intelligence: One acquired,as a child in school memorizes facts and conceptsfrom books and from what the teacher says,collecting information from the traditional sciencesas well as from the new sciences.

With such intelligence you rise in the world.You get ranked ahead or behind othersin regard to your competence in retaininginformation. You stroll with this intelligencein and out of fields of knowledge, getting always moremarks on your preserving tablets.

There is another kind of tablet, onealready completed and preserved inside you.A spring overflowing its springbox. A freshnessin the center of the chest. This other intelligencedoes not turn yellow or stagnate. It’s fluid,and it doesn’t move from outside to insidethrough the conduits of plumbing-learning.

This second knowing is a fountainheadfrom within you, moving out. Rumi

In essence, the heart cannot close.

It is eternal.

It is open by nature.

It is only the mind ….our thoughts, our defenses, our stories …..that create the illusion of distance from the boundless grace that lives within us.

Nigel Lott teaandzen.org

This reflection is freely given as part of a sacred offering. If it nourishes your spirit and you feel moved to help sustain this work, you’re warmly invited to support it through donation or by becoming a paid subscriber—not as a transaction, but as a gesture of shared devotion.

Thank You.

Meditation Sans Frontieres is a 501(c)(3) non profit charitable organization; contributions are tax-deductible as permitted by law.

EIN is 81-3411835

There is a field within you….not metaphor, not fantasy, but a real and living field of consciousness.

Some have called it Spirit, Soul, or Divine Presence. Physicists glimpse its echo in quantum fields….in the strange and beautiful truth that beneath what we call “matter,” everything is relationship, everything is entangled, everything is alive.

Long may your awareness of this Love abide….for it is not separate from you. It is what you are made of.

Your body, your thoughts, your breath…. are not things in isolation, but temporary expressions of a vast and connected reality in which everything influences everything else.

In the quantum view, even a particle unobserved still responds to the presence of awareness. Your attention matters. Your being matters…..literally and cosmically.

This is what the mystics have always known. That we are never apart from Love. That what we call God is not elsewhere, but the very fabric of being itself.

So when you feel lost or broken, when you fall into forgetting—know this:

Love has not forgotten you.

Just as an entangled particle still “knows” its twin across galaxies of space, so too does the Source remember you even when you cannot remember yourself.

You are not separate. Not from the Divine. Not from the whole. Not from Love.

You are entangled with all that is holy, and no distance….geographical, emotional, or spiritual…..can undo that truth.

The field remembers you. Love remembers you. Reality itself is holding you, even now.

The dance of atoms and the unfolding of grace are not so different. Both emerge from a vast intelligence that we cannot name, but which sings through every heartbeat, every longing, every sacred return.

You are not forgotten. You never were. Because at the most fundamental level—you are not separate from anything.You are already home. Love is not elsewhere.

Love is the field.

And it remembers.

This reflection is freely given as part of a sacred offering. If it nourishes your spirit and you feel moved to help sustain this work, you’re warmly invited to support it through donation or by becoming a subscriber—not as a transaction, but as a gesture of shared devotion.

Today we take a moment to honor the presence of the Mother….in all the ways she shows up in this life.

To everyone who’s ever given life, or cared for it… who’s held someone through pain, offered love without needing to be asked, listened deeply, or simply stayed close in the hard moments…..thank you. To the mothers of children. To those holding families or communities together.

To the quiet ones whose presence is a kind of medicine. To those who mother in ways that go unnoticed, and to those who have carried grief or loss with strength that often goes unseen… we see you. we honor you. we thank you.

And to the first Mother…..the Earth beneath our feet….who gives so much and asks so little… may we start to remember Her not just when it’s convenient or beautiful, but in how we live and what we choose every day.

And we honor the mothering spirit in each of us too….that part of us that knows how to care, how to protect, how to love what’s fragile and sacred.

May this day be a blessing. May we walk a little softer. Speak a little more kindly.

And do what we can to live in a way that honors all mothers…and the great Mother we all come from.

Nigel Lott teaandzen.org

If I speak from the heart….and in all truth, how else could I speak?….and in the language of metaphor, a black hole…the great void, the collapse of everything we think we know… feels to me like the passage through ego death, deep suffering, or the surrender into the unknown.

I have touched that place before…..many times. The silence where meaning dissolves. Where even light seems to vanish. And yet… something remains.

What lies on the other side?

I believe, with all that I am, that if anything endures beyond the breaking of form, and it does, I know…..it is Love. Not love as sentiment, nor as passing emotion…..but Love as the first and final truth. The primal intelligence. The living field that gives birth to stars… and to silence.

It is the Source of all things. The ground beneath what we call God. It needs no name….yet it calls us by ours. And in the end… or perhaps even here, in this breath… it is where we are returning. And in that return, we remember:

We never left.

Nigel Lott teaandzen.org

May you love and be loved, and know eternal peace in your heart forevermore.

Nigel Lott teaandzen.org

Meditation Sans Frontieres is a 501(c)(3) non profit charitable organization; contributions are tax-deductible as permitted by law. EIN is 81-3411835

I’m sharing this reflection today from lived experience.

I have known what medicine calls adrenergic storms—states of intense sympathetic overdrive that feel like pure terror in the body. It’s been a long time since I’ve had one, but recently, an episode returned. This time, something was different.

Instead of resisting, I surrendered.

And what I found…..once the intense wave had passed….was not devastation, but Love, the only place it could return to.

This piece arose from that experience.

There is a moment, quiet and unassuming, when we surrender to fear…..not in defeat, but in stillness. When the endless struggle to resist, to control, to outrun what frightens us finally breaks, something remarkable happens. We see. Not with the eyes of judgment or the mind’s tangled reasoning, but with the clear gaze of the soul.

Fear, like all illusion, thrives on resistance. It feeds on the stories we tell ourselves about danger and separation. But when we stop pushing against it, stop naming it as enemy, fear reveals its true nature: a doorway. A passage not into darkness, but back into the light we never truly left.

This is the grace of surrender. Not giving up, but giving over…..our burdens, our defenses, our need to understand. In that letting go, we find what was always beneath the fear: love. Gentle, abiding, and vast beyond measure.

As with all things, the illusion passes. The veil lifts. And what remains is not the terror we expected, but the truth that was waiting……patiently……for our return.

Love was always there. It only needed to be remembered.

Nigel Lott teaandzen.org

Meditation Sans Frontieres is a 501(c)(3) non profit charitable organization; contributions are tax-deductible as permitted by law. EIN is 81-3411835