In the past few weeks many people have mentioned turning away from current events. They are powering off the news and social media. Because it's all too much.
From Syria to Standing Rock; elections to the environment – it's been too much to bear.
The fear.
The anger.
Anxiety and grief.
We feel powerless to change the future and we lie awake with worry at what the next chapter will hold.
And in self-preservation, we turn away.
As someone who hasn't been able to listen to the news for over 12 years, I understand the sentiment. Fear for the future and deep concerns for what's happening around the world is enough to shut down even the fiercest among us.
And we worry: what sort of world will we leave to our children?
And we turn away again.
What sort of world will we leave our children?
It's a question I sit with often.
But there, perhaps, is the sliver lining our hearts need most of all. Because the answer is beautifully simple.
We will leave them the world that we choose to create.
A world built of compassion and caring, and the courageous choice to not look away. If, that is, we can find it inside of us to lend our hands.
With that in mind this weekend, I transformed my feelings of fear and sadness through small simple acts.
I donated money. I wrote a letter. And I made medicine to send to Standing Rock.
And as we mixed and stirred the herbs into the simmering pots, I realized what an achingly beautiful metaphor it was.
Because we all have medicine to give. If only we have the courage to turn back toward what we fear and set to work.
Your challenge then, is to find the medicine that you have to offer.
And when everything feels desperate, out of balance, or out of control – when you have to look away to keep your heart from breaking – I ask you to make your medicine.
Literally or figuratively, find the medicine you can offer to the world and then give it away.
Because medicine of all sorts can heal us, even if it only passes through our hands.
Your medicine might be buying mittens to donate to the homeless shelter. Your medicine may be the eye contact, dignity, and a hot meal you serve at a a local soup kitchen. Your medicine might be volunteering at a nearby food pantry or defending those who are persecuted. Your medicine may be kindness to those who need it most.
What medicine do you have to offer the world?
Whatever it is, it's needed right now.
It's time.
It's time to make medicine and give it away.
You write so beautifully. Thanks for this.
Yes, we must all keep striving. Thank you for keeping on with such heart.
yes. this. always.
This feels like medicine and a confirmation of what I keep hearing over and over in my heart.
Step up and bring it.
I had a dream on the night of the election. I was watching the election with a bunch of people in a strange house. I was huddled with one other person watching TV on one of those big box tv sets from the 70s. The house was missing one of its walls and when I looked to my right, I saw a ton of owls descending from the sky. I yelled, “Owls!!” and everyone ran outside. There were hundreds of owls flying in and descending over this field which looked out on a huge and gorgeous mountain vista. They were snow owls and just blanketed the landscape.
When I woke up I saw the flood of owls as the wisdom for/of the collective rushing in. At that point I didn’t know what had happened in the real election, but I told myself that no matter what had happened, I needed to remember the wisdom of so many owls. In the weeks since, I have also focused on how they teach us how to navigate in the dark.
Thanks for being an owl for me today.
Something to think about here, thanks for highlighting this.