In the Krishna-bhakti tradition, there’s a beautiful song that’s sung during this time of year called dāmōdarāṣṭakaṁ that includes this verse:
Worldly sorrows and worldly joys come and go like waves in the ocean. Sometimes we have cause to celebrate, sometimes we have cause to lament. Either way, we can know for certain that this, too, shall pass.
If you’re here in the U.S.A., then if you’re celebrating over the prospect of RFK Jr taking the fluoride out of your drinking water or lamenting over the prospect of being protected whether you like it or not, either way, we have to find ways to get through what promises to be a tumultuous time.
It may be helpful to step back and take note of how this time will not be much different from most other times.
Such as my formative years, which included the assassination of a President, the murder of his presumed assassin (still the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen on live television), violence against civil rights protestors and the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., the assassination of a Presidential candidate – the aforementioned RFK Jr’s father, a highly unpopular and gruesome war in Vietnam spiraling out of control, the murder of antiwar protesters by National Guardsmen, and so on.
And all of that happened over the course of just 7 years.
And World War II ended just 20 some-odd years before that.
And between the two there were about 140 other wars, insurgencies, and coup d’état along with 22 natural disasters and 6 major epidemics.
The truth is that the world is on fire, under water, collapsing, convulsing, or making us miserable one way or another most of the time. Unfortunately, this is just normal.
Nevertheless, we should do everything we can to make the world a safer, cleaner, kinder, and more peaceful place.
And we should be convinced that a more beautiful world is possible because anything is possible.
To do the work of building a better world, we need to overcome fear, avoid isolation, prevent exhaustion, and resist disorientation.
Here are a few ideas on how to do that:
- Trust yourself. If someone says it’s raining and someone else says it’s sunny, your job isn’t to remain neutral or think about what your conceptions of “rainy” and “sunny” are; it’s to look out the window and see for yourself. Start with trusting your own inner voice as a way to protect yourself from internalizing messages that are designed to sow distrust in your own sense of perception.
- Connect with people you trust. Don’t fall prey to social isolation or let yourself become mentally closed off from the world. Fear breeds distance. Make a conscious effort to break that distance by joining an affinity group or finding a few people you can regularly explore your own thinking with. In a destabilized society, we need people we trust to help us stay grounded.
- Acknowledge your feelings. Name them and say their names out loud: disbelief, anger, sadness, confusion, whatever they are. If you’re not an emo kind of person, consider the likelihood that rationalizing, intellectualizing or ignoring your feelings is a strategic error. Take your time as you work your way toward acceptance, resilience, and power.
- Let go of what you can’t change: Paradoxically, the inner peace and stability we need to do the work of building a better world requires an acknowledgement that we aren’t in control of the results of our actions. Realistically, all we can do is commit to trying to understand what actions are right and taking that action while simultaneously letting go of our attachment to the outcome.
- Re-commit to your spiritual practice. Remember, the world is going to do what the world is going to do and it doesn’t have an obligation to align with your desires. If you react to every bad thing that happens then you’ll burn yourself out and you won’t have time for anything else. Instead double-down on your investment in your spiritual practice or, if you don’t have one yet, start one.
I stopped writing this email for a moment and turned to look out my window; I saw the brilliance of the sun dancing off the golden leaves of the trees behind my building. In the other direction, the faint impression of an early moon was rising in the pale blue sky.
I’m grateful for my good fortune: when I look out my window, the world reminds me how beautiful it is.
Meanwhile, the world is on fire in California, under water in Spain, collapsing in Germany, convulsing in Gaza, . . .
And yet, somehow, we find joy. Or joy finds us. We find meaning. Or meaning finds us.
We find each other. We find our humanity in one another. We realize our spirituality in relationship with one another. And, if we like, we can enliven one another by glorifying the One supreme spiritual constant who sustains us, connects us, and invites us to participate in a state of pure consciousness that shrinks the ocean of worldly sorrows down to a puddle that’s no bigger than the size of a calf’s hoof print.
This, too, shall pass.
Wishing you all good fortune,
– Hari-k