Messily Responding to our Ailing World
I have food in my belly, I live in a safe home, and my family is safe. Yet I am struggling and juggling... To do what I can to try to save a wetlands from development. To call government representatives to stand up for a permanent ceasefire in Gaza. To hold meetings to support people in my community who are heavy hearted and tired from caring so much. To support the youth I know who care and struggle too.
I am juggling... To try to balance all of this. To do more. To also rest more. To do less. To not run myself into the ground as I try to help. Because the need in the world continues to grow as this polycrisis intensifies, and I want to be able to engage in change-work for the rest of my life. Because I’m no longer willing to have burnout be a regular part of my work. (If you ponder the question of doing more or doing less, check out my article from Permaculture Design Magazine.)
I am struggling... To have something thoughtful and possibly helpful to offer to others who are also struggling in their care, who are also juggling with limited energy or resources. Because I’m guessing your heart is heavy and aching—and I want you to know that you are not alone.
So, after another week of physically doing too much, in yet another moment of mentally spinning in circles, I am inviting myself... To breathe slowly. To sense/imagine the breath in my belly. To sense/imagine my feet connecting with the Earth below. To acknowledge my feelings of exhaustion, discouragement, grief, and/or anger. To honour my deep care. To remember the greater purpose of the work that exhausted me recently. And to realign with my deeper purpose for tomorrow’s work.
If you are feeling similarly, I invite you to take a few moments to do that for yourself too. Please be extra gentle with yourself.
Significant parts of our world are dying, rebirthing, unravelling, and/or unfolding. You and I are part of this process. Our well-being matters. Our communities matter. Our participation matters.
While I think engaging in our communities is of utmost importance, I would also encourage us to pay attention to how we each show up. What state am I in? How do I feel? Does being of service fill me or drain me? Do I find joy and inspiration in this work? Could I keep this up for months or years? If not, what could I change in my approach?
We’re trying to figure out how to live—and even make a contribution—in the midst of collective change and upheaval. It’s a lot to figure out.
When we’re overwhelmed, it can help us to simply do our best now. Our best today might be to bear witness to destruction and injustice in our world. Or, tending our own aching hearts might be the most we can do in this moment. Or, when we are more resourced again, we might extend ourselves to assist others.
In whatever ways you show up, I thank you for caring and for being there.
This moment is a new moment. We breathe again. We ground ourselves again in our purpose: to protect and honour life, to create a liveable future, to cherish all that nourishes us. We breathe gently and we continue.
For more inspiration, check out our conversation hosted by Good Grief Network.
For more support, check out our Rest of Activism program.
To celebrate our launch, receive 50% off your membership, by entering the discount code: BONITA50