On a day like this…

It’s hard to know what to write on a day like this when the news is full of shocking edicts and social media aflame with righteous anger and revolt. The threat to the precarious balance of global diplomacy is increasing day by day, with populist movements running roughshod over common sense and basic human decency. It is heartbreaking. It is infuriating. And it must be resisted. 

But what does that look like? For you? For me? For us? 

As a woman from a small city in a small country, it’s hard to feel like anything I can do can really make a difference. I feel my efforts being swallowed up by my own sense of impotency. I use my vote in every election, in every referendum. I raise my voice to speak out about inequality where I find it. I support others on a daily basis to practice deep self-reflection that leads to clear-seeing, self-acceptance, true empathy. I raise my children to live with compassion, fairness, and generosity as their guides.

But the problems that the citizens of the world are facing now seem so large and so impossibly insurmountable by the individual, it’s hard to feel like any action taken on my part will tip the balance towards a free and fair society where each person is afforded their dignity regardless of gender, race, age, income, nationality, religious belief, sexual orientation etc. 

However, as I write that I have to ask myself if that’s actually true. Or is it a story I am telling myself so that I can, in some small way, justify inaction, complacency, silence… which is ultimately to be complicit with the actions of those I genuinely find abhorrent. 

Because I do have a voice, I have connections to many, I have a big heart that knows how to love – fiercely, furiously, fully. And so with all of that, I am asking myself, what can I do? What action can I take? What difference can I make? 

Then, I see that perhaps it’s not even about assessing what difference any of us can make. For in truth, we will never know the extent of our own legacies – our influence rippling out across connections that we remain entirely unaware of. So, in that case, the invitation then is to live day after day making choices that are rooted in love and grounded in compassionate action. The invitation is to live a life crafted by decisions to speak up on behalf of those whose voices are not heard and whose rights are not respected. The invitation is to show up and speak out against those who place profit over people, who invest in walls instead of bridges, and who choose personal power over fair policy-making.

So yes… what to write on a day like this? An invitation. To you, to me, to us. Because, my loves, it’s time to step up, to lean in, to speak out. The alternative is complicity. And I, for one, refuse to be complicit with the words and actions that breed hatred, divisiveness and greed.