Where Do I Go From Here?
Last February, I was lucky to attend the OnBeing gathering. It was beautiful but also really hard to spend 3 days in deep inquiry. It inspired this poem.
Where do I go from here?
My heart is open. My heart is sore.
Change takes decades the elders tell us.
This is not their first rodeo.
But what of climate change? I ask.
We don’t have decades, surely that work won’t take decades, can’t take decades.
But perhaps it will.
In between bites of breakfast, each other’s company is a small but welcome comfort.
The wisest of them all cannot answer me, he cannot comfort me and tell me how we’ll avoid the worst.
I need an answer. There is no answer.
A new friend says it’s ok to be uncomfortable.
I really don’t like that idea — I like certainty, and my expectations to be met.
I am always in control.
On Saturday I was full of light but on Sunday, I am deeply sad.
And then I read Krista’s words in my notebook: we must insist on joy.
Joy at the cosmic accident that created all of this and all of us.
Joy at the wonder of the world, and the beauty in every living being.
I look up and I feel joy and pain and love and hurt.
Can I stay uncomfortable? Can I keep asking questions? Can I open my heart even when it hurts?
There are no answers but there are some directions for the path to take:
Be curious and find others who are as well,
Get closer to the pain and seek to understand,
Ask better questions,
Stay uncomfortable.
