by Rabbi Katy Z. Allen
I've been involved with climate action
for quite a few years now. I've heard scientists say we have a window
of a couple of years (this number of years having by now gone by); I've read articles
and books related to impending chaos and destruction of the planet and possible extinction of the human species as
a result of climate change; I've watched the parts per million of
carbon in the atmosphere rise way about the 350 limit from which 350.org took its name; and,
in recent years I've begun to realize that climate-change-caused chaos
is already happening, most notably the climate change roots of the
Syrian refugee crisis. And again and again, I've felt pain and grief for this planet,
often triggered by incidents close to home that are, relatively speaking benign, such as the leveling of
trees or whole lots near where I live, or even just discussing buying something new.
Every time I've experienced a bout of
fear and grief, I've eventually returned to the same place
emotionally and intellectually. Which is: I don't know what
the future brings. I cannot possibly know. But I do know, and I know this deep in my heart, that
whatever our future holds for us, it really matters HOW we go through
our days. It matters that we are doing something to try to combat
climate change. It matters that we speak out and that we act. It
matters that we work to reconcile our personal lives with our values
for a future sustainable planet. It matters that we build community
and connections to other people. It matters how we behave.
The same applies to the new reality of our nation.
I do not know if we are headed toward
dictatorship and the breakdown of the post-World War II world order.
I do not know if we are headed for massive loss of
rights and widespread violence. I do not know if we are headed toward the end of our
democracy. I do not know if we are headed for climate disaster. I do not know.
But I do know that it matters how we go
forward. I do know that digging deeper to try to go beyond our fear is
important. I do know that we need to be able to speak to our family
members and our neighbors. I do know that we need to work as hard as
we can to help our democracy survive. I do know that we need to
speak up for those more vulnerable than ourselves. I do know that it
is important to keep our hearts loving and compassionate, even when
we speak hard truths.
What does it take for us to maintain
loving kindness?
What does it take for us to be
courageous in our actions rather than to respond from a place of fear?
What does it take for us to maintain
compassion for those who are different from us?
What does it take for us to hold onto
faith?
For each of us, the journey is
different, but one thing is true for most (if not all) of us: we must take care of ourselves. In the midst of becoming more active and advocating more frequently, we sometimes need to stop and close our eyes and breathe. Perhaps we need to take time for prayer or meditation or silent
reflection. We may need to get outdoors to absorb the healing power
of the natural world. We may need to gather in community for song and
reflection. We may need to go to bed on time. We may need to run ten miles or climb the nearest mountain. Whatever our most basic physical and spiritual needs are, we must meet them. We must take care of ourselves,
because if we don't, we will burn out, and we cannot afford to let that happen. We must be able to remain vigilant
and active and aware for a very long time.
It is possible that no matter how hard
we work, no matter how much we protest and how many letters and phone
calls we make, no matter how much money we donate, that our nation
will fall apart. But we do not know, and so we must do this work. And we
must keep on doing it.
And no matter what
happens, if our hearts and our spirits remain strong, if our faith
and courage run deep, if our personal connections are filled with
love and caring, then on some important level, we will be OK. The world will not be OK, but we
will know that we have done everything we possibly could, and that is so very
important.
And so, we must take care of ourselves,
even when we are not sure how. We must dig deeper, we must learn more
about how to navigate through life, we must grow as human beings. That is the spiritual task before us.
And so, at those moments when you do not know
how you can keep going, may you find the strength, the courage, the
determination, and the love and compassion that you need. May you be blessed on your journey.
