For more years than I can remember, every night I would climb into bed after a long and (since I was considerably younger) productive day, I would savor the clean sheets, the quietness of the bedroom, the comfort of the mattress, the ease I felt, sense of safety, of warmth, I would be so grateful, so deeply grateful, content and at peace.
When did it change for me? I can’t say exactly. Was it during the first Trump admin or even before?
These days, at days end, as well as all the good feelings described above, there is a simultaneous arising of sadness, of concern for all those, here and around the world, who do not have any semblance of this goodness, this safety, this clean warm bed upon which to lay their heads at the end of a long, often, hard day. Suddenly, or was it over some months, or years, my sense of wellbeing was inextricably bound, woven, to those less fortunate.
This new experience of simultaneous arisings did not take away from my sense of gratitude, it just added an equal and opposite feeling of care, for the many less fortunate, the enslaved, the radically poor, the overworked, over looked, the marginalized and persecuted both by political turmoil, social unrest, or war.
For a while, I suspected that I was undergoing some form of survivor guilt. Over time and with due examination, I determined that was not the essential case. Rather, I was wishing, wanting, for all to have and know what I had and was enjoying at day’s end. Rather than feeling guilty for what I had, I wished that many, most, all, may have some semblance of it too.
I’m well aware that it is a privilege to care about the other. It means that you yourself, I myself, have my basic needs met and sufficiently satisfied. I am not having to pick for food scraps on the landfill or find that one covered bridge to protect myself from the rain. Am not having to spend my time taking orders from those who only care to use me, or having to be scared every time the doorbell rings, scared to fall asleep at nigh. That state of good fortune applies to a significant, not by any means all, swath of the Western World.
Fast forward to this new emerging world order where every day brings a new outrage, a new awareness of the country tilting so far right as to unbalance and destabilize most of us from standing straight, seeing straight, or even determining how to keep balance or hold, let alone how we might move forward in a way that maintains some sanity for us and may be of benefit to more than just ourselves. South of the border, in the US, every day brings another assault on basic values that naively we may have thought inviolate or protected by the very constitution of this country, the face of liberal democracy for at least the last 80 years and more. This new administration, is seeking and succeeding in rearranging world alliances, alienating our friends, challenging and denying personal freedoms, diverting our attention with a myriad of indignities, while a new order is being established under our inattentive or ineffective noses, I hardly know how to feel, think, day to day, given the cruelties on the horizon, yet already visible and felt, for so many.
The Western alliance is splintering, the Western party is also over. The party of easy living, assuming that the future will be better than the past, assuming that all will be well and that goodness, kindness and the best of humanity will prevail. That myth was shattered for the Western World during the second world war, after which we had this gloriously refreshing breath of humility and creativity, which is now shutting down again in favor of the rich, the powerful, the bullies and the techno-authoritarians. At this point in history, it’s not at all clear that goodness will prevail. All the more important, I think, that we attempt keep it alive within ourselves, our actions, our way of being out in the larger world.
But I worry for this country in which I live, I worry even more for the planet on which we all live.
In other words, I now worry for others, maybe even more than I worry for myself. I am older and may not even see the worst of what is to come during my lifetime. However, given the rate of global unrest, I may still see a lot in my lifetime.
I admit, regrettably, I am a worrier. Have always admired that the word is so close, yet so far away from ‘warrior’. Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche once referred to the ‘sad heart of the warrior’. That makes sense to me, a warrior would have seen the worse of what we do to each other, yet they still fight as needed, whether that fight is an internal struggle like an addiction that has to be confronted and conquered, or whether it is a tyrant that needs to be put in place and prevented from spreading, or the bully that torments or abuses their family, or their country.
But if ‘worry’ doesn’t find its way to alchemize into the ‘warrior’, it runs the risk of becoming merely the gerbil wheel of the mind, spinning, endlessly round and round. But when I follow the bread crumbs down the yellow brick road, worry often points to underlaying sorrow or fear, to hopelessness or despair, it so often points to outrage. It so often leads me to the sad heart which has to face loss. Loss of the dream of liberal democracy, loss of the myth of America being a beacon of hope, (I’m not saying justice, just hope), loss of any notion of a government for the people. This sense of loss and the sadness that arises, can in turn lead to meaningful action, even if that action is the courage needed to bear witness, or the commitment needed to take more ‘hands on’ action.
Many have resolved the internal tension that arises from such similar concerns as the one I’m voicing here by turning away from the ‘news’, cutting down radically on what information comes in. So often since the election, I’ve heard many say, well, I just won’t tune in to the larger world, I’ll stay focused on what brings me joy, nurture, aliveness, I’ll focus on my immediate world primarily. It’s an impulse which I understand, which makes one kind of sense. But there is a saying which goes something to the effect of ‘You may not be interested in politics, but politics is interested in you.’
However we do this, we undoubtedly will not be immune to the goings on in the larger world, whether it’s your sweet local landscape company suddenly disappeared because someone has been deported, or the prices of everyday items spiking up again in the new Trumpian Tariff wars, whether it’s shutting down of educational art programs where your kids thrived, or your personal information being more vulnerable to whomever might be in a position to obtain it, or your personal freedoms of choice about whom you can love and how you live your personal health care or reproductive life, or the geopolitical landscape of our present alliances tossed up and re-arranged, or those with contrary views simply plucked out of air and not given due process before being deported or squirrelled away in unknown detention centers.
We are too connected, yet not connected enough. We are too flooded by news, yet not informed enough. We are in trouble.
Yet turning away is as fruitless as just worrying. Most of us have come across the term ‘spiritual by-pass.’ There is also ‘emotional by-pass’, avoiding that which brings us into pain, sorrow or discomfort. Somehow, I think we (including myself) need to find a way of keeping our fingers on the political pulse, hopefully without getting flooded, but enough that we allow ourselves to be affected. If strong feelings or grief or outrage arises in relation to this rightward turn into dominance, which is such an anathema to so much that I, and many of us value, then yes, grief is on the menu, but maybe, action is too. If we choose to turn from that task, we will also have to turn away from so much that makes us uncomfortable. We will have to turn off, tune out, or live only within our protective bubbles, impervious to the outside.
‘By-passed’ grief has a tendency to morph so easily into self-righteousness, into obsessive mind fucks, denial, or attempts at grand but undoable solutions before you have authentically felt what is truly and rightfully yours to do, feel, act, witness or respond to. Rather than spinning with each new threat, each new outrage de jour, rather than talking endlessly and fruitlessly about it, maybe we need to dive under the surface, where the raw, relevant internal conversation is happening.
What’s happening in the wide world beyond my immediate community, is so big, so out of my control. But how I behave when I’m sad or scared is more within my control, not always, but often. When I am ‘warrior’ enough to feel it, to allow the fullness of sorrow, it softens me, even as it scares me, helps me stay somewhat openhearted, and surely it does help me stay grateful; for life itself, its abundance, for the natural world, the elements, for beauty, for love, friends, community. Gratitude too for the luxury and ability to feel for those who may be less fortunate than I. Two sides of the same coin which has ‘living in interesting times’ boldly embossed on it.
Love to you dear readers, whomever you are. May spring time, unabashed in her surge towards renewal, find you. May we learn from her and take courage from her resilience.
Priya.
P.S. As always, feel free to comment back to me, and to share this with whomever you wish to.
