As many of you know, I'm writing from the place that was my war zone in the 1970s, where we had urban guerrilla warfare for 6 years. I revisit here as part of my work with my therapist for healing--literally on my healing journey.

Coincidentally, a former guerrilla leader, a really bad guy back then (and not all were, it depended wildly on the individual) just came back too, like I did. He had been out of the country in exile in Europe where he hid for 40 years. It's hard to see him in the headlines of the newspapers. His combat headquarters was literally 2 minutes from my house back in the war. So he brought lots of combat to my residential neighborhood, especially from 1970-1972.

Now he's giving interviews on TV and to newspapers like he's a hero. What a jerk. Even his own comrades in arms who fought with him on his side back in the war days don't like him any more. We've all tried to get past those days of combat, and here he comes wanting to gloat about the fighting and bloodshed. His old war buddies, his own comrades in arms from back then, have given interviews on TV saying how out of step he is with the rest of us who are trying to heal from the war. He is disturbing to listen to, stuck as he is still in the past. But it's been worth it just to hear his comrades refute him in the press. They talk about their healing journeys since those days, journeys like my own, like my healing journey to be here now.

I don't name my country because for me the point is not the name of the country itself. It's the breakdown in sanity and order when your country goes to civil war, family against family. Any war is hard, but civil war is especially hard. I knew people personally on both sides who died, people from my school, my neighborhood.

At one time the USA had a civil war, too. I live near Washington, DC back in the US, and I pass famous civil war battlefields there all the time. England had its civil wars in the past, too, as did many countries. So I know other countries have this history, too, and have had to heal from it.

Now I am literally walking the battlefields I survived during 6 years of combat. I was walking along today and a motorbike backfired. I just about jumped out of my skin. It sounded just like gunfire! It felt like it to me, too, being on the same street where I actually dodged real gunfire all those years. In a split second I was back in survival mode. Then I looked around at everybody just going about their business, and I had a little chuckle at myself.

It's peaceful here now, and walking through this peace is doing me good. It's been a sacrifice to take this healing journey, quite frankly. In effort and treasure both. Still, I'm glad I took up my therapist's challenge to try coming back. It is balancing out my images of these streets of fire back then with these images of daily hustle and bustle in peace time with kids playing safely. He was right. Eventually, I needed that. I wondered if I was ready, and it looks like I am. It's working for me. Not a simple update, but a happy update nonetheless.