I don’t know about you, but I find it increasingly difficult to make sense of the world, in light of the tragedies, injustices, wars, unkindnesses and dissension that fill our eyes and ears on a daily basis. I’ve tried being angry, being judgmental, feeling holier-than-thou, feeling hopeless, praying, raging, swearing and despairing. Not that all that seemed to be of much help.
Struggling to make sense of it all, I studied the words of a few individuals whom I admire, who seemed to find profound meaning in their lives, even amid tremendous personal difficulties.
First, I happened across some words written by Henry David Thoreau, one of the leaders of the Transcendentalism Movement that began in New England in the 1820s. That movement based its beliefs on the inherent goodness of all human beings. Thoreau, for instance, saw “God” (or “Good”) in every bit of life.
When I say every bit: Thoreau studied nature in minute detail. Each leaf, each acorn, each strand of moss had meaning to him. As he lay dying at the age of forty-four, he wrote: “The question is not what you look at, but what you see.”
Next, I turned to one of the greatest heroes of my lifetime, the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr., who believed, like Thoreau, in the inherent goodness of all human beings. King, as you know, had more reason than most of us will ever have to doubt that belief. I’m sure there were many moments, many days, when he did waver. Yet he continued earnestly in his quest to love his enemies— or, as he termed them, his opponents.
To this day, King’s ability to see those who hated him, hurt him, imprisoned him, bombed his home, and threatened his family through the lens of love takes my breath away. He may not have liked every individual who crossed his path, but he believed loving them was “absolutely necessary for our survival.”
King’s non-violent resistance was inspired by the work of Mahatma Mohandas Gandhi, who used nonviolent methods to lead India to independence from British rule. I read a story recently about Gandhi that touched me deeply.
The great leader was in the midst of one of his hunger strikes, which he used as a tool to protest conditions in India, especially among the poorest people. He was physically at low ebb, weak and diminished.
A man whose daughter had been killed in the ongoing conflict came to Gandhi in tears, saying that he himself would stop fighting if only Gandhi would begin to eat again. It’s hard to imagine how much it took for the man to make this offer, yet it speaks to how important he felt Gandhi was to the movement.
Gandhi knew that stopping the violence would be a good first step. And yet, in his mind, bringing healing to this man — and to the Indian people — was deeper than simply stopping the violence, so he told the man that he would eat only when the grieving father embraced the man who had killed his daughter.
As a mother, I cannot imagine how I would react to such a statement. The man who had lost his precious daughter collapsed in tears at Gandhi’s words, but did as he was asked. And the larger conflict ended, at least temporarily.
Gandhi’s request reveals his great wisdom: he knew that reaching out to others — no matter what they have done — would help heal the differences between people. His request no doubt made a huge impact on the person who had killed the young woman, as well as on her father.
Someone else whose life and teachings left an indelible mark on me: my mother. Even now, forty years after her death, her words help me to make sense of the world. Her life was not an easy one, punctuated as it was with chronic illness, near-poverty, isolation and a most difficult marriage. Yet she quietly forgave, loved, offered what she could to others, and persevered. She was a woman of great faith and endless compassion. One of the things she often said came to mind as I began writing this column: “This too shall pass.”
My hope is that a word or two here might resonate with you as you consider the tragedies, injustices, wars, unkindnesses and dissension that envelop our world. Here are the words I chose: “Let me think more about what I see, rather than what I look at, as Thoreau suggested. Let what I see be viewed through the lens of love, as King advised. Let me seek healing, not only for myself, but for those whom I don’t like, who have done things that I find abhorrent, as Gandhi modeled. And above all, remember that Mother knows best: forgive, be generous and compassionate, and keep in mind that this too shall pass.”