I feel the profound paradox of this moment in time.
The living Earth is in crisis. Forests are burning, waters are rising, species are disappearing, and the rhythms of the seasons are becoming less familiar. Yet many of us continue as though nothing fundamental is changing. We turn away, distract ourselves, or remain caught in systems that depend upon endless consumption.
And still, within this same moment, I feel the excitement of creating and imagining a future that is still possible.
The Buddha taught that greed, hatred, and delusion are the roots of suffering. We can see these forces moving through our world: greed that treats the Earth as an unlimited resource, hatred that divides us from one another, and delusion that allows us to believe we are separate from the living systems that sustain us.
Yet these forces are not the whole truth of who we are. Within us also lives generosity, compassion, wisdom, courage, and love. We possess the capacity to awaken from denial, remember our belonging to the Earth, and create ways of living connected in reciprocity and care.
Another future is still possible and it will not be created through vision alone.
Some time ago, during the pandemic, I gave a talk about grounding in uncertainty. I find myself returning to that teaching now and asking: What does it mean to be grounded when the ground itself seems to be shifting beneath us? It means learning to meet life without abandoning ourselves, one another, or our Beloved Earth.
This is the heart of upekkhā (equanimity), the balanced heart born from wisdom without a sense of indifference or withdrawal. It is the capacity to remain fully present with life as it is: to feel grief without being consumed by it, to respond to suffering without needing to control every outcome, and to act with love even when we cannot be certain where our actions will lead.
My late beloved mentor and teacher Angeles Arrien shared an Inuit saying that has remained with me: “There is my plan, and there is the Mystery’s plan.”
This wise saying reminds us that our plans exist within conditions far greater than ourselves, and that we can still engage with life and cherish what is precious without relinquishing our responsibility. We still confront greed, hatred, and delusion. And, we release the belief that we must know exactly how everything will unfold before we take the next wise and compassionate step.
Recently, I received a photograph of an auntie walking along the beach with her young niece and nephew as the sun was setting. They were simply taking in the moment together. The ocean, the sunlight changing, the open sky, and the warmth of one another’s presence.
As I looked at the photograph, I felt muditā (appreciative joy) arise within me. The heart’s natural delight in the joy of others. Their happiness became my happiness. Their shared moment reminded me of the preciousness of this life and how easily we can miss it when we are distracted, rushing, or waiting for life to become something other than what it is.
The photograph held such joy and beauty. An auntie and two children walking together beside the ocean while the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. Even amidst the uncertainty and suffering of our world, this simple moment reminds us why life, as difficult as it can be, is worth loving. Joy reveals what matters: the nourishment of children walking joyously beside the ocean, of an auntie sharing her loving presence, of generations belonging to one another, still capable of wonder, awe, and aliveness together.
In moments like these lies the paradox: We must face reality honestly without surrendering our capacity to dream. We must grieve what is being lost while cherishing what remains alive. We must acknowledge the suffering in our hearts, while cultivating a vision spacious enough to hold a different future.
Life is sacred, and nothing about it is permanent. It is fragile, fleeting, and yet deeply interconnected. Every breath is shared with forests and oceans. Every life depends upon countless seen and unseen beings. To value life is to recognize that none of us exists alone.
I do not want to turn away from the truth of this time. Nor do I want crisis to become the only story we tell. Another future is still possible and it will not be created through vision alone. It will emerge through the daily moments we experience, the relationships we cultivate, the systems we transform, and the ways of harm and separation we refuse to normalize.
A world guided by love, mutual care, reverence for our Beloved Earth, and the understanding that liberation must include all beings, will require a deeper trust in our shared humanity and capacity to awaken and respond while remaining in relationship with life. This deeper trust and grounding comes from directly seeing the nature of reality as it is. It is here that we honor the preciousness of both sorrow and joy… and when the beauty of it all appears before us, perhaps our practice is simply not to miss it.
This article was originally published in Braided Wisdom‘s summer newsletter. It is reprinted here with permission.
