“I don’t fill my life with pain over something I can’t change. Life may not be fair, but I’ve still got to find a way to live it.”  — Gail Williamson, IN SWEET COMPANY: CONVERSATIONS WITH EXTRAORDINARY WOMEN ABOUT LIVING A SPIRITUAL LIFE

I sit and gather my thoughts, mindful of the conjunction of Saturday’s events in Arizona with the advent of the New Year. We come together, a nation intent on new beginnings, old wounds festering — Virginia Tech, Columbine, Oklahoma City — mourning mothers who lost a child, husbands and wives who lost a partner, supermarket patrons and casual passersby caught in the line of fire. We are conversant with the angst of those who, though physically spared, will relive this afternoon many times throughout their lives. And though we have done this all before, we still cannot imagine the remorse of parents whose son made us witnesses to the darkness that consumed his heart.

Thanks to wonders of modern technology we were practiced helpless bystanders at this shooting. We know that the words “There, but for the grace of God, go I” apply to us. Because we are good people, we feel obliged to make things right — if not in the world, than surely within our own hearts. And though it’s not easy to admit, every one of us knows what it’s like to be disappointed with the world — the anger turned inward, the blame projected out onto others — the shame of it, the alienation and confusion. While we must first and always focus on what is good within us and in the world and what we can do to make things better, if we do not also take responsibility for our anger and disappointment, if we do not change ourselves, we will not move beyond the pitch and sway of our emotions, and we will not exercise our best judgment in the face of our challenges and conflicts.

To do the difficult work of owning and repairing our hearts — and the heart of our nation — we must, as Margaret Wheatley suggests in IN SWEET COMPANY, “… approach chaos with humility rather than blame and negation.” We must trust in and pull from a Source greater than our finite selves. As Riane Eisler said, also in ISC, “There is a loving countenance that is part of our human experience particularly in times when violence and abuse are dominant …. When we are hurting, we all want someone we can go to and say, ‘Take care of me. Love me. Help me.'” Whether we find this loving countenance in friends and family, in nature, in service to others or In our spiritual practice, it opens us to gentleness and support. Its dearth in our lives — in our relationships, in our politics, in our board rooms, in our schools and health care systems — costs us dearly, as we have just and often seen.

There are times in every life when each of us needs to be heard, to know we are loved in spite of ourselves. That we seek support and consolation does not mean we are inadequate, or that we do not also stand for truth and justice. On the contrary, it’s by reaching beyond the limitations of our pride and our human intellect that we complete ourselves and become whole. When we learn the truth of who we really are, we gain the courage to live that truth in each new year — and for all time. 

Your thoughts?