It is early winter in this part of the world, and a grey day. There is little hint of the sun, other than the daylight. I love the sun, so when dark days like this occur, I feel grey. I feel grey about the turmoil in the world, such as the persecution of the Muslim Rohingya by the Myanmar Buddhists, the persecution of the Palestinians at the hands of its occupier, the state of Israel. I am appalled at the gruesome murder of New York Times journalist Jamal Kashoggi ordered by Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman of Saudi Arabia, and worried about the fate of those fleeing violence in Central America being greeted by violence at the southern border of the United States.
Even on the greyest of days the rays of sunshine break through the clouds to lift the spirit, and here is an old verse from the Rigveda to keep in mind while helping those suffering on the road.
When Bhujyu was self-bound and struggling in the sea, the creature was provided light and a Great Wind and like a flying bird carried to the highest dwelling, yes, a deed famous for compassion giving on the road.