I am the fiery life of the essence of God; I am the flame above the beauty in the fields; I shine in the waters; I burn in the sun, the moon, and the stars. And with the airy wind, I quicken all things vitally by an unseen, all-sustaining life.”
― Hildegard of Bingen
Today, this morning, I can feel the fear and the hope of humanity. Calling out in equal measure. The voices are loud. Even up here in this quiet place.
Millions of voices, hearts and minds. I hear them in the towns and the cities, in the villages, the fields and in the desert. Deep in the forests and from the mountaintops. All over this blue planet we call Home. Spinning in space, I swear our voices can be heard across the Cosmos.
The calls of victory and defeat. Shock, despair, frustration. Pride, joy, love, hate, surprise. Grief, disgust, shame, indignation, wonder. Togetherness. You can taste it in the air. The full and extraordinary remit of the human emotional spectrum is here, right now, on display and amplified for all of us to see.
And yet, most of all, what I feel is movement. That sense of rocking back and forth until you make the jump or you are pushed. My hands get sweaty and I feel alive in the darkness. It doesn't feel good, but it doesn't feel bad either. I know what that feeling is. It's electric. It's anticipation. It's desire. An overwhelming desire for change. Evolution.
If you listen carefully, you can almost hear the drums calling for it. It's our tribal nature. Dividing us and bringing us together. Both, at the same time.
This change is wanted by all tribes. You can see it in our desire to return to a nostalgic past or for things to just-stay-the-same. You can see it in the dystopian nightmares we see on screen. It is there in our desire to build a better future for our children or create a euphoric utopian dream. Whatever it looks like to you, this change is wanted. We all want it.
Why? Because in the end we humans live, or we die. In the grand scheme of deep time, odds are we will have the answer, either way, pretty soon. And that's pretty scary. That's something to be afraid of. It's the thing most of us are afraid of the most. In the end.
There are a thousand things we could choose to do. Sign our name on one of a million petitions, switch on the television or read a newspaper, take to the streets, run away to the circus. Or simply go back to bed and wait until it's all over. But this won't be over. It won't pass by quietly. Most things I could do seem pretty out of reach or pointless to me. A click here, a signature there. We watch it, over and over again and we detach from it.
Even a vote in the ballot box feels pretty Meh right now. You win some, you loose some. Of course we do things we think will help, lots of little things that make bigger things. And all of this is good. But this thing, this thing asks for more. From everyone.
Nobody else is going to fix this for you. There is no knight on a white horse. There is no mysterious, as yet unidentified social/political/environmental/religious/cultural superhero waiting in the wings ready to jump on stage and shout "Ta dah! I got this."
So I resolve to do something in my power to do. I resolve not to let fear get the last word. For it not to get me and stop me in my tracks. Or make me miss the present moment. I resolve to do the work I am here to do. And do more of it. And to keep doing it.
To bring together the tribes of Humanity by whatever means necessary and to honour and respect our differences and our diversity. Even when we don't agree or like each other all that much.
I resolve to wake up, rise up and stand into grace.
Written in the mountains on November 12, 2016 on a clear, blue day after a storm.