“I am because we are.” – African philosophy
A few weeks ago, I went “primitive camping.” We were in the middle of nowhere with no formal campgrounds or facilities – just a shovel to make a bathroom, our tents, and some bug spray. With absolutely zero light pollution, it was one of the brightest nights I’ve ever experienced. The moon shone in all its glory and the stars twinkled and danced in a way I had never seen before. Being in nature with the sound of coyotes in the distance and critters crawling nearby reminded me how there’s a connecting fabric between all things. We are tied to each other – people and the planet – in a way we don’t truly comprehend. It’s only our false notions of separateness that divide us.
Every ancient philosophy from Buddhism to Judeo-Christianity to the yogic texts talk about this interdependence. We are not meant to live life alone or as man versus the wild. And yet, in the West, we live in a highly industrialized society where we are rewarded, in many ways, for considering the “I” over the “we.” Somewhere in our history, we idealized rugged individualism over the collective good and now suffer from isolation and disturbing levels of loneliness – one of the most harmful diseases of our time.
Add to that COVID, racial justice tensions, and one of the most vitriolic Presidential campaigns I have ever witnessed and we have 2020.
So what do we do? How do we stay grounded? Connected to each other and to Mother Earth? How do we survive with so much chaos and confusion?
I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I was reminded that 2020 is like every other year: there are highs and lows, beauty and darkness, tragedy and triumph. But unlike other years in recent history, we are being forced to consider something we don’t embody well:
Survival and staying connected require things we can’t quite measure: faith, hope, and love.
I’m not talking about the faith, hope, and love we read about in stories with happy endings or the songs we sing that make us feel warm and fuzzy. I mean the down and dirty, gritty kind that enables us to keep going after the craziest of tragedies. The kind that gives us the compassion to hold someone’s hand while they’re dying. Or forgive because we don’t want to be a prisoner to our own resentment.
The kind that believes in Ubuntu: there is no me without you, there’s just us.
I believe the measure of our humanity will be weighed by how much we embrace the “we” over “me” in this season. How we stand up for the oppressed, for the planet, for the poor and marginalized. The degree we’re willing to sacrifice minor comforts for a greater good. A willingness to stand up to bullying at every level of power. A resilience that empowers us to fight for truth, justice, equality, and decency. And certainly the protection of the democracy we hold so dear.
The kind of faith, hope, and love that knows there is something around the corner to look forward to. Dawn always comes and brings with it a new morning, a new day, a new opportunity to practice togetherness. While it might be the only thing we can be sure of, it’s something we can cling to vigorously – something we can be grateful for.
And here’s the truth, dear friends – when we survive 2020, we’ll realize that we can survive anything. We’re going to make Gloria Gaynor proud, and we can do it together.
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Inspiration for this post:
- Unlocking Us: Brené with Bishop Michael Curryon Love & Hope in Troubling Times
- The Tim Ferriss Show: Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks on Powerful Books, Mystics, Richard Dawkins, and the Dangers of Safe Spaces
[Photo: Getting snacks out of the back of my truck while camping in the desert]