Today has been a weird day – a study of contrasts of sorts. For me, the day began as it normally does – in prayer. Then a friend and I set out on an art adventure. On both of our minds were the ongoing protests in Los Angeles, along with the “No Kings” protests scheduled all around the country for today – purposefully to coincide with the “Big Beautiful Birthday Parade.” Our shared hope was that the protests be peaceful and the protestors safe. Equally, we voiced our concerns over the state of our nation – the threats to our freedoms, along with the failing system of checks and balances that we were taught were supposed to protect these freedoms.

We are living in uncertain times – times that trigger our fears and appropriately incite our righteous anger. The temptation to react to these triggers through violence is strong. A fire burns within us in the face of injustices being done to our fellow human beings, especially the most vulnerable among us. And yet, violence only begets more violence and burning with hatred solves nothing. Instead, we are invited to seek a different path.

For me, the path has always been quiet, solitary, and non-violent. As an introvert, you will never find me at a protest. Neither will you find me inciting violence against the perceived “other.” Even today, in light of the political assassinations in my own hometown of Minneapolis, I cannot feel hatred toward the assassin. I can only feel deep sorrow for one who is so broken to believe this was the right and appropriate thing to do. Further, my prayers go out to the deceased, their families, and friends.

Our nation is profoundly broken. The easy thing is to choose sides, hating on one while celebrating the other. Out of our instinctual need to feel safe, we might spiral into anticipatory planning – imagining every possible scenario while planning our response. In our need to control, we may believe that taking action is the best response including reacting to every trigger thrown our way.

The reality is this mess is not going to resolve itself overnight. We cannot anticipate the direction this current unfolding of the American experiment will take. We cannot predict what the horse loose in the hospital will do or attempt to do. Really, all we can do is be present to this moment, wait, breathe, and watch. If we are called to respond, take action, speak out, etc., it is only in the present moment that the proper response will be revealed.

For me, this ongoing unfolding/unraveling of the “American Dream” has provided an opportunity for me to hone my practice of non-action as demonstrated in my call to simply be witness. Further, it has shown me over and over my tendency to want to control, change, or fix what I perceive to be disordered or wrong. This practice has carried over not only in relation to American politics, but also into my everyday life.

You see, I’m a recovering perfectionist. For sixty years, I believed it was my job to fix and change everything that (to me) appears to be wrong. With great moral certitude and an eye for judgment, I have spent my life with a gavel in one hand and my pen of righteousness in the other. With troubleshooting as a highly cultivated defense mechanism, resentment and self-righteousness have fueled my journey as I try to share my “gifts” and get met with a brick wall.

Oh yes, I could most definitely be right about what is wrong and I may even know how to fix it……but, is that really my job? Is that why I was put here, to “heal and save the world?” With the amount of resistance I’ve faced because of my “gifts,” I would say “probably not.”

It’s not my job to save the world. It’s not my job to save our nation. It’s not my job to fix what is broken or repair what has gone wrong. Instead, it is my job to cultivate my own peace while bearing witness to all that is happening before me, and to be here for those who might need support in cultivating their own peace in a world gone mad, or to provide comfort to those who find themselves in their own personal battles trying to get through this thing called life.

Life is hard enough without making every conflict our own. As much as it grieves me to admit this, I have found that when we allow things to unfold on their own, they tend to find their own resolution – the horse will one day either find its way out of the hospital or it will die trying.