We live in disorienting times. For many of us, our own day to day reality feels somewhat normal, and yet, we’re aware – acutely or dimly – that our neighbors and loved ones, our country itself, is in turmoil, at risk. It is hard to find our footing, as we try to navigate being informed and engaged, and living our lives. At greatest risk, in times like these, is our compassionate heart. It is difficult to remain present and open to the world and to those we love and to our community when we’re struggling. Compassion fatigue is real, and apathy rises. When we feel overwhelmed, one of the most common responses is avoidance.
We humans are made for love and joy. This is just as true, perhaps even more true, when days are difficult than it is when times are easier. This is the time of year when the cultural noise puts pressure on for folx to “be merry and gay,” and of course, for many, these are not merry and gay days. In addition to the grave harms being done in our names, we experience the natural sufferings of life – some of us have lost loved ones, or are struggling to make ends meet, or are wrestling with addiction or watching loved ones struggle. These are days that cry out for nuance and grace, which can be hard to come by when the world is screaming “be happy,” and the news is shocking, day after day.
I know you have heard us say, “choose two or three things you care deeply about, and focus on those.” This is true – it’s a critical practice, though of course, it’s not really that simple. But perhaps alongside that, it helps to remember that we need some balance and flow in our days and in each week, to keep our hearts supple and open to the world with compassion. Every day, we need a little silence for reflection: perhaps a cup of tea or coffee, some journaling or reading of poetry, or taking time to look at the beauty of the world. Every day, we need a little laughter, some human interaction that reminds us we are connected in a web of love and care. Every day, we might try to do just one thing that helps or heals, that makes a difference, lets our values, needs or demands for justice be known. It can be a call to a legislator, a postcard or email sent, showing up at a town hall meeting or rally, depending on the day. It might be a call to a sick friend, or a card to someone who is struggling. It helps me to remember to do as I would hope others would or will do for me when I am in trouble. Lend a helping hand, and then rest. Drink water, sleep, tend to your body as a good gift. You don’t have to watch the news every day to be informed; find a schedule of discovery that works for you, find voices you trust and make it a spiritual practice to focus on your concerns, and then, with a loving word for the rest, set it down.
We are all in this together; wherever we are going, we are going there together. None of us is free until all of us are free. This is why Rev. Claudia and I are working together to lift up our work toward collective liberation as we do the work of the congregation. It’s why we are working to make our congregational home prepared if ICE or others come for those we love; it’s why week after week, we share ways we think you can take action and keep your heart open to the world without being overwhelmed.
If you are happy and looking forward to the holiday season, or whether it is a hard one and you tuck yourself away from forced joy, it is ok to be you with all your complex, nuanced, buoyant or difficult feelings. Our community is made to allow you to bring your whole, full, and true self to our table. You are loved, just as you are, and you are welcome here. We’re all in this together.
– Rev. Audette