Leading with Love, Instead of Change (A Reframe in Hopeless Times)
“Justice is what love looks like in public.” – Dr. Cornel West
As I was scrolling Instagram a couple days ago, I came across this quote from author Sarah Bessey:
I am less hopeful about changing the world now.
I am, however, more hopeful about actually loving the world.
And, even when I’m not hopeful at all, I am committed to tending to this world as if everything, every one is a universe worthy of love.
Every week I hear from folks who receive this newsletter – and others throughout my life – about the feeling of hopelessness that pervades so much right now; the exhaustion that comes from surviving the doom-loop we seem to be living in; the questioning and the doubt that emerges with not knowing what to do, what not to do, what works, and what doesn't.
There's just so much, so fast, so everywhere.
And even though I've shared again and again my belief and commitment to making gentle change and getting started with small steps – even that can feel obliteratingly difficult when faced with this feeling of hopelessness.
Just about every action feels woefully inadequate to the circumstance of our current experience.
Which is why I really appreciated this:
I shared the above quote with a friend and a soft smile came across her face as she said: "Of course! Because any change we make is a byproduct anyways. We can love; change is what then becomes possible."
Any positive change we make is a byproduct of how we love.
So, in case a reframe is helpful, I invite you to momentarily lay aside desires for large-scale change and for fixing problems; to put down any "I should's..." or "I need to's...;" and instead to consider:
How might you tend to the world around you?
How might you join others in the tending?
How can you love the folks around you?
What actions can you take to honor that every one is a universe worthy of love?
As her words reminded me, love has this fun little tendency to lead to change. For the ones who embody it, the ones who receive it, the ones who witness it, and even the ones who defend against it.
And so, as we watch the terror of what is happening in our country and we feel that hopelessness creep (and sometimes rush) through our bodies, perhaps we d0n't need to pretend as if we alone (or even our small little communities) can change the world.
Instead: how can we love our world and each other more deeply and more honestly so that change becomes possible?
