A pro-peace plea in a time of war
A personal reflection on war, division, and why “being pro-peace” is the only side I’m on.
Before I begin: this is not a political analysis. I don’t have the credentials or depth of knowledge for that. This is a personal reflection — a plea for peace, compassion, and the way we treat one another in times of war.
I don’t know what possessed me to write about war and peace this week.
But possessed I became. On Thursday night, words insisted on being saved as an audio recording. That’s unusual for me. I did as my inner voice said and spoke aloud in my kitchen about the Israel–Gaza conflict.
The next morning, instead of my usual morning pages where I ask, “Love, what would you have me know today?”, what poured out was some kind of call-to-peaceful-arms-over-war.
I don’t write about geopolitics. I watch ABC News daily here in Australia, so I know broadly what’s going on, but I don’t pretend to understand the ins and outs of who did what and why. I also have a terrible memory (the joys of ADHD), so there’s no cumulative knowledge happening here. I'd have to study international affairs properly to retain it.
Yet here I am, about to speak on a painful, polarising issue using words that came to me via channelling. They don’t feel entirely mine. And at the same time, they do.
I hope readers won’t ‘give me a serve,’ as we say here in Aus, for misunderstanding the war or minimising what’s happening. I can’t control how this lands, only my intent.
I am pro-peace. I don’t think there can be an argument against that.


I consider myself a lefty. I care about human rights, social justice, and the environment more than whatever sits under the right-wing umbrella.
Many of my community have marched for MeToo, for Black Lives Matter, for climate action, protests where a perpetrator was clearly named: violent men, racist systems, neglectful governments.
In the early days of this conflict, people took to the streets to call for an end to violence, to ‘Free the hostages’ and ‘End the war’. Then it became ‘Free Palestine’. Then, more broadly, ‘Pro-Palestine’. And recently, I heard chants of “Death to the IDF.”
I don’t know if that moment at Glastonbury — Bobby Vylan’s performance and the crowd’s response — reflected leftist politics, but it was a protest. I didn’t like it.
I have a problem with how some expressions of “Pro-Palestine” activism have been weaponised into hate speech and violence.
That is not the same as calling for justice for Palestinians or peace.
I have a problem with dehumanising rhetoric that wishes death on anyone.
I have a problem with Zionist extremists whose words and actions fuel fear, violence and Islamophobia.
We can call out governments and military actions without calling for the destruction of their people.
Hate speech doesn’t liberate. It wounds.
What’s happening on the streets of my city, Melbourne, hurts me.
It scares my friends.
I have Jewish friends.
I am aware of the power imbalance between Israel and Gaza. I know about the incomprehensible human loss. I know there are dead hostages and more awaiting release. I know innocent adults and children are dying in Gaza every day. I believe Hamas is a terrorist organisation that must be stopped. And I believe Netanyahu is a tyrant.
But a government is not its people.
Hitler was not representative of all Germans.
Pol Pot was not representative of all Cambodians.
Netanyahu is not representative of all Jewish people.
And yet, I’m hearing of attacks on innocent Jewish Australians.
The news reported that an East Melbourne synagogue was set alight last weekend, and a CBD falafel restaurant was stormed. A few months ago, a group of local creatives, including my writing mentor, were doxxed. Anti-semitic graffiti and signs have been plastered across my local Labour councillor’s office window.
This misdirected anger, hurting worshippers, families, local creatives and shopkeepers, is not resistance. It’s rage.
And rage will not win peace.
Surely, we can call out injustice without tearing our community apart?
My Jewish friends are sick to their souls. They’re scared. They feel persecuted. And at the same time, their hearts are breaking for the people of Gaza. They’re ashamed of what their government is doing. They’re speaking out, too.
Vilifying people based on race or religion — where does that road end?
Will we turn on Lebanese Australians for President Aoun’s decisions? Ostracise Iranians because of their leaders’ nuclear ambitions? Does it make sense to blame Trump supporters for all that he stands for?
War dominates the news. But it doesn’t have to dominate our streets.
Australia is a sanctuary for many.
I came here a decade ago to heal from childhood trauma. Others come for sun, surf and better salaries. Some come as refugees for safety and to start again. In our patchwork suburbs of Sudanese, Ukrainian, Jewish, Greek, and Vietnamese, we build lives alongside each other, creating a rich tapestry of diversity.
We are one country. United by the experience of migration. Unless you’re First Nations, your ancestors came from somewhere else, too.
We were (mostly) raised - hopefully raised - to be open-minded. Curious and neighbourly. At the very least, civilised.
So, I implore us all now:
Think before you post or comment online.
Ask if your outrage might be hurting someone innocent.
Remember: you can be pro-Palestinian and anti-violence. You can be heartbroken for Gaza and horrified by antisemitism.
Because governments are not their people.
To the haters
This part is for the angry ones doing the attacking.
Please, lower your verbal and physical weapons.
Every day people living their lives in Australia have nothing to do with this war.
They didn’t start it. They can’t stop it. They’re not to blame.
Don’t let the actions of a political leader 15,000 kilometres away destroy our unity here.
We don’t need more fear.
We need solidarity.
Powerful, peaceful protest.
Jews, Palestinians, Iranians, Lebanese — every race and religion — march together, PRO-PEACE.
Because only love can cast out the darkness.
And I want to be part of the solution.
The spiritual bit
This is my familiar language and how I live and cope with what’s going on in the world.
Dr. David Hawkins, in his work on consciousness, mapped out a spectrum for how we vibrate or exist in the world. Joy, peace and love are the higher end, and anger, fear and shame on the lower. He essentially provides a measurement for our ‘vibe’. (Read about it here.)
He claimed that when we’re embodying love, we’re vibrating at 500Hz. He writes that,
“1 individual at level 500 counterbalances 750,000 individuals below level 200”.
I don’t care if you question the science of spirituality here. I choose to believe in what feels good.
I see the ripple effect daily. I see evidence of joy and love reflected at me as I walk around, smiling at strangers in my yellow fur coat, or giving hugs to friends (and sometimes strangers), and choosing to see the good in everyone I can. It takes practice, and often prayer.
When I’m vibrating in joy and love, I feel powerful.
I feel useful in these mad times, by being me.
I invite you to do the same.
Be love.
Be joy.
Be peace.
I almost paywalled this article because I’m scared of upsetting someone. I almost didn’t hit ‘publish’.
I also ran the final draft through AI to discuss my views and ask if I was being ignorant or accidentally offensive. It helped me see where I was oversimplifying a broad and diverse movement, where I sounded dismissive, and where I could sound biased or even accusatory. I hope it helped me refine my messaging and land where I intended - to unite.
Thank you for reading.
I love you. 💋
If you’re interested in being on screens a little less and you’re particularly worried about the young people in your lives living a screen-based childhood instead of a play-based one, check out my new project…
I, too, hesitate to comment on the crisis and cry inside at all the horrific acts of violence on innocents. I do not claim any depth of understanding of the political motivations that seem to be generations and generations of strife. All I see is with my heart- too many lives taken, homes that are sanctuaries destroyed, and traumatized families who will never be the same. I am a pacifist and wish only for peace on all sides.
I stand with your desire to stop the spread of violence and hatred. To denounce Hamas and Netanyahu. To protect our friends on both sides. And to hope one day there will be no sides and only peace.
Very thoughtfully and compassionately written, my brave friend ❤️