dharma

Yesterday, at 1:00 PM on a sunny Wednesday, a veteran opened fire - killing one and injuring four, in a medical facility a 5-minute walk away from our home.

It is days like yesterday that make me question what I do. 

Actually, it’s more intense than that. 

Days like yesterday convince me that what I’m doing does not matter. 

The thoughts come quickly.

That could have been me, I walk there all the time. 

That could have been Amish, with an angry patient in his clinic.

These words I write, these reframes I offer, these communities I create feel so silly in this heartbreak.

The questions come too.

What the fuck am I doing? 

Does any of this even matter?

Am I living in a delusion that won’t move the needle on anything, ever?

And then, I “should” on myself.

I should be running orgs to end gun violence. 

I should be a doctor, treating these victims. 

I should be out in the streets protesting our politics.  

The thing is - I’ve been here before. Haven’t we all? Every day, there is a new crisis that demands our attention. Every day, a new way to feel hopeless. 

One day, it is abortion rights. The next, our planet burning. Another day, another shooting. Another one, our economy sinking. 

I mean - Jesus. Am I right? 

What the FUCK are we supposed to do with all of this? 

How the hell can I make it better, when I can’t even properly get involved with one thing?

It feels hopeless, and heartless, and like all of these roads lead to a dead end. 

And then this morning, I had a thought.

Roads. 

Interesting.

How many roads are there to death?

Seemingly endless. 

People die from freak accidents.

They also die by their own hands. 

People die from drug overdoses.

They also die from random heart attacks.

People die from senseless gun violence.

They also die peacefully in their sleep. 

I cannot list all of the ways, all of the permutations that people die. And I won’t - because this isn’t actually about death. 

It is about us. The still-living, the not-dead-yet’s. This is about what we can do next.

My first reaction is almost always to throw myself into the most-urgent-cause. But inevitably, this momentum begins to fade. Enough time passes, distance is created, and while I still care - I’m not actively “working” on it, per se.

This is sweaty to even admit, because it makes me feel like a bad civilian. Like someone who isn’t “involved enough,” or whatever. 

This also makes me - above anything - a HUMAN, with limited resources. 

Someone who cannot be everything, everywhere, all at once.

You know what else is like that?

The Earth. 

The thing that goes hand-in-hand with sustainability.

The thing we recognize as something not blow through.

What this news cycle has done is blast our systems with all of the problems. It overwhelms us by showing us everything we cannot help.

It’s almost designed to make us feel helpless, so jaded that we don’t even try. So convinced that nothing we do will ever matter. 

The gap between this news cycle, these seemingly endless ways to die, this insane amount of knowledge that we’ve been given - is that it fails to address the solution as something that isn’t The Solution. It fails to bring our own biodiversity into the mix.

Listen. My hot take here is that we do not react to the day’s cause. Instead, we root down to our own, unique purpose. 

I’m not saying ignore what’s around you. I’m not saying “just stop caring.”

I’m saying - use it as fuel to do the thing only you can. 

The forest would be fucking useless if the trees tried to turn themselves into bugs.

The jungle would die in an instant if jaguars tried to be moss.

Can you imagine? If they began to say the stupid things we say to ourselves.

“I guess I’m useful by providing shade, but maybe it’s better to fly around instead?”

“Hunting is cool and all, but I should really be moisturizing the soil.” 

Um. No, bitch.

You should be doing you - that’s the point.

That is why you are here in the first place. 

I know that people scoff at phrases like “find your purpose” and “consciousness raising” - but I have this idea that it might save the world. 

That if people believed, really believed, that they are here for a fucking reason - that they would not be shooting and hating others in sight. 

You don’t have to believe this. You really don’t. You might be a frog, or a lion, or whatever. 

You might be skilled at rallying protests, you might be enthralled with how to change policies, you might be inspired to treat people medically. 

What I am realizing is -

I am not. 

And that is not shameful.

It is okay. 

Because my job is to do what I’m meant to do. 

And our collective job is to trust that it all matters.

I don’t know if these communities will be a total bust, or the thing that stops someone from committing suicide.

Just like you don’t know if your videos about gardening will become someone’s drug.

I don’t know if my choreography will be “something fun” or inspire someone to turn their health around.

Just like you don’t know if what you say to your daughter will help her depression, and change her life.

I don’t know if the words I write will fall on deaf ears, or be the thing that starts a revolution.

Just like you don’t know if the song you write will save a life. 

We don’t know. We will never know. But it serves nothing to do nothing because of that. 

Because I would rather be called naive than a hopeless coward. 

So don’t just “do something!!!”

Tune that shit out.

Do the thing that is most sustainable to your system.

Do the thing you can’t not do, and do it well. 

We need people in every corner of this huge, massive ecosystem.

We need people doing different things, things only they can.

We need people to believe they are not here by accident.

We need every part of this jungle to survive.

Living your gift, following your passion, is not a woo-woo thing for privileged people.

It is a duty. And it is wildly different for each of us. 

We need each other. More than ever. We need the things that are buried within us. We need to give ourselves permission to at least try. 

There are a million roads to death.

A million roads to life, too.

So choose one, and make it matter. 

Walk the road meant for your feet alone. 

Be naive.

Be brave.

Be you.