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What Al-Anon Taught Me About Vaccination

By Rebekah / December 26, 2021

As I continue to grapple with the death of a friend and beloved member of my community who died from COVID-19 due to not being vaccinated, I keep thinking about a twist on an Al-Anon phrase: “Give people the dignity of their choices.” As you know, there is nothing more controversial, more hot-button, more likely to cause a debate than COVID-19 vaccines in the age of this pandemic. I’m not telling you anything new. You’ve likely witnessed this debate or had it yourself.

Each camp – the vaccinated and unvaccinated – staunchly argues their case. Each camp cites information, tries to convince the other, justifies their own choices, but I’m not sure how much good it’s doing. My friend that died knew the facts. He knew more unvaccinated people than vaccinated are dying of COVID, are filling hospital beds, and yet he chose to “trust his immune system.” He decided to gamble that he would be fine if he contracted COVID-19. He wasn’t fine and yeah, I’ve been angry about it, sad about it, but ultimately, it wasn’t my choice. It wasn’t my decision to make. Me? I chose differently. But here’s what Al-Anon taught me: There comes a point where we all have to recognize we can’t force people to do something they don’t want to do.

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Let people make their choices. Photo by Javier Allegue Barros on Unsplash

In the world of Al-Anon, which is a program for friends and family members of addicts, they learn there is no secret formula that convinces an addict to stop using. They know it doesn’t matter how many tears, how much literature, how much pleading they do with the addict in their life, they can’t force the addict to quit. They are not in control of the addict’s choices. Granted, they don’t have to stand by and watch the addict head to an early grave either, but there’s a point where they understand what it means to be powerless.

Powerlessness over other people seems like something we’re all learning right now. Is forcing people to get vaccinated helping? Or instead, are healthcare workers quitting over vaccine mandates? What exactly are vaccine mandates accomplishing? In the U.S., it’s helping a little, but it’s also sparking lawsuits and public outcry. It seems to me some people feel oppressed because their choices are not being honored.

Do I wish everyone who is able to get vaccinated does so? Of course I do. But at this point I’m recognizing not everyone will because they haven’t. And instead of shouting at them until I’m blue in the face, I’m taking a page from Al-Anon and letting people have the dignity of their choices. It’s hard, it’s heartbreaking, it feels like graduate-level spiritual work, but these are the times we’re living in.

Ultimately, I want to feel peace and if I’m hopped up on righteous indignation, there ain’t no peace to be had. What brings me peace is recognizing I’m doing what I need to do to protect myself – I’ve been boosted, I’m wearing a mask, social distancing, etc. – but the only person I can take care of is me. Instead of saying, “I’m right and you’re wrong,” how can we create space for everyone to have the dignity of their choices? Because truly, that’s the reality of the world we live in.

As for me, when I allow my friend the dignity of his choice, instead of being filled with resentment over his death, I think of him fondly. I remember his bright smile, the love he had for his son, and his willingness to pitch in wherever he could. And that’s what I’d much rather focus on.

I dream of a world where we support people in making informed choices while also recognizing we aren’t in control of those choices. A world where we make space for disagreement. A world where we let people have the dignity of their choices even if we wouldn’t make them ourselves.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

Emotional Contagion

By Rebekah / December 19, 2021

If you’re anything like me, you’ve heard something to the effect of, “It only takes one person to feel grounded and safe in a crowd to change the atmosphere for everyone else.” It’s a nice sentiment, but is it just a bunch of hokey-pokey b.s.? Can little ole me really have that kind of effect on other people? It turns out, yes.

Emotions are contagious just like colds and scientists think this “emotional contagion” is due to the mirror neuron system. Essentially, when you do something yourself and watch someone else do that exact activity, the same neurons are firing, aka, mirror neurons. Pretty cool right? So how then do emotions catch on? According to this article in Healthline, it happens in three stages: mimicry, feedback, and experience.

Mimicry is just what it sounds like: mimicking someone else. If I smile at you, chances are you’re going to smile back at me. However, typically your reaction is not conscious. It’s happening automatically. But that mimicry has a ripple effect and creates feedback in the brain and body. For instance, if you’re mimicking my smile, even if originally you felt cranky, just by smiling, you’ll feel happier. And that feedback will create a response in you so that you actually are feeling happier. That’s the experiential part of emotional contagion. You mimicked me, created feedback for yourself, and thus “caught” the emotion I’m expressing.

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I don’t know about you, but looking at these folks makes me smile! Photo by Siviwe Kapteyn on Unsplash

What fascinates me about this process is not only the one-on-one contagion, but also the group contagion. We see this with mob mentality, or herd mentality when people are influenced by their peers to adopt a behavior or viewpoint on a largely emotional basis. What we’re all creating is a collective mind. We’re syncing our minds up and this happens whether we want it to or not.

The question then becomes, what to do about that? My spiritual teacher says, “The collectivity is yours. The collectivity is not outside you – your future is inseparably connected with the collective fortune. You must take the entire collectivity with you and move toward the sweetest radiance of the new crimson dawn, beyond the veil of the darkest night.”

Later on, he says, “Now, changes will have to be effected in the mental flow of this collective mind; you will have to create a new wave of thought in it. Because of the manner of human thinking thus far, the pace of human progress has been painfully slow. If it is given a new direction, the speed of progress will be greatly accelerated.”

Frankly, I’m all for moving toward the sweetest radiance of the new crimson dawn and accelerating the speed of human progress. And that means how I feel, how I act, matters. How you interact with other people has an impact. It transmits something and together we create something that wouldn’t have been there before. We are each contributing to a collective mind. But what are we contributing? Is it something that will move humanity forward to a state of equity, justice, love, and respect? Or is it something that creates more discrimination, inequality, and division? Knowing about emotional contagion, what will you choose?

I dream of a world where we recognize how we feel, what we express really does matter. A world where we allow ourselves to be authentic, but also understand we affect and even infect those around us. A world where we are conscious about what we’re contributing to the collective mind because we understand emotional contagion is real.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

Bumping Elbows

By Rebekah / October 24, 2021

I feel vulnerable right now, sensitive. In part it’s because rain has come to the Bay Area (along with a flood warning) and I have seasonal affective disorder. However, I feel vulnerable and sensitive right now also because I’m in a weird liminal space. An in-between space. The pandemic is raging on, but many people have returned to life as normal, or something like it. They’re going out to eat, they’re hanging out with friends indoors, they’re going to parties, they’ve returned to the office, or will soon. Life looks pretty much like it did before the pandemic except for wearing a mask certain places and perhaps flashing a vaccination card here and there.

For me though, there’s not really a normal to return to, at least when it comes to certain things, like community. The community I had pre-pandemic has been decimated. Not because anyone died, but rather because so many people have moved away. Not everyone — I still have local friends — but enough to be noticeable. The things I did in community — meditating as a group or attending a 12-step meeting — take place solely online now. And it’s possible they’ll stay that way. I can’t say for sure, but it doesn’t really matter because in the moment, what I want doesn’t exist: in-person community.

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Slot me in there! Photo by Vonecia Carswell on Unsplash

I have lots of online community (Zoom calls out the wahzoo), but the kind where I can bump elbows with someone? Where I can see more than their head and shoulders? Nope. As the world opens up and people are getting together again, they’re reaching out to friends and community members. I’m noticing that’s not an option for me. I have numerous individual friends, but they aren’t friends with each other. They don’t know or hang out with each other and have no reason to unless I corral them together. Frankly, I miss that — people united around a common interest and developing comradery because of it.

My spiritual teacher says, “You should have more and more contact with people, contact with whom will be helpful in your development.” And elsewhere he says, “Even a good person or a sádhaka [spiritual aspirant] needs proper maintenance, for in a world of constant change, care must be taken that the change be always toward the better or the higher. Keeping good company is essential for this positive development.”

Good company is crucial and there’s something to be said for the kind that you can touch. I have a need for presence that is very much not getting met. I don’t write this to seek solutions. I’m writing it to express myself and also put into words something other people are likely feeling. Somebody out there must be going through what I’m going through. If so, you’re not alone. I’m over here too, wishing for the same thing.

I dream of a world where we each have a strong, in-person community, or even more than one! A world where we spend time together in large groups because we recognize how important it is. A world where we understand good company is crucial for our mental health. A world where we understand we aren’t alone and we connect with people who are like us.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

Love and Community

By Rebekah / May 5, 2019

Facebook is reminding me of events from several years ago. In 2013 at this time I moved into a sublet in Berkeley, unsure if I would find a place to live that suited my needs and my budget. What’s interesting to remember, and relevant for my present situation, is seeing how taken care of I was. In one particular incident, that prompted a blogpost, somebody gave me a magnet while traveling. I could have thrown it away, but I kept it even though carrying around a refrigerator magnet when you don’t have a fridge isn’t logical.

When I moved into the Berkeley sublet, the bare metallic refrigerator gleamed under the kitchen light. I grabbed a scrap of paper to write my grocery list, which I normally keep on the fridge, but didn’t have a magnet to hold it up, until I remembered the magnet given to me months before. The universe provided me with something I didn’t know I needed, which moved me deeply.

Love and community! Isn’t this a great image? Photo by Tim Marshall on Unsplash

The universe continues to move me. At the moment, I’m unemployed and broke as a joke. Yet strangely, I feel relaxed and at ease because the universe continues to provide for me. On Wednesday, I went to a paid focus group. This week I have another focus group scheduled. These don’t happen regularly. I can’t plan or predict when I’ll be chosen because each focus group looks for a certain demographic. The fact I’m participating in two this month when I need the money is pure grace.

The universe is also showing up for me through friends. A friend paid me to babysit her son. Other friends have bought me dinner, or given me rides places, or gifted me with money and frequent flyer miles. (I feel a little awkward mentioning it, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t highlight my patreon campaign, which is a great way to contribute to me and this blog. No worries if you don’t feel moved, but it’s an option if it calls to you.)

I may be broke financially, but I feel rich in other respects due to my friendships. Thank you for that. Thank you for your generosity, for your support, your care. Thank you for helping me during this challenging time. This period has shown me I’ve invested wisely in my relationships.

Beneath my anxiety over getting a job, I feel calm and at ease. I feel supported and caught by a net that’s bigger than me. It’s a web woven with threads of friendship and love from my higher power.

My spiritual teacher often couches the divine as a loving parent, taking care of us, knowing what we need and want. It’s in difficult times that I see how true that is. In a weird way, I’m grateful I’m unemployed because it’s an opportunity for connection with my community, myself, and my higher power. I’ll be grateful when I have a job again, of course, but there’s also something special about witnessing the magic of the universe providing me with what I need.

I dream of a world where we notice how we’re taken care of. A world where we feel supported and at ease in good times and bad. A world where we recognize the value of our relationships. A world where we have faith the universe will come through for us.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

A Tree is Not a Forest

By Rebekah / January 28, 2018

The other day my Lyft driver said the word “thug” with so much derision it sounded like a slur. Frankly, I think that’s how he meant it. He also praised a town in California that restricts the number of residents by not building any new dwellings, and the town would rather pay penalties than allow section eight housing. What astounds me is this guy presumably thinks society would be better off if all towns quarantined the poor and people of color as if they were deadly viruses.

I understand this already happens to a large degree – many places stratify according to socioeconomics and/or ethnicity – but it’s shortsighted and unnatural. I read a fascinating article about trees the other day. Did you know a tree can be only as strong as the forest that surrounds it?

What applies to trees applies to people. Photo by veeterzy on Unsplash.

Neighboring trees help each other through their root systems either directly, by intertwining their roots, or indirectly, by growing fungal networks around the roots that serve as a sort of extended nervous system. Why do they do this? According to German forester Peter Wohlleben, it’s because like in human communities, there are advantages to working together. He said:

“A tree is not a forest. On its own, a tree cannot establish a consistent local climate. It is at the mercy of wind and weather. But together, many trees create an ecosystem that moderates extremes of heat and cold, stores a great deal of water, and generates a great deal of humidity. And in this protected environment, trees can live to be very old. To get to this point, the community must remain intact no matter what. If every tree were looking out only for itself, then quite a few of them would never reach old age. Regular fatalities would result in many large gaps in the tree canopy, which would make it easier for storms to get inside the forest and uproot more trees. The heat of summer would reach the forest floor and dry it out. Every tree would suffer.

“Every tree, therefore, is valuable to the community and worth keeping around for as long as possible. And that is why even sick individuals are supported and nourished until they recover. Next time, perhaps it will be the other way round, and the supporting tree might be the one in need of assistance.”

It seems so obvious, noting at one time or another we may be in need of assistance, yet somehow it’s not. We praise rugged individualism in the U.S. as if that’s a good thing. We pretend a person can be separated from others and thrive. Human beings are social creatures, we need other people to survive, yet we operate as if the problems of those down the street have nothing to do with us, as if there is an “over there” and an “over here.” We are already living in a community, we are all already sharing the same resources, and in order for us all to thrive, it’s important we remember that. And that’s the sort of world I want to live in.

I dream of a world where we remember we are all in this together. A world where we realize isolating ourselves from problems doesn’t make them go away. A world where we remember we can only be as strong as the community around us. A world where we realize a tree is not a forest and a human is not a community.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

The Human Family Includes Everyone

By Rebekah / May 7, 2017

The other week I posted a news story on facebook with commentary that I have compassion for robbers and the robbed, and was met with so much vitriol it astounded me. People I didn’t know called me a moron (and worse), told me to get off of facebook, etc. What I heard over and over again was, “I’m poor and I’ve never robbed anyone.” That’s great! I’m glad there are poor people that don’t rob others. Keep not robbing.

What strikes me is how me-centered that viewpoint is. There is an inherent expectation that we all act a certain way, but guess what? We don’t. And placing so much onus on the individual doesn’t work. I’m reminded here of the recently passed healthcare bill in the House of Representatives. The terms of the bill are ludicrous in my opinion. “Have you ever been sick? Are you a woman? So sorry, no healthcare insurance for you or you’ll have to pay staggering premiums. Good luck with that.”

We are all a part of the human family.

Indian philosopher and economist P.R. Sarkar said, “Rich people do not want to consider the needs of the poor, because if they do, they will have to make some sacrifices. Where will their luxuries and comforts come from if hunger does not burn the bellies of the poor?” Our capitalistic society encourages this mindset, encourages us to look out only for ourselves, and try to scramble to the top of the heap by declaring, “I worked hard for this so I earned it!” Yes, but that means the suffering of others continues. It’s easy to dismiss, to say the people in that position just didn’t work hard enough, or try hard enough, or act the right way, or whatever. There are a thousand excuses we could give.

Sarkar said, “[T]o admit that these sufferings are the result of social injustices implies that everyone is responsible.” And that’s the thing, we are all responsible. We are all responsible for each other. The human family includes everyone. I’ve quoted this African proverb before, but it’s pertinent so I’m quoting it again: “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.”

I want to go far. I long to go far. How do we do that? What can little ole me do from her apartment here in California? It sounds cheesy as all get out, but one of the answers is love. I’ll close with another quote from Sarkar:

Like any other problem, great or small, there is only one way to solve economic problems, and that is through genuine love for humanity. This love will give people guidance; it will show them what to do and what not to do. It is not necessary to study great numbers of books or to rely upon those who speculate with the future of the silent masses. The only essential requirement is to look upon humanity with genuine sympathy.

I may not be a politician, I may not be an economist or a philanthropist or a CEO, but I sure as heck can love humanity. I can have compassion and sympathy and empathy for those around me. I can keep loving people even through their missteps. I can keep spreading love and embodying love and talking about love even when people call me foolish. And I will.

I dream of a world where a genuine love for humanity is awakened in all of us. A world where we all look out for each other. A world where we understand our progress is linked to those around us. A world where we understand the human family includes everyone and we act accordingly.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

Finding a Flock

By Rebekah / April 16, 2017

I spent this weekend with dear friends of mine and all I could think was, “Thank God.” When the world feels like too much, when I recoil in horror after reading the news, good company lifts my spirits. In Sanskrit, the word for that is satsaunga. What follows is a post I wrote about the subject nearly six years ago.

This weekend I had the good fortune of being surrounded by folks who practice the same yoga and meditation I do. We are all close in age with only 10 years between the eldest and the youngest. It was a delicious weekend because we had excellent food, but also because it was one of the rare times I was surrounded by a large group of people who are similar to me. Sure, I’ve been to tons of yoga and meditation retreats, but it’s not as if I’m friends with everyone there like at the gathering this weekend.

Pictured is a flock of starlings.

Experiences like these give me hope for the future. If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you know I had a rough childhood socially. I had friends, but most of them lived far away. I suffered from a lot of peer rejection and self-defined as the “weird” kid. Not because I ate paste or anything, but because I’m extremely sensitive to energy and cared about things like vegetarianism as an 8 year old. “Weird” is a title I’ve carried with me for much of my life. Inherent in “weird” is not fitting in or being an outsider. I’ve been shifting my focus away from that because I see how viewing myself as “weird” has been harmful. This weekend was a prime example because I didn’t feel out of place – I realized it just took me a while to find my flock; as in “Birds of a feather flock together.”

Speaking of birds flocking together, I’m reminded of this video by Sophie Windsor Clive who filmed a flock of starlings. It’s awesome in the truest sense of the word and captures the power and the beauty of belonging.


I know there’s a lot of talk about the necessity of cross pollination, of mixing different classes, races, and mindsets, which I completely agree with, but there’s also something to be said for being with people who get you. People who already have a shared understanding of where you’re coming from so there’s no need to explain things to them. People who love and support you and just want to see you happy. It’s a beautiful and touching thing, that sort of community. That’s what inspires me most: Someone like me who constantly defined herself as “different” found herself around other “different” people. Like those starlings who created new shapes by flying together, when people join in groups, beautiful things can happen. Because ultimately even the “loners” and “freaks” will find others like them. It may just take a while. In essence, no one is as alone as they think they are. And when a bird finds its flock, there’s great power in that.

I dream of a world where everyone feels a sense of community and belonging. A world where every person has a support network. A world where no one has to fend for themselves because we are all taking care of each other. A world where we can all live happy, joyous, and free. A world where we all fly with a flock that fits us.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

Everything is More Similar than Different

By Rebekah / March 13, 2016

This post comes to you from Denmark where I’m visiting a friend. What I’ve found so interesting is the landscape is similar to other places I’ve been. While taking the train, looking out the window, I was reminded of Middle America — except there were more windmills. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought I was passing through Iowa.

Then today at the beach, I looked around and the combination of the sand’s color, dunes, and water reminded me of the Outer Banks in North Carolina. I’m sure there are some places in Denmark that are completely unique to this region, but today at the beach, I was reminded things are more the same than they are different, and especially in these times, it’s important to keep looking at what binds us rather than what divides us.

I thought about including a windmill pic but how could I resist this photo?

I thought about including a windmill pic but how could I resist this photo?

In our world today, there are some people who are trying to create division. People who are trying to use one group or another as a scapegoat for the world’s problems. That to me is dangerous. When we start saying, “All of these people are like this,” or “Those people are like that,” we further enhance our separateness. It’s when we start creating an “us” and “them” mindset that it becomes easier to mistreat people. It’s easier to justify atrocious acts when a person becomes someone who is “not like me.”

My spiritual teacher says this kind of thinking makes different groups become more violent toward each other, which is extremely dangerous for human civilization.

Haven’t we had enough of that? I’m not naïve enough to think there will never be any conflicts in the world, but I think we start moving in a better direction when we realize, to paraphrase Shakespeare, that we all bleed when we are pricked. We all feel pain and joy. We all want to be happy and to realize our dreams.

My teacher also says, “The collectivity is not outside you – your future is inseparably connected with the collective fortune. You must take the entire collectivity with you and move towards the sweetest radiance of the new crimson dawn, beyond the veil of the darkest night.”

I think we move towards the sweetest radiance of the new crimson dawn when we realize we are more similar than we are different. Heck, not just us as people, but also the landscape, as I’ve discovered while I’ve been in Denmark. We are not that different, you and I.

I dream of a world where we remember we are more similar than we are different. A world where we focus on what unites us rather than divides us. A world where we remember people are people everywhere. A world where we work together to move toward the new crimson dawn.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

Creating a World We Wish To See

By Rebekah / September 20, 2015

After writing my post last week, “The Role of the Artist (and Writer),” I was inspired to do something. Why not create a world where artists and writers are supported for the work they do? To that end, I started a Patreon campaign. I created a video to explain a little more:

If you’re more of a reader, a Patreon campaign is kind of like kickstarter, but instead of raising money for one big project, it’s support on a continuous level. By contributing, you are not only supporting me, you are supporting you. You are supporting yourself because I do not create art for art’s sake — I create art for service and blessedness. I create to inspire, to encourage, and to uplift. Not myself, but you.

By contributing to my Patreon campaign you are valuing your own spiritual growth and progress because my job as an artist and writer is to bridge the finite and infinite, the mundane and the transcendental. By contributing to my Patreon campaign you are saying, “Yes, I want more of that. Yes, that’s important to me.”

The money itself doesn’t matter so much. I mean, of course I could use a few extra dollars in my pocket, but mostly what’s important to me is creating a world we wish to see. A world we want to live in. So often we lament the state of the world today and long for a better future. By contributing to my Patreon campaign, in a small way we can create a society that values and supports its artists. A world where artists are allowed to continue to create because they have the backing of their community.

I realize not everyone is flush with cash, and that’s fine; there’s no minimum to contribute — even $3 a month would make a difference. And perhaps you know someone else who would also support this message and what we’re trying to accomplish here. It is only together that we will create a world we wish to see.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

You Plus Me Equals We

By Rebekah / August 2, 2015

Last week, I watched an inspirational movie about kids who utilized their talents to win scholarships to college and pull themselves out of poverty. All of the kids were the first in their families to go to college, and by doing so they become teachers, writers, policemen, etc. They weren’t forced to work in low-wage jobs like their parents were.

I teared up watching the flick – I love that they improved their lives – but then I got to thinking, “What about everyone else?” What about the kids who don’t have an exceptional talent that wins them a scholarship? These kids escaped the cycle of poverty, but someone else is waiting in the wings to take their place. Just because one person no longer has to pick oranges for a living doesn’t mean oranges stop getting picked. It doesn’t mean all the other orange pickers no longer have to endure poor working conditions and low wages.

If you think about it, all society consists of is you and me. "You" being plural here.

If you think about it, all society consists of is you and me. “You” being plural here.

The cycle of exploitation continues and our capitalistic economy feeds off it. In the case of food production, almost literally. Why is this? Because we continue to emphasis the rights of individuals (or corporations, who are now considered people) over the collective.

I’ve seen the individual versus the collective show up in a big way this week with the killing of Cecil the Lion. Minnesotan dentist Walter Palmer paid $50,000 to hunt Cecil the Lion, who was a big tourist attraction in Zimbabwe. Did Palmer think about anyone other than himself when he set out to kill Cecil? No he did not. He was prioritizing his own selfish interests.

Another way that the individual versus the collective is prioritized is the public’s reaction to the killing of Cecil. We’re directing so much ire against Palmer, but not talking as much about poaching laws in general. Outrage has reached such a fever pitch that Zimbabwe is calling for Palmer’s extradition and many people in the U.S. agree. I think part of the reason we’re seeing so much outrage over Cecil is it’s easy to excoriate an individual.

A few of my friends who are more focused on the collective have exclaimed they wish society would be as outraged over the killing of black people in our country as people are over the killing of Cecil. It’s harder to evoke as much outrage against a system, which is also harder to dismantle, than it is to get pissed off an at individual. Racism is so rampant, it’s seeped into many aspects of life, and how do you go about changing something like that?

I think it starts with prioritizing the collective. There is an African proverb that says, “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” We are not going to go far if we keep focusing on ourselves alone. We are not going to solve any of our serious societal problems if we’re thinking, “How can I benefit?” instead of “How can we benefit?” Life can be better for all of us but that starts with striking a balance between the individual and the collective.

My spiritual teacher says, “One must not forget that collective welfare lies in individuals and individual welfare lies in collectivity. Without ensuring individual comforts through the proper provision of food, light, air, accommodation, and medical treatment, the welfare of the collective body can never be achieved. One will have to promote individual welfare motivated by the spirit of promoting collective welfare.”

I dream of a world where we go far, together. A world where we prioritize taking care of each other. A world where we understand what’s good for the collective is also good for the individual. A world where we work to raise each other up, and improve life for us all, because after all, you plus me equals we.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.