We don’t have to look very far these days to witness the suffering, injustice and indifference that seems to plague us. There is unraveling everywhere. Outrage seems to be the most acceptable response. The rage of wanting things to be different, better, fairer burns in me too. It wasn’t too long ago that the world seemed to be on fire for a series of different injustices, the summer I’ll never forget.
I learned something that summer. It’s easy to fall into the very human trap of comparison. Are we really measuring each other’s compassion according to their online performance of activism? What has the world come to?
There’s a longer conversation here about the way in which we conflate our online existence with our offline ones. Or have we forgotten entirely how to delineate the two? What does it look like to straddle the lines between the online world and the real world? I certainly haven’t found the balance for myself. The people who divest from the platforms entirely seem to be the most sane, have the most balanced nervous systems, and are less over-stimulated, in general. Is divesting the only answer?
And trust me, I know that systemic violence is real. I know that systems are made up of people. I know that ignorance is partly to blame for the stagnancy of social and political problems.
I used to be in the camp of people that shamed others for looking away. But now, after experiencing a season of complete burnout from closely working on issues that felt more personal than political I know that sometimes going dark and mindfully consuming media is the most self-compassionate choice.
We all have roles to play in the pursuit of liberation. And our roles evolve throughout each season, each lifetime. I’m choosing to be more compassionate and understanding to myself, and to others, about how and when we have the capacity to show up. I’m choosing to be more gracious with myself about what showing up even looks like.
At the end of day we’re all worried about the same things – coming home to people we love, being healthy and well, putting food on the table, having a roof over our heads, and feeling at peace when our head hits the pillow at night.
Is it possible that we can step outside our own very limited worldview for just a moment to bear witness to others? I’m not saying love, curiosity, kindness, empathy and compassion will solve human rights issues the world over… but what if they can? I have to believe that it’s possible.
“What counteracts erasure? Witnessing. — Hala Alyan
Feeling Hopeful
This past weekend I worked the NYC marathon. Let me paint the picture for you — it was a beautiful fall Sunday, 65 degrees and sunny. Over 50,000 runners. Crowds of supporters filled the streets, pouring out of their apartments, cheering for strangers and friends and family alike. Shouting words of encouragement and taking the time to handwrite signs. There was a visceral, palpable energy in the air. It reminded me that there is an abiding love that is always abundantly available to us. It reminded me why it’s so important to be in community. It poured new life into me. I met so many warm, friendly, compassionate people. People just happy to be alive and outside in the sun, dancing and celebrating and cheering and showing up for each other. I left feeling a renewed sense of hopefulness and faith in humanity.
My heart aches for the collective and individual loss and suffering and hardship that it seems like is everywhere right now and always. If I sit with myself long enough I have to believe that in all of it there is purpose. I know that in everything there is love, it just dresses up in different costumes. Sometimes love looks like grief, heartbreak, rage. I know everything and I know nothing. I know that love is the answer to every problem.
I’m praying for peace, freedom and liberation for all people everywhere. It may not happen in my lifetime, but I have to believe that one day, it will.
None of us are free until all of us are free.
Be gentle with yourself this week,
Asha Nia