Chest deep in the Atlantic, feet grounded in the sand, I am focused, a little nervous, excited. The waves are powerful and relentless but I keep turning toward them and diving straight in. Over and over.
"I got this," I think. "This is like living in our country right now. It's relentless and we just have to keep looking straight at it and keep diving in."
“Aren't I brave and strong and clever?” I think. “I'll write an essay. It will inspire people. It will be great. We'll keep diving in together!”
Then a wave towers up and starts breaking sooner than the others. I am caught in between and hesitate, unsure when and where to leap. I duck under but too late. The water rushes my legs out from under me and sucks me backwards. I find my feet only to see another wave breaking too soon, too high, too fast. It wipes me out again.
Breathless and scared, I get to shallower water. I don't want to get out of the water, but I need to get my bearings. Watching the waves from this safer distance, I can barely believe I'd been swimming in any of it at all.
For months, I've been counseling people to limit news consumption and to focus on local action. Don't just spin in the awful. Bring your energy to what you can do. Connect with other people. Literally or figuratively join hands with them.
My first invitation to those stepping into activism is to answer these three anchoring questions *:
What is good, beautiful and working?
Who or what are you willing to stand up for, clasp hands with, and work for?
What is your superpower? What do you do well and with joy?
But here I am traveling on a tropical island and I've wandered away not just from home but from these anchoring questions, from the very advice that I disperse. I keep diving into the news over and over, I keep looking at the big, national, global picture and getting wrapped around the axle of my helplessness. I get whipped into a lather of fury and fear about sh*t that I cannot do one. single. thing. about. And I feel alone.
By not following my own advice, I have whipped my own legs out from under me. I've created my own dangerous, ugly riptide on this beautiful island of flowers, fan palms, and tiny, sweet bananas.
After grump-tramping my way through a hike one morning, I dive into the turquoise sea. Its salty warmth literally buoys me. I feel myself start to soften by taking in what is good and beautiful. As soon as I look, it’s everywhere.
Instead of going back to the news, I meditate in the cool of the afternoon. I draw for a while: a palm tree, a lizard. I make a pattern of crabs and stones and fish. I play around with drawing hands holding each other.
These are difficult day, no question. Keep checking in with yourself: are you in your body? Is your mind spinning? Is your stomach (or jaw or shoulders or stomach or hands) clenched? Keep finding your feet. Keep coming back to yourself. It’s the only way out of the riptide.
It sucks to feel so scared. My anger can literally take my breath away. I have to remind myself, over and over, to extend my exhale, to not gobble the news, to see what else is around me. And there it is: a huge sweeping rainbow. And a bright green lizard. And a tiny banana, as sweet as can be.
* More on those three anchoring questions:
1. What is good, beautiful and working?
This question grounds us in the full vision of the world. It is a terrible, cruel mess, yes. And everywhere, always, there are good, beautiful things. People who are helping and working to take care of those who are suffering. In order to proceed with calm, centered and clarity, we need to be able to see all of it.
2. Who or what are you willing to stand up for, clasp hands with, and work for?
This question helps narrow our focus to align precisely with our values. I can care about lots of things but in order to use my time, energy and money wisely, I need to focus on just a few. I can’t do everything. I can’t even do a lot of things well. This question targets our efforts.
3. What is your superpower? What do you do well and with joy?
This question identifies what you can do that will make the most impact on the world. Twentieth century philosopher and theologian, Howard Thurman said, “Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” When we are frightened and desperate, we can find our selves agreeing to do work that deadens us because we think it’s what’s needed. I’ve done it so many times. But what really makes a difference, what really makes positive change and the world a better place is you doing what makes you light up. Go. Do. That.