What is there to offer you during these times, when the weight of the world is so palpable? When we think our collective back is already breaking under all it has to bear yet more gets thrown into the pack. We are all experiencing these times and current issues on different levels, some of us from a distance, some in the heart of it all, some by proxy to someone we care about who’s in it. To feel overwhelm, to grieve, to feel small in the face of it all, to feel tired are just some of the responses you might be feeling. Me too.
We’re living in an age where updates on world news — the good and the bad — can be consumed in real time. Overwhelm is an inevitable side effect to this amazing tool. Our own peace, tranquil spaces, and personal joys can feel stifled when we know these feelings are currently hard to access for other members of our global kin. To turn away is not the answer, nor is to overwhelm our own systems to the point of inaction, indifference, and adrenal fatigue.
The other morning I bore witness to one of life’s great dualities. It was one moment of many that occur every second in our great world, the simultaneous omnipresence of immense pain and sorrow with absolute peace, joy and beauty. While one heart aches another bursts with love. Where war rages, somewhere else tranquility exists. “How can there be any joy when such suffering also exists?”, asks the tender heart. I don’t know but somehow it does, has, and will.
So, again, what is there to offer you during these times when the weight of the world is so palpable? Perhaps the offering of a candle to light in prayer, to set an intention to, a beacon of hope. Perhaps an oracle deck for you to commune with your own heart, to heal your own wounds so you can help heal others, a light to guide your way. Perhaps an artful greeting card to send words of thanks, to let someone know you’re thinking of them, to offer encouragement during these times. Perhaps a beautiful image to remind you that beauty still exists, to inspire you, to help make the hard stuff more processable.
A candle, an oracle deck, a greeting card are insignificant things relative to the bigger issues we’re processing as a collective. And sometimes, it’s these seemingly insignificant things that can have the power to carry us through hard times. They can offer a welcomed moment of pause to catch our breath before going onward. An invitation to ground in something tangible, something constant. They can be a point of connection. In other words, do continue to care and stay informed, to mobilize and offer yourself in service where and when you can — within the scope of your capacity — and also, continue to make your art, to write your poems, to plant the garden, to hone your craft, to share your offerings with the world. This has always been what gets us through.