As each violent act in Israel and Palestine propels an even more violent act from Palestine or Israel, it is easy to take sides or see one people as "good," the other "bad."

But not everyone in these two embattled, embittered countries wants to fight. On July 10 two students at Hunter College in New York, Dania Darwish, originally from Syria, and Abraham Gutman, an Israeli, started a Facebook page, #JewsandArabsRefuseToBeEnemies. Now, less than a month later the page has more than 58,000 "likes." Families, friends, colleagues, and loving couples are posting photos, many of which include handwritten signs that identify either the ethnic or religious backgrounds of those pictured.

Meanwhile from July 23 to 29, about 50 people from Tamera, an intentional, sustainable community in southern Portugal, set up a Vision Camp in the West Bank. Led by Sabine Lichtenfels, a founder of Tamera, who has led many pilgrimages to the Holy Land, the camp was dedicated to supporting a healthy future for people on all sides of the conflict. The statement they issued includes these words:  

We are gathering here under very simple conditions, creating community life, sharing from our hearts, in silence and in tears, in the midst of shootings and bombings.... Israelis will never feel safe, and Palestinians will never be free, unless they begin building mutual relationships of trust and respect. And this land will never be holy while we keep watering it with blood. A true nonviolent revolution starts within ourselves.

Please share these stories on your social media outlets and with your friends. If people themselves refuse to hate those whom their governments tell them to hate, there is a chance that even the governments will wake up to the sense and the promise of peace.

In mid-July I co-guided a School of Lost Borders vision fast for youth in the Inyo Mountains with Will Scott, our assistant Marie de Beauvoir, and ten young people ranging in age from 14 to 26. The intention of the entire ceremony was to serve as a rite of passage from childhood to adulthood, and each individual formed his or her own intention as well.

After their three-day fast and solo, we gathered in a large circle among the pinyon and juniper trees, and the young people told their stories. Each was beautiful, brave, and moving. One in particular struck me as an example of great courage.

Layla was a recent college graduate. A slim, pretty young woman who loves the natural world and had recently worked at a rehab center for wounded birds of prey, she came on the quest because she wanted to resolve a painful incident. Two years earlier she had been the victim of a sexual assault and ever since she had been wracked with shame and guilt that she was somehow complicit. Only two months earlier she had told her story for the first time in a workshop and had felt a great release. Still, she knew there was more work to be done.

The solo spot she chose was on a ridge with a view of the rolling, sparsely vegetated hillsides stretching into the distance. She paid attention to her dreams, created a symbolic Death Lodge, where she spent time saying good-bye to some of the people in her life, and watched the skies and weathers move over the land.

She knew that she still had to confront the man who had assaulted her. Reluctance to revisit a frightening and painful incident tangled with self-doubt: If I can fight him off now, she thought, that means I could have fought him then, so why didn't I? She kept postponing the encounter. Finally just as the sun was beginning to set, it was time.

At first logistics kept her stuck: was she strong enough? How could she attack him from the position he'd manipulated her into? Soon, she gained momentum, however, and elbowed him hard in the head and nose. Layla wrote later: "I threw him over my shoulder and pummeled his face, stepped on him, kicked him, kneed him, hit him, rolled him over and down the hill. Later I was at the top of the hill and he came back, just approaching me, so I stood up and drew my flaming swords and slashed him into 50 pieces, chucking his parts down the mountainside."

It is impossible, of course, to change the past. But it is absolutely possible to change our relationship with the past. With her courage to revisit a painful experience, face her feelings of guilt and shame, and empower herself through a vividly imagined and poignant ceremony, Layla took back her power and transformed her life.