Doing what you can, where you are

How do I manage when the world news is filled with things about which I can do nothing — or very little.

Overwhelming grief and suffering and hate on the big screen. The obvious answer asks a question: “What can I do something about?” Does that seem like a dot in this vast universe? Maybe it is — but it's my dot; the dot that is my life — and if I look closely I see it is actually many dots. My work is to connect them.

The first thing I can do is visit my state of mind. What's in there? Is it shades of the same nasty stuff I see in the larger world — the one I cannot control. It is a fountain of arrogance to expect others to respond in better ways, when I myself cannot. I am reminded of the strong warning Jesus spoke to His listeners for even calling a fellow human being a “fool.” And that's practically polite in today's diatribes. 

I can reach out to the needs around me. Is someone grieving? Does anybody have “too much month at the end of the money?” Is there someone scared, or depressed, or angry, or alone? I can find these people and connect with them. Comfort, I have found, is people shaped. It fits whoever receives it. 

Something I focused on today is being thankful. What a waste — when others are suffering, when they have nothing — for me to pass through my day without being grateful for what I have. To not notice the water I can run, the food spilling from the cupboard. A 12-year-old grand called this afternoon, excited about a robin's nest she found in the backyard. This is her peaceful world. Can I be thankful this is so.

For me, my thanks is offered to God — as the giver. I thanked Him for a crisp morning walk, with the tamaracks in their yellow robes making a choir on the mountainside. The sunset was spectacular; the sky a blazing blanket of thick pink orange clouds. A daughter called, thrilled about her new website advertising her start-up business. A friend rode up on his ATV for a simple chat. The gratitude balance is weighted every day, if I will just see it — the nuggets and the flakes.

Connecting the dots in my life. Finding the people, spreading the kindness, doing an in-house deep clean, sharing the goodness — serving where I can, radiating gratitude. These are things I can do with my dot — my life in the places I live it.

I am not in some other spot — I am here, right now. Doing what I can do — even as there are many things I wish I could do for those I hear of in other places. I cannot lose my dot amid the world's unrest. I cannot let it roll away from me. I have to live my life where I am — in the best way I can. I have to stick my dot.