Bearing one another’s burdens.

Today is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. Also Inauguration Day. When we picture King, we picture him as heroic, confident, strong. And these are likely the pictures you may see today.

And, of course, he was these things. Championing civil rights and railing against injustice, able to see inequity in the systems around him and dream of a better way. He was an advocate of love over hate and peaceful protest.

And yet, his life was not a peaceful one. He was killed for the beliefs he professed. And much of the progress he made was met with violence and hate.

Progress is not a straight line, and hate is ever-present. And hate can be powerful and beguiling and intimidating. And hate can creep into the consciousness of a group, or even a nation.

And yet, I will stand with King for love over hate, all these years later, and do what I can to continue his fight for justice and peace.

Because, even in the midst of hateful people and those who seek to divide, justice and truth are on the right side of history.

What kind of difference will you make?

As I write this, Los Angeles is burning. Many have lost their homes, their lives, their livelihoods. Many are displaced. All of us who live here are afraid, as near 100 mile per hour winds buffet our homes and render firefighting difficult if not impossible. All of us are thinking about the possibility of losing the security of home. We are one turn in the wind away from being displaced. We didn’t do anything to deserve this any more than any victim of natural disaster.

And perhaps, like me, we look around at what is happening and see people making choices.

Heroic firefighters and first responders rushing into danger.

Churches opening their doors to accept the displaced.

Grassroots attempts to collect funds and supplies for those hardest hit.

People praying and reaching out to comfort and shelter their neighbors.

And yet, we can’t help but see the others.

A suspected arsonist arrested.

A politician lying to cast blame on his enemies, making light of human suffering.

People mocking those who have lost their homes if they are rich or famous as if the wealthy can’t suffer.

People making things better and people making things worse. Isn’t that always the way? People who help and people who hurt.

And on behalf of people in the middle of this crisis, bags packed, waiting to know if they will have to flee their homes and lose everything, trying to decide what to bring or maybe not even having time for that, I will say how the actions of people out of harm’s way makes a tremendous impact. Calls and emails from people checking in and expressing concern, offers of help and sanctuary, heroic actions on behalf of others, fills us with hope and community in the midst of the darkness. Thank you to those people.

This time it is we who live in Los Angeles suffering, but tomorrow it could be you. No one is immune from the possibility of loss.

The question in all of it always is, what kind of difference will you decide to make with your life, for most assuredly what you do will make a difference. So which is it?

Help or hurt?

For as long as we can.

One of my personal heroes, Jimmy Carter, 100 years old, has passed away, and the world is a bit darker without his light. He has been such a wonderful example of walking the walk. He said:

“My faith demands – this is not optional – my faith demands that I do whatever I can, wherever I can, whenever I can, for as long as I can with whatever I have to try to make a difference.”

What a wonderful way to look at our possible impact. Using what we have, not waiting until we have more or better resources or to be older and wiser, or wishing we were younger and stronger. Right now, with what’s available. 

And wherever we find ourselves, adopting a bloom where you’re planted attitude. Even if we are in our own harsh spot. Considering what can we do here. 

And always looking for opportunities to do good. Not necessarily solving the world’s problems, but doing your own little bit of good. Right here, right now. 

Let’s go. 

Thank you, President Carter, for this reminder. You will be missed.

Help others, help ourselves.

Sometimes we help; sometimes we need help. Sometimes we teach; sometimes we are the student.  Sometimes we follow; sometimes we lead. But the truly profound thing in each of these examples is that we are always on both sides of the continuum at the same time. The teacher learns as much from her students as she teaches. The leader who best leads remembers what it is like to be led. And when we help others, it makes us more empathic, more generous, more loving and expands our own humanity. We realize we are one. We are a community that best thrives when all work to help each other.

Patience, Grasshopper.

What is worth fighting for? Sometimes a battle is won in a courageous show of strength and derring do. A fireman runs into a burning building to save a child. A passerby stops to help victims of an accident. A pilot steers a damaged plane to safety.

But sometimes the battle requires showing up time after time with love, kindness, and patience. Not giving up on someone. Having faith that love will win. Believing that relationships can be salvaged.

That takes courage, too.

Obstacles or gateways?

Benjamin Franklin’s parents could afford to educate him only until he was 10; he took it from there. Abraham Lincoln lost far more political battles than he won.  Oprah Winfrey lost a child when she was 14. Many writers, like J.K. Rowling and Stephen King, were rejected dozens of times before they ever sold a story.

History is full of people who initially failed but ultimately succeeded, perhaps at something wildly different than what they first started. There is value in an obstacle if you can see it with the right eyes– eyes that look for what is to be learned from the struggle, eyes that value determination and resilience, eyes that look for opportunity.

Which of your obstacles are really gateways to something better?

Praying with the news.

How do we read the news and not get overwhelmed or angry, disconnected or depressed? How do we keep showing up with compassion and grace in a world where there is so much hate? How do we keep ourselves on the right path through the midst of it all? How do we continue to show up from a place of compassion, forgiveness, and grace? how do we keep our hearts from growing hard?

In this thoughtful letter, Rabbi Yael Levy shares his insights on how to pray with the news:

The 17th of the Hebrew month Tammuz initiates a three-week period of mourning that leads to Tisha b’Av, which is the day that marks the destruction of the Temples in Jerusalem in 586 BCE and 70 CE.

Tradition teaches that the Temple was destroyed because hatred became the operating principle in the community. The scorn, contempt and disdain that characterized daily interactions caused the Divine Presence to flee and leave the Temple vulnerable to attack.

These next three weeks ask us to reflect on the hatred that we allow to take root in our hearts. The wisdom of the tradition acknowledges that hatred can sometimes feel energizing and “so right,” but allowing it to fill our bodies and guide our actions leads to destruction.

Many years ago I was taught the practice of praying with the news. I have shared it over the years and always find myself returning to it during this season.

In this practice, each time we read or listen to a news report that enrages us, we turn our attention to those harmed by what is happening and pray for their healing and well-being. Doing so encourages us to acknowledge feelings of anger, grief and despair, and at the same time it turns our attention toward connection and compassion. Praying with the news can help us learn to bear witness to devastation and mayhem, while keeping our hearts soft, our minds calm, and our actions clear.

I am struggling mightily with this practice these days in the wake of continued violence and oppression in this country and throughout the world. Hatred can sometimes feel like such a welcome harbor. Not only does it feel so right, it can also act as a shield, creating the illusion that I don’t have to acknowledge the grief and heartbreak I am experiencing.

I need practices to help quiet the rage and fear, to loosen the constriction of hatred and to help me be with overwhelming grief. I need practices to help me return to compassion, love, joy and possibility. I find praying with the news both painful and helpful. It keeps me connected, allows sorrow, and grounds me in care and love.Weekly reading from the Awakin.org newsletter.

A persistent hope.

What is hope, really, but a persistent insistence that things can be better, that there is more to it, that the final answers are yet to be revealed. Emily Dickinson describes hope as 

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –

That perches in the soul –

And sings the tune without the words –

And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –

And sore must be the storm –

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –

And on the strangest Sea –

Yet – never – in Extremity,

It asked a crumb – of me.”

And this feels right. Hope sits there perched, singing, warming our souls and keeping us fed. A wordless song because we may not even have the ability to put our emotions into words or know what it is we hope for. And this is a positive, persistent hope, but somewhat passive, waiting. 

And yet, we know, too, that hope gets its fingernails dirty because while hope sits on the periphery expectant, it can also be in the fray fighting for a better world. That kind of hope is captured by Matthew @CrowsFault:

“People speak of hope as if it is this delicate ephemeral thing made of whispers and spider’s webs. It’s not. Hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of cobblestones in her hair, and just spat out a tooth as she rises for another go.”

And this, too, seems true. Hope keeps our souls fed but also prompts our entering the arena, helping us to do the hard work to make a better world for all.

Love in this place.

It’s okay to be heartbroken for more than one group of people at the same time. When it comes to showing compassion, we don’t have to pick sides. Sometimes, often really, maybe even always, there is hurt and anguish everywhere, and we can mourn the lot of it. 

Beware people who tell you not to be concerned for this group or that group and the hurt they feel. 

Beware those who try to dehumanize others. 

Beware those who lump you in as the ‘enemy’ for working to assure people are treated humanely.

Beware people who draw lines between us and them. 

Beware those who try to limit you to a label or single identity. 

Our hearts are big enough to embrace it all. What we must save is love.