I honor my ancestors who were stolen from Africa to slave on this continent.” “I honor the ancestors of this land, enslaved by the Spanish.” “I honor my ancestors who died in the concentration camps of the Nazis.” “I honor my ancestors who died in the Palestinian relocation camps.” “I honor my ancestors who died at the hands of the Stewards in our struggle for freedom.” “I honor those who will die in the struggles to come.” A silence fell on the table, broken by the sweet soprano voice of a young woman who sang a blessing in Hebrew. They drank the first cup of wine.

The truth is nobody ever really got it right, including myself. What we learned over the years is that the energy has a form and shape of its own. When a group works together collectively, everyone seems to intuitively follow the energy and to know when it has begun to fail.