All That You Can Do

It seems one can't look at the news without reeling from the shock of a fresh atrocity. The tragedy in Norway staggers the imagination. In Texas a man kills five people and himself at a skate party. In my hometown a man kills his children, their mother, and himself.

In the wake of such news, at first it seems almost trivial to put together a few words for this weekly blog. What can one say? Isn't this a moment in which silence better serves us?

Then I remember the healing power of meditation, and I sit with it so. I cannot take away the hurt of untold millions just by wishing it. I can be present, feeling some of the pain, and rising when I can to the lure of understanding, revelation, and transformation. With millions of others, I am witnessing and praying, abiding, and sending as much good intention as I possibly can into the world.

What else can one do? Tap into the grief that slowly moves like molten emotion deep inside. I am one with the blade of grass, the fly I release through the screen in the bathroom window, and the young man blown to pieces by an insane, random act of violence. I am the killer and the dead. I feel the rage of the survivor and I hear the cry for vengeance welling up inside me. I also hear my fellows the dead, who in an instant move far beyond the desire for vengeance.

What can one do? Be present. Be the healing power of equanimity and love. My activist-friend Jeff Golden's sign-off on radio and TV is "Thanks for doing all that you can do." That's it, really. Do that much. Just so.