The other day on Threads I started a thread. In the first post I said “I can’t change or fix everything but I can do my laundry” with a photo of clothing going into the washer. The next “I can’t change or fix everything but I can cook food for the people I love” with a photo of a pot of stew. Another “I can’t change or fix everything but I can sharpen my pencils” with a photo of a row of freshly sharpened pencils. 

This thread wasn’t meant to be trite or simplistic. It’s not meant to dull the rage or the terror. It’s not meant to put a bandaid on a very bad situation. Instead it’s my fundamental reminder of what matters. 

In all of my years of religious and other leadership, of activism, of art I have learned vital lessons. I cannot fix everything but I can (and I must) do something. 

Doing something, for me, often starts at home. Making sure I’m drinking enough water, getting enough sleep, not scrolling for hours a day, eating good food, making sure I have clean clothing and the house is tidied up. Those sound like insignificant things, but I know when those things are taken care of I am able to think more clearly, make better decisions, and be more present to the people around me. 

Once I get my own house in order, then I start to look outward: What are the things I can do nearest to home? Who needs to be encouraged? Protected? Fed? Funded? Who is already organizing on the things I care about and can I join them? Who is speaking that I need to listen to and learn from? Where are the places in my thinking that need to be deepened or sharpened and how can I do that? 

It’s not about the grand gesture. It’s about what’s sustainable over time. 

I cannot be immobilized. I cannot be silent. I cannot be passive. I cannot wait to be saved. I simply cannot. 

I can feel grief and terror and rage (and probably do and will and should). But I cannot be immobilized. 

I’ve realized that doing something will look different for each person depending on our privilege, on our skills, on our temperament. 

Here are some things that I know work for me and that I have seen work for others over the years:

• I need a community. In person. Online friends and community are amazing, but I also need people where I am. Doesn’t have to be a lot of people, could honestly just start with one person, but I need someone I can be with face to face at least sometimes.
• I need practices to lean on. Journaling, meditation, prayer, whatever practices fuel me. In times where I haven’t had any or they were rusty or stale, I need to find new ones or restart old ones. It’s be vital to keeping me engaged for the long haul.
• Pick something to focus on. A cause. An issue. I cannot do everything. I will not succeed. So pick one thing to be passionate about. Learn all I can and start contributing however I can.
• Before I start something (and this includes a new list or spreadsheet, a new community, a new whatever) see what’s already being done. I’m often surprised at how often there are already people who are not only doing the work but have been doing it for a very long time. Before starting something new, see if I can invest in what’s already in existence. It will make everyone stronger.
• There IS a chance that I might find the thing I’m looking for doesn’t exist. Or doesn’t exist where I am. Before giving in to despair or giving up, realize I might need to start something. Doesn’t have to be official or big or extravagant. Find one friend and start to meet the need.

If everyone did something; something concrete, something real, something in the place where they live, we’d be much better off. Now is not a time to retreat. It’s not the time to lose myself in despair. It’s not the time to shrug my shoulders and throw up my hands. Now is the time to get to work. Or get back to work. 

It’s time to dream of new structures, new ways of being, new ways of doing that will protect the most vulnerable among us. I do not have the luxury to rely on the old ways of doing things. Nor do I have the luxury of sitting this one out. It’s all hands on deck. 

And, I tell myself, it starts at home. Get your house in order (literally and figuratively). Eat good food. Drink water. Move your body. Tend to your practices. Wash your face and your clothes. 

Then pick something to get involved in. Something concrete and local. Something that connects you to other people doing the work. 

This is how I save myself. This is how I save others. This is how we get free.