I feel incredibly off. In large part, it’s because I’ve been sick with a cold for the last nine days. Add in lack of sleep due to said cold, disruption at my apartment because of construction, Trump returning to the White House, the collective heartbreak around the LA wildfires, continued destruction of Gaza, and all the other tragedies in the world, and I want to pull a Rip Van Winkle. If I could go to sleep and wake up once everything is better, that would be great.
When life is like this, I remind myself of a few things: One, I don’t need to tackle my life’s problems (or the world’s problems) all at once. I do what I can when I can. And two, what’s called for is the next right action. The next right action varies but it’s always something small and manageable like taking a shower, calling that person, or running an errand. Little things snowball into big things and I can trust the big things take care of themselves when I focus on taking the next right action over and over again.
Lastly, to keep myself from falling into a pit of despair, it’s important to find the good and remember the miracles all around me. To that end, I’m resharing a post from August 2023. I hope it helps you as much as it does me.
After a long day of staring at my computer screen, I walked outside to my apartment complex’s terrace where something caught my eye. Leaning against the far wall beneath an overhang is a bag of detritus. It’s filled with dirt and pine needles and everything workmen scooped out of our gutters from at least eight months ago, if not longer. Do you know what was spilling out of that bag?
A well-developed nasturtium vine. There are so many things about this that are astounding. Number one, I’m on that terrace every few days watering my plants. How did I not notice it before? And number two, it hasn’t rained here in MONTHS. How did that nasturtium vine survive?!? It’s not like any of my neighbors were watering a bag of soil in an attempt to keep a plant alive. And yet, not only did the vine survive, it thrived as you can see in the picture.
The vine in question. Look at how big it is!
When I saw this plant, I literally laughed out loud because it was so unexpected and also miraculous. It reminded me that miracles are everywhere if we look for them. Miracles often have the connotation of being something big and obvious, but they can also be small and discreet, like this nasturtium vine.
I could use more miracles in my life. It’s easy for me to become disheartened by the ever-present pessimism in the news. Fires leveling towns. Floods. Famines. It’s a lot. And yet, if I look around, I also see evidence of miracles. Back in November, scientists captured footage of the black-naped pheasant-pigeon, which hadn’t been seen since 1882! In Brazil, the Golden Lion Tamarin used to be on the brink of extinction with about 200 animals in the wild, but the population has rebounded to around 4,800, according to a recent study.
Miracles happen every day with people surviving deathly car crashes, getting pregnant when they thought they were infertile, or walking again when they were told it was impossible. It’s easy to think, “Well, that wouldn’t happen to me,” but what if it could? What if you could also receive a miracle? And like me with the nasturtium plant, what if miracles are all around and we’re just not noticing them?
Given the choice between a world where we’re all doomed and one where miracles occur, I vote for the latter. It reminds me of a concept we have in my spiritual tradition called madhuvidyá, which literally means “honey knowledge.” It requires seeing everything as an expression of an infinite loving consciousness, also known as Brahma.
My spiritual teacher says, “This madhuvidyá will pervade your exterior and interior with … [ecstasy] and will permanently alleviate all your afflictions. Then the ferocious jaws of [degeneration] cannot come and devour you. The glory of one and only one benign entity will shine forth to you from one and all objects.”
That may not seem relevant but for me, practicing madhuvidyá means remembering God is here, there, and everywhere. Because everything is Brahma, everything is a manifestation of that infinite loving consciousness. In that framework, OF COURSE miracles are everywhere. How could they not be?
I dream of a world where we recognize the strange and the unlikely occurs all the time. A world where we make room for magic and mystery. A world where we understand this entire universe is composed of an infinite loving consciousness that is all-knowing and all-powerful. A world where we recognize if that’s true, if anything can happen, then miracles can too.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
It’s the time of year when people are making resolutions, plans, and goals for themselves. They’re picturing who they want to be and what they want to do this year. Someone asked me if I had any resolutions and the answer is no because my biggest lesson of 2024 was, “Stay in the moment because you don’t have a clue how things will turn out.”
Over and over again life surprised me with curveballs both good and bad. Longtime friends drifted out of my life. New ones arrived on my doorstep. High-paying clients stopped providing me with work. New ones took their place. I couldn’t have predicted any of it. So instead of making lists of what I want to accomplish, I’m embracing something poet Mary Oliver said: “Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable.” As someone prone to worry, the “unimaginable” is often synonymous with “terrible.” Things like, “An earthquake is going to swallow me up!” or, “My dear friend is going to get hit by a bus!”
What’s around the bend? We have no idea. Photo by Dirk Spijkers on Unsplash
I’m pretty sure that’s not what Mary Oliver meant when she said keep room for the unimaginable. I suspect she meant, “Allow room for wonder, possibility, and joy.” When I read her quote, I feel warmth in my heart and remember that good things can happen out of the blue like meeting new friends, getting accepted into a film festival, or finding out you’re pregnant. The unimaginable can be incredibly sweet even if it wasn’t planned.
What I’ve learned in an even deeper way over the past year is I’m not meant to know everything. Life isn’t meant to follow a script, or at least not one we have access to. My spiritual teacher says, “Human beings should always remember that living beings are only actors in the vast universal drama composed by [Cosmic Consciousness]. . . . One should remember: ‘We are only playing specific roles in a great drama. I will act properly according to the role I have been given in this drama.’ This is a person’s duty. It is meaningless for a person to think about anything more than this – about what is beyond oneʼs power.”
There are many, many things beyond my power but what I can control is how I’m showing up in the world. Am I overly focused on my plan, my story, and how I think things should go? Or am I softening into the great unknown and remembering to save room in my heart for the unimaginable? This year I’d like to do the latter. So maybe I have a New Year’s resolution after all.
I dream of a world where we remember life can be surprising and delightful. A world where we understand we are all actors in a drama we didn’t write and don’t have the script for. A world where in addition to our plans, we save room in our hearts for the joyfully unimaginable.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
As I thought about how to close this year (last post of 2024!), the blog that kept coming to mind is one I wrote almost exactly eight years ago. So no, I’m not in Malibu, nor have I flown home from a retreat just yet – that happens on Wednesday – but the message is still relevant. Enjoy.
For the past five days, I’ve lived in a bubble. Members of my yoga and meditation group gathered in Malibu where we sang, danced, meditated, and learned from each other. Gazing at the ocean surrounded by so much beauty and love, it was easy to forget the real world. And then I flew home.
Re-entry startled and unnerved me, raw and sensitive as I am operating on a few hours of sleep. On the drive home, I saw police officers tackling a man on the shoulder of the highway. It wasn’t me being chased, but my heart started pounding nonetheless. On the same ride, I saw hearts painted on the roof of a building. All of these things coexist.
It’s a new day, a new dawn, and (almost) a new year. Photo by Blake Verdoorn on Unsplash
I don’t know what this year holds. I’m guessing it will be a mix of things, just like my ride home. There will be happy things and scary things and sad things and awesome things. For some of us, there will be an unequal mix. But feeling my heart pound watching someone else’s experience, reminds me we are all in this together. We all belong to each other and we are all responsible for each other. We are not as separate as we’d like to believe. We are all connected and what affects one person ripples out.
As we start this new year, I want to quote my spiritual teacher because the message seems relevant. He said:
Just as the advent of the purple dawn is inevitable at the end of the cimmerian darkness of the interlunar night, exactly in the same way I know that a gloriously brilliant chapter will also come after the endless reproach and humiliation of the neglected humanity of today.
Those who love humanity and those who desire the welfare of living beings should be vigorously active from this very moment, after shaking off all lethargy and sloth, so that the most auspicious hour arrives at the earliest.
As we enter this new year, let us all greet the purple dawn. Let us all experience a gloriously brilliant chapter. And let us all work together to bring that “auspicious hour” sooner rather than later because we aspire to live in a beautiful new era.
I dream of a world where we remember we’re all connected. A world where we understand we all belong to each other. A world where we work together to create a beautiful and brilliant life where everyone is treated with love, kindness, and dignity. A world where we rise up to greet the new dawn awaiting us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Piggybacking on my post from last week about a new definition of perfection, I’m pondering a new definition of “good.” When I think of “good” or “being good,” it’s usually in a binary way: “This is good, this is bad.” And often “good” is from an outside source. I’m “good” if I follow the rules, if I do the things other people tell me or want me to do. But because people are contradictory (myself included), I’m also a rulebreaker. If I think a rule is stupid or doesn’t make sense, I won’t follow it. A fight I had near constantly when I lived in London was, “No, I don’t want to do it this way just because it’s always been done that way.”
The past few weeks I’ve toggled between wanting to do things my way and wanting to do things other people’s way, with my inherent goodness at stake. My therapist encouraged me to change my definition of good to encompass living in harmony with nature and all created beings. She specifically told me to look up “walking the beauty way path,” a Navajo/Diné concept.
Diné historian Wally Brown explains in a video that anyone can find their own way to walk in beauty, regardless of their background or beliefs. What the beauty way path means, fundamentally, is acknowledging the sacredness of all life and trying to be in alignment with the natural world. Instead of, “Did I follow a rule that someone else set?” it’s, “Am I treating all beings with respect? Am I striving for inner peace?” If so, I’m walking the beauty way path. There’s a prayer to go along with this concept that I’m including below:
In Beauty may I walk.
All day long may I walk.
Through the returning seasons may I walk.
On the trail marked with pollen may I walk.
With grasshoppers about my feet may I walk.
With dew about my feet may I walk.
With Beauty may I walk.
With Beauty before me, may I walk.
With Beauty behind me, may I walk.
With Beauty above me, may I walk.
With Beauty below me, may I walk.
With Beauty all around me, may I walk.
In old age wandering on a trail of Beauty,
lively, may I walk.
In old age wandering on a trail of Beauty,
living again, may I walk.
It is finished in Beauty.
It is finished in Beauty.
This prayer reminds me of a similar concept in my spiritual tradition: madhuvidyá, which literally means “honey knowledge.” Practicing madhuvidyá means seeing beyond the surface of people, places, and things to witness their true form. It’s recognizing everything is Brahma, Cosmic Consciousness, Source, the Universe, whatever name you have for it. In other words, it’s seeing beauty everywhere.
The beauty way path means recognizing I’m enveloped in love and beauty. That love and beauty are me. And if I’m treating others as if that’s true, I don’t need to worry about being “good” or “bad.” I’m doing something else – I’m walking a path, adjusting and course-correcting as need be. I may not always see the beauty in me or around me but that’s OK because as with everything, it all comes down to practice.
I dream of a world where we toss aside the binary of good/bad. A world where we focus instead on treating others with kindness and respect. A world where we see the beauty above us, below us, behind us, around us, and inside us. A world where we walk the beauty way path, whatever that means for us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Lately, I’ve been burning with shame because I don’t perceive myself doing things the “right” way. It’s … not fun and when I searched through my archives, I came across this post from January 2019. May it be a balm if you, too, are a perfectionist.
I have a confession: I make mistakes. I know, that doesn’t seem like much of a confession because everybody makes mistakes, but with the amount of shame and fear that comes up from admitting it, you’d think I stole money from little old ladies and kicked their dogs.
I notice the intensity of shame and fear shifts according to my perception of safety around making a mistake. If I make a mistake and the only person affected is me, the shame and fear levels are low. If I make a mistake at work, the shame and fear levels are high. The levels spike because my brain tells me, “I’m going to get fired! I’ll be destitute!” In my mind, the only way to stay safe at work or in my relationships is to be perfect. If I’m not perfect, something bad will happen. It’s not entirely logical but when are emotions ever logical?
A practice that helps is holding a stuffed animal that represents my inner child to my cheek like a baby and saying, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not ever going anywhere. I’ll meet all your needs. Nothing about you will keep me from meeting your needs.” And then I hold little me in the crook of my arm like a football and say, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not ever going anywhere. I’ll protect you. You can do it! Go ahead and try!” Saying those messages helped.
This dandelion is perfect because it’s complete. That will make sense in the next paragraphs. Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash
Something else that helps is remembering security doesn’t come from other people or an external source. Security comes from my actions and my alignment with an internal greater power. Money for instance doesn’t come solely from a job. It can come from an inheritance, winning the lottery, or some other wild source. If I lost my job tomorrow, I could borrow money, start a GoFundMe campaign, or any number of things.
When I’m stuck in perfectionism, my perspective shrinks and I think in black and white. However, the world is in color and much more nuanced than I remember. And also, what does perfect even mean? An early definition of perfect is, “Brought to consummation or completeness.” That’s coming from the 1913 Webster’s Writers’ Dictionary. As a one on the Enneagram, I’m all about finding holy perfection, and the practice for me is to remember that “perfect” doesn’t mean without mistakes, rather, it means completeness.
Completeness ultimately means unification with a power greater than myself, according to my spiritual tradition. I meditate and live my life in such a way that I’m moving closer and closer to a divine entity. I’m trying to unite and merge with something much subtler than I am. When I’m stuck in perfectionism, I lose sight of my journey and instead focus on a snapshot in time. I forget I’m learning and growing. I forget mistakes are an integral part of the process.
Will I still make mistakes? Yes. Will I still beat myself up about them? Probably. But more and more I’m using tools to come out of the shame spirals, to love myself, and to be in the space of acknowledging that “perfect” means not living up to a standard set by myself or someone else. Instead, perfect means complete.
I dream of a world where we remember in our quest to be perfect, really we want safety, peace of mind, and completeness. A world where we realize we are all moving toward something whole and unified. A world where we understand it’s OK to mess up because it serves us in our journey toward wholeness.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
On the heels of my post from last week about making new milestones, the phrase that keeps coming to me is, “Let go of the way you think things are supposed to be and embrace what is.” That’s a big one for me because I have a lot of “supposed tos.” Everything from I’m supposed to have fewer gray hairs to I’m supposed to be wealthier. Where those “supposed tos” came from I couldn’t say but they’re rolling around in my head.
Those “supposed tos” aren’t neutral or ephemeral either. They aren’t something I say, “Oh well!” about. They cause damage because when things don’t match the vision in my head, I feel angry/sad/resentful/disappointed. But it’s all self-inflicted! I’m the one that set myself up for those feelings! You’d think I’d learn by now not to do that to myself, but no. This whole year has been an extended lesson in letting things unfold as they will and embracing what is, not what I think is supposed to be. How do I do that? I’m still learning (obviously) but what I’ve come to is two parts. The first is surrender.
My spiritual teacher says, “Human beings and other created beings perform a multitude of actions. The ultimate action, however, is … total surrender.” Total surrender means aligning my will with my higher power’s will. Total surrender means recognizing I am an actor in this world, not the general manager of the universe. In other words, it’s saying, “OK” to whatever life is throwing at me. I don’t have to like it but I do have to accept it.
Maybe it’s already the way it’s “supposed” to be. Photo by Helio Dilolwa on Unsplash
The other part is staying present. Ram Dass says in his famous book Be Here Now:
“[I]f you set the alarm to get up at 3:47 this morning and when the alarm rings and you get up and turn it off and say: ‘What time is it?’ You’d say, ‘Now. Now. Where am I? Here! Here!’ then go back to sleep and get up at 9:00 tomorrow. Where am I?? Here! What time is it? Now! Try 4:32 three weeks from next Thursday. By God it is – there’s no getting away from it – that’s the way it is. That’s the eternal present. You finally figure out that it’s only the clock that’s going around … it’s doing its thing but you – you’re sitting here, right now, always.”
Another quote from Ram Dass: “What are you doing? Planning for the future? Well it’s all right now but later? Forget it baby, that’s later. Now is now. Are you going to be here or not? It’s as simple as that!” Being here, now means not only enjoying the present moment but accepting it’s exactly how it’s supposed to be, gray hairs and all.
I dream of a world where we let go of our “supposed tos” and embrace what is. A world where we remember expectations only set us up for disappointment and resentment. A world where we understand as much as we have dreams for the future, we are actors, not general managers, and that means it’s better for us to let things play out how they’re meant to not how we think they’re supposed to.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
If you’re reading this on December 1, today is my 40th birthday. I’ve had numerous feelings about this birthday. I’ve cried many tears about it because I’m not at all where I thought I’d be at this age. I don’t have anything society told me I “should” have at 40 as a cis-het woman: I’m single, childless, and don’t own a home.
When I mentioned this to my sister, she said, “Yeah but those are normie milestones,” which put things into perspective because when have I ever been normal? (The answer: never.) I may not have the things society told me I “should” have, but there are other milestones that I’m proud of. I’ve been in recovery from an eating disorder for 15 years. It’s been so long that in the novel I’m writing about a bulimic, I completely forgot the main character would say mean things about her body on a daily basis. I’m so removed from that version of myself it literally didn’t occur to me that my character’s inner dialogue would be fatphobic and berating.
Speaking of writing, I’ve written three books – a memoir, a romantic comedy, and the current heroine’s journey novel about belonging and recovery from an eating disorder. When I wrote the romantic comedy, I said over and over again, “I don’t think I can write 50,000 words” because I never had. And I used to joke around that I couldn’t write fiction to save my life. Here I am with two novels under my belt.
Another milestone: My business, rebekahmoan.com, isn’t a part of the statistic about most businesses failing within the first five years. It’s been five years and it’s still going strong. It doesn’t look the way it did when I started but that to me shows I’m adaptable. I can change. Related, it’s harder to measure but I have done so much healing work. I’ve learned to soothe my inner child, be my own secure loving parent, feel my feelings, set boundaries, and communicate my needs. Years ago, I was an anxious, people-pleasing, scaredy cat terrified of standing up for herself. Through some incredibly difficult circumstances, that all changed.
Me with my niece, Mira. I’m grateful for her and all the people in my life.
I’ve worked hard for this version of myself and I’m proud of that. Of me. I’ve been in the trenches of my body, mind, and soul learning how to be the best version of myself and I can honestly say I’m healthier than I was at 30 in every possible way. (In large part that’s because my sleep disorder finally got sorted in 2018.) That’s amazing and worth celebrating.
This post is about me but I’m sharing it with you because I bet you also have milestones that society wouldn’t necessarily notice or celebrate like keeping a plant alive for three years, meditating every day for a month, or finally having friends when for so long you were alone.
Celebrating these unconventional milestones reminds me we are all unique incarnations of the Divine Beloved. The central tenet of my spiritual practice is the universe is coming to know itself through me and you. We are the human expression of divinity. We are not human beings having a spiritual experience, but spiritual beings having a human experience, to quote Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.
Other people who speak to this idea eloquently are Brian Swimme and Mary Evelyn Pope who write in their book Journey of the Universe, “[J]ust as the Milky Way is the universe in the form of a galaxy, and an orchid is the universe in the form of a flower, we are the universe in the form of a human. And every time we are drawn to look up into the night sky and reflect on the awesome beauty of the universe, we are actually the universe reflecting on itself. And this changes everything.”
We are the universe reflecting on itself and just as the Cosmos is vast, so are the experiences of human life. We’re not all meant to follow a neat and orderly direction or accomplish all the same things. We’re meant to be wholly ourselves and that means making new milestones.
I dream of a world where we’re proud of ourselves for the things we’ve accomplished even if no one else is. A world where we understand we’re all unique expressions of the Divine Beloved and that means we all express ourselves in different ways. A world where instead of comparing ourselves to other people, we make our own milestones.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
A friend sent me a podcast he created solely using AI and it freaked me out. By feeding a discourse into a large language model, it spit out a realistic conversation between two “people.” I didn’t love the podcast because the speakers said “like” too much, but still. AI created something much easier and swifter than me, a human. From there I spiraled into “AI will replace me” territory because I’m not a plumber – I’m a writer.
I tried to soothe myself by remembering AI can only regurgitate what’s already been generated and I’m creating something new. For instance, the novel I’m writing centers on a woman with an eating disorder who finds recovery from it. As astounding as it may seem, that story doesn’t exist for adults! So there’s still a role for me. But/and the whole thing has me pondering what are my gifts? And beyond that, what does it mean to be human?
The thing I do as a human that AI cannot is commune with subtle energies. I receive messages from the Divine Beloved and communicate them to humanity. To that end, I’m sharing a letter from my higher power to me because I think you will also find it beneficial.
This picture reminded me of the expression, “Worth your weight in gold.” Photo by Kent Pilcher on Unsplash
Dear one,
You are irreplaceable. Who you are and what you contribute to the world is so much more than your paid work. It’s your interactions with others, it’s your life experience, it’s your wisdom, your kindness, and your love. You are a part of the web of life and bigger than what you generate or what AI can generate on your behalf.
You worry about AI replacing you but you don’t realize that’s impossible. A machine cannot fulfill all the roles and functions that you do. You are love itself and that’s more precious than anything currently in existence. You touch minds and hearts wherever you go and that’s what matters, not whether you can create a podcast in three minutes.
Society is entering a new phase of development where everyone is learning what it means to be human so you will become even more valuable. You do not treat people like machines. You don’t look at them for what they can produce or how they can help you. You look at people as expressions of divinity. You remind them they’re special and sacred and that cannot be quantified, nor can it be replaced.
I know you’re scared you’ll be out of a job soon but you will never be out of a job even if your role changes because your job is to know Me, to love Me, to move toward Me, the ever-loving entity that pervades this universe. When you take shelter under me, you are always shielded from every storm. So do not worry. You are held, you are loved, you are guided every moment of every day. Rest in that, trust in that, and know all is well.
I dream of a world where we recognize we are so much more than what we produce. A world where we understand we are irreplaceable as unique expressions of an infinite loving consciousness. A world where we understand we are interwoven in the web of life and that’s far more complicated than it may seem. A world where we remember we’re irreplaceable.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This has never happened to me before but last week a chestnut-backed chickadee pair flew to my living room window. One of them chirped at the sill as if it was talking to me directly. I exclaimed in delight at this tiny bird watching me as I watched it. The encounter reminded me of the power of joy. To that end, I want to reshare a post from a solid 10 years ago.
A few weeks ago, I listened to a radio show by Radleigh Valentine and he said on average people laugh 15 times a day. Fifteen times! And then he asked, “Do you remember if you laughed at all yesterday?” He pointed out it’s easy to remember the unpleasant things – the times we’re sad or scared or anxious – but the joyful times, the laughing times, are easier to forget. He encouraged his listeners to take note of when they laugh, to see if it adds up to 15 times. And then he said something really interesting: Plan for joy.
When he said, “Plan for joy” I wanted to pause his radio show so I could take that in. It hasn’t occurred to me lately I would need to plan for joy – I assumed joy would sort of happen if I bumbled around in my life. But you know? That’s not true – I mean, sure, I stumble across joy every once and a while like an adventurer coming into a clearing – but it wasn’t necessarily something I planned for. I assumed I’d experience joy once my life was peachy keen – when my financial situation improved, the love of my life came along, etc. I think you know this already, but joy is the quiet moments, the small events that we may not remember long after they happen.
More of this. Photo by Mieke Campbell on Unsplash
Joy is having a friend call you up spontaneously asking to hang out. It’s laughing along with a television show. It’s finding out the book you put on hold at the library has become available.
Joy can be spontaneous but it can also be planned and that’s what struck me the most about Radleigh’s show. In an interesting juxtaposition, I had a powerful therapy session this week. I went from fearful, anxious, and insecure in one moment to laughing, goofy, and joyful in the next.
My therapist asked me to recall a moment I felt joyful, loved, and appreciated and then embody it. She asked if a movement or sound accompanied joy. It did – joy for me looks like strutting with my toes flexed and my heels out singing along to, “Let’s go fly a kite” or Life of Brian’s “Always look on the bright side of life.”
What amazes me is no matter how icky I feel, strutting around my cottage and singing “Always look on the bright side of life,” automatically puts a smile on my face and lifts my mood. I can be melodramatic and negative but there is also joy to be found at those times. Joy is not winning the lottery or buying a new car, it’s humming to myself while I walk, it’s remembering all the times I laughed yesterday, it’s making an active effort to improve my mood because I am continuing to plan for joy.
I dream of a world where we remember we can access joy at any time. A world where we all have that one song that brings a smile to our faces. A world where we remember the number of times we laughed yesterday. A world where we not only experience joy, we continue planning for it.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
My social media feed is serving up some pretty horrific things lately. There seem to be endless ways that people are cruel to one another and I know many people are worried that the recent U.S. elections will embolden more of that kind of behavior. But people aren’t only cruel, they’re also kind.
What follows are two examples that remind me people do still care about one another. I’m organizing a retreat for my spiritual community and the retreat site doesn’t have strong wifi throughout, which is a problem because our retreat will be a hybrid one. We need to borrow a wifi booster/extender and instead of buying a new one to use for literally five days, I emailed my tech friends. Wouldn’t you know it – one of them has an extender I can borrow.
You might be saying to yourself, “So? That’s such a small thing. And you asked a friend for help. That’s what friends do.” True. But also this weekend a Substack I subscribe to opened up the comments for people to “take one/leave one,” meaning ask for something they need like a beta reader and offer something like critiquing a query letter. There, too, people are supporting one another, not friends – strangers.
We are still kind to one another. Photo by Dominik Lange on Unsplash
These small things give me hope because this is always how the world works. We lean on one another for support and care. Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés wrote:
“Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach. Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor suffering world, will help immensely. It is not given to us to know which acts or by whom, will cause the critical mass to tip toward an enduring good.
“What is needed for dramatic change is an accumulation of acts, adding, adding to, adding more, continuing. We know that it does not take everyone on Earth to bring justice and peace, but only a small, determined group who will not give up during the first, second, or hundredth gale.”
Her sentiment echoes the famous Margaret Mead quote: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.” And don’t doubt that you are that citizen. The small things we do every day – lending wifi routers, offering to babysit someone’s children, bringing someone soup – these are the things that remind our brains and bodies that we aren’t alone. That people are still good and kind and helpful. That matters.
In times when it seems like people are hellbent on tearing one another down mentally, emotionally, and physically, these small acts of kindness are huge. They let us know despite the barrage of negativity, we still have each other. And that makes all the difference.
I dream of a world where we continue to show up for one another. A world where we give and receive what we can. A world where we focus on our circles of influence and help those around us. A world where we don’t let negativity drag us down because we remember that we still have each other.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.