This past weekend I attended the No Kings Rally to peacefully express my sacred First Amendment right to disagree with the current wanna-be authoritarian regime.
My energy was low, tamped down from a background of unexpressed sadness, weariness, and resentment. Yes, resentment that I still have to be spending my precious time defending what we have always taken for granted in this country — democracy, freedom, and individual rights. (A victim mentality, I know.) When it was over, all the joints in my body ached.
And yet, I showed up. I brought loved ones with me who might not have marched otherwise. I marched. I chanted. I dressed in yellow and raised my sign high. In my ho-hum, low enthusiasm funk, it seemed to me like the march had not attracted as many people as previous marches. What a delightful surprise to get home and read the reports of record breaking attendance—not only in my hometown, but also across the country and even globally! Reports of 7-8 million people peacefully and nonviolently saying, “No, this abuse of power is not who we are!”
And that is how it goes with activism, and Sacred Activism is no different. We have days when we are pumped up, full of motivation, energized by the belief that our presence is making a difference. These are the days when we are connected with our inner freedom. And then there are days we have to get up and get moving and act even when we don’t particularly feel like it. These are the days when our inner negativity holds us captive in a prison of our own making. These are the days when we have lost our freedom, regardless of what is happening in the world.
Even when I have those days when my energy and enthusiasm are muted by that very quiet but very powerful negative voice that tries to make me believe that I don’t make a difference, I don’t have any real power, and all of life is meaningless and cruel, I no longer really believe that voice. I have learned to listen to it as if listening to a small child whining about whatever they don’t like, and expecting someone else to fix it. I listen, and then I remind myself that feelings aren’t facts and my inner negativity is nothing but a gateway to healing, transformation and liberation if I listen deeply and compassionately enough.
This up and down rollercoaster of emotions is not only part of activism, it is also part of the human and the spiritual journey. Sometimes we have clarity and fearlessness, and other times we must rely solely on faith and the memory of clarity and fearlessness. We may not know exactly what the outcome will be, but when our commitment to living from love is strong enough we act anyway. We may take time for some self-care, but we return to action because we choose to take responsibility for our experience of this one wild and precious life, without making that choice conditional on the outcome. This is how we return to our inner freedom.
Many people say they march so their children and grandchildren will have a better life. That is true for me as well, but I also know that if I had no children I would still be out there marching. Because I love Life. Because Love calls me. Because I’d rather be true to my deepest values than be part of some ridiculously and callously false illusion that I deserve to benefit more than others because I am somehow more worthy than they are.
Our tendency to sometimes fall into negativity is why we do this work in community. When any one of us isn’t connected to our inner freedom, the crowds of people marching and/or working shoulder to shoulder with us remind us that we are not alone. We are powerful. We are brave. We are free. We are capable of moving mountains. It may not be easy, it may not be quick, but together we can create a more compassionate, equitable world that recognizes the sacred in all beings.
So at least for today, I do not feel resentful at having to devote a chunk of my time to serving the beautiful longing for freedom. I feel honored. I feel incredibly fortunate. Today I am willing to pay the price, both on the outer and inner levels, to experience the freedom that is my birthright. So I will continue to march and protest and vote to sustain freedoms on the outer level, and I will continue to make space to lovingly and gently march through my inner terrain to transform the negativity that wants to obstruct what is always and already here—my inner liberation and my connection to the Divine.
Have you had moments of weariness? Of doubt?
Of hopelessness?
I will leave you with the words of Leonard Cohen, with a prayer that it may help you meet those moments as gateways to your own inner liberation:
“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”
So get out there, and ring that bell of freedom, on the outer as well as the inner level. It is not going to ring itself!
