I’d like to begin with some good news: Some of you may have heard that the Standing Rock Sioux tribe in North Dakota recently had a huge victory. The federal government deemed the building of an oil pipeline which was approved by the Army Corp of Engineers, unconstitutional. The Dakota Access Pipeline, which failed to adhere to the National Environmental Policy Act was shut down. Many of you know Jennifer and I were there in North Dakota, and I know many of you followed this or who had close friends or family who had ties to that area. Of course victories can be quickly overturned, but when something good happens, it’s worth celebrating. I remember being told by some of my fellow Americans that my bearing witness there was a lost cause – that business in partnership with the government would always prevail. Oddly that encouraged me. I thought to myself: if this is indeed a lost cause, it’s even more important that we show up, because losses are hard to bear. So it was with great joy and a bit of surprise I received this news this week.
It’s been quite a week. It’s been quite a few weeks. For me, sometimes it has felt like 6 months, but I’ve talked with many people this week that have widened my perspective. Some of you are really appreciating this time. You are able to slow down, not work as much while still maintaining your salary. You have enough food stocked, you’re able to order take out and support local restaurants. I’ve spoken with many who daily are enjoying being outside, and enjoying Spring weather. When I’ve spoken with those who feel they can appreciate and welcome this opportunity to slow down and discover what is already here, it makes me feel good. I of course have spoken with those who are now unemployed. The unemployment website crashes on them because of the overwhelm of requests. I’ve spoken with a few of you who are ill, not necessarily with COVID, but who feel worn out by stress. I’ve spoken to some who know of someone who is quite ill, and a few who have relatives, close friends, lovers die because of this pandemic. I’ve spoken with those who are feeding their families purely on school lunches, and who have even more trouble accessing a grocery store now that the bus lines have been shut down.
So when people ask me how I am during this time, I find I usually take a pause. In my personal life, I am healthy, I am not in the vulnerable risk category. Thanks to your continued generosity, I still have employment. I do enjoy going for walks in the park, and I’m grateful to have enough food to eat without worrying about going hungry. But as I’ve said many times before, I don’t believe in a personal life, at least in the way we too often understand it.. My life is also yours. So when I talk with those who are feeling more purposeful, grateful to slow down, and enjoy the basic goodness of Spring, it makes me feel glad. When I talk with those who are experiencing loss, fear, and uncertainty, I also feel this as part of my life. Though I will never be able to fully appreciate any one individual’s life and experience, I’ve come to recognize that this too is part of my life, whether I fully understand it or not. There are no bounds to how far and deep love can go. It is very wide. I’m learning this during this time.
I know I am telling you all something that you all know now personally from firsthand experience. Our life is never confined to our personal situation. Your life is my life. Your life is the life of someone in Italy, someone in China, someone down the street. Our life is not limited to our inner circle, it’s not limited to who we like or who we don’t. It’s not even limited to people we know. Our time is not bound by our geography. Technology is teaching us this. In the most strange way, our life is not even limited by time. Our life is also the life of all those who come after, all because of our intentions and actions today.
Maybe in the past this might’ve sounded like spiritual jargon or something poetic. But it seems now to be an actual truth. We are seeing paradoxically by being apart, that our life can not and will not be limited by our own limiting ideas of who we think we are and who our lives really belong to. What I’ve been most compelled by this week, is that regardless of circumstances, each person has told me in their own way they sense there is something significant about this time, even if they don’t know what it is. People who are really enjoying this time have told me this. People who are suffering and in great pain have told me this. My response to this has been the same: let’s not leave the meaning of this time completely up to chance.
As a people understandably we are trying to get our bearings in a time that is changing rapidly. It would make sense at first that we would feel in a state of reacting to the daily occurrences that have now touched the lives of each one of us across our world. What a gift that is: to be in a shared predicament. Perhaps this has always been the case, but now we know it, personally. Your predicament is mine. It would be tempting to allow circumstances to mould us in random ways. It is tempting to hypothesize in trepidation: maybe this will mean people will fear going to a movie or fear going to a concert when this is over. As if we needed more reasons to be afraid after years of terrible gun violence. It would be tempting to allow circumstances to make us smaller, more fearful people. Or maybe the circumstances will make us wiser, gentler, more patient and attentive. Regardless, I don’t think we should leave this completely up to chance.
My sense is even beyond this particular pandemic we will receive more reminders that our life is not personal in the way we may have always imagined. My life is also my neighbor’s life. My life is the life of this planet. My life is the life of a generation I will never meet. What do we do with that information? That is up to us. It depends on whether we decide to live our life with a new or deeper sense of intention.
Some of you have repeated back to me something I’ve said before. I’ve said: This is the best time in American history to be alive. I believe this even more firmly today. We are in a precarious time, a vulnerable, unstable time. The pillars we’ve come to rely on – economic, political and social are cracking and showing how malleable they are. We see how vulnerable our earth is. We appreciate how vulnerable our brief human life is, and we are discovering just how much we really love one another and want each one of us to be well. At any other point in American history, this would be a feel good message, but ultimately an optional one. There was business to do, ambitions to be realized, busy, important stuff that needed busy, important people. Now we are waking up. What could be more important than taking care of one another? What could be more important than taking care of ourselves and taking care of our earth? We are learning that these are not two separate things. They are the same thing. We are our neighbor, and we are the earth. Taking care of one takes care of the other. Poisoning and mistreating one, poisons and mistreats ourselves.
So I’m using this time to see how wide my life can go as I mostly stay inside my house. I am deeply appreciating those who are experiencing this time as a breath of fresh air, a relief from the daily grind, a time to tend to what nurtures and brings joy. I am appreciating opening myself to those who are in ill health, those who are afraid for their friends and loved ones.
I am able to open myself to those who are making and eating delicious, healthy meals. I open to those who finally have the time to cook and taste their food, rather than always rushing out the door. I find myself compelled to open up to the children and families who are hungry, and who are waiting day by day to see if there will be relief. I find life open to those who are unemployed, some who are oddly relieved and finding newfound purpose, and those who are fearful and uncertain. For me, that is what love is. Love is an expanding of ourselves. It is an expansion that has no end. Love is open to joy as well as pain, hope as well as despair, victory as well as defeat. All of this is our true life, as wide and deep as we intend it to be.
Living a life with intention doesn’t mean you will never feel grief or pain. It doesn’t mean that everyday will be exactly how you would want it to be. All it means is we give ourselves a map, a path, of how we hope to navigate what happens to us. This doesn’t mean that we’ll always succeed in staying true to our intention. In fact, I don’t think that is really the point. Perfection is not the goal. Integrity is. Wholeness. We allow ourselves to fail because that failure is not personal – it belongs to all of us, it belongs to our world. But our commitment to live with meaning, courage, and hope – these values also are not ours. It belongs to all of us. It belongs to our world.
I am so grateful to be alive during this transformative time in world history. It is a great honor, and many days a pleasure to open my life more and more through knowing you. It is a great practice for someone like me. When I’m feeling down, opening up to others makes me realize I am never alone, and in that togetherness love is found. When I’m feeling joyful, it makes my joy greater to share it with a world that has no limit. Living with intention means I know my life is not limited to my personal biography and circumstances at this moment. Living with intention means that we have hope for the kind of person we may become and the kind of people we may become together. It’s not left completely up to chance.
What are your intentions for your life during this time? Do those intentions end after the pandemic is over, or do you see them continuing to guide you? Please think about this, and I would love to hear your thoughts during the talk back.
