Lately I’ve been thinking about the role of the individual and the collective and how sometimes the individual’s desires are met at the expense of the collective’s. In particular, I’m thinking in the context of climate change. Recently I read the most horrific article about climate change predicting a genocide from it. How in some places drought will last for five years. Five years! People, I’m not too proud to admit I’m terrified, because I am.
I also thought about how we got into this mess and from my perspective anyway, it seems in many cases we put short-term gain before long-term sustainability. How some corporations decided as long as they could make a profit now, that’s all that mattered. The future? Well, that’s in the future. Worry about it then. I realize I’m painting corporations as the villain, but corporations are made up of people. I see shortsightedness in individuals as well. When I lived in London, I had a roommate who steamed a dress by running the shower while she puttered around in the bedroom. When I called her on it, she said, “Well, I pay for the water.” Her response dumbfounded me. What do you even say to that? She felt like she had every right to waste water because she paid for it. In that circumstance anyway she didn’t think about the impact of her actions. She only thought about how she wanted her dress wrinkle-free but didn’t want to expend time ironing it.
We’re all spinning on the same blue planet. Photo by NASA on Unsplash.
Sometimes we live in bubbles and think our actions don’t affect other people or our environment. We don’t think about how interdependent we all are. On the other hand, sometimes we take too much responsibility. I read another article in the Guardian about how our personal actions to combat climate change only go so far. Switching to compact fluorescent light bulbs only does so much. Of course it makes a difference, but the scale is small compared with the greenhouse gases emitted by agribusiness and factories. Many of us have bought into the idea solving climate change is the individual’s responsibility. It is. And it’s not. We must work in tandem. Carry a canvas tote bag but also put pressure on corporations to change their ways. Drive an electric car but also demand the government build better public transportation infrastructure.
This post is a little all over the place but what I’m getting at is sometimes for the good of the collective we have to sacrifice a little. Sometimes for the good of the collective we can’t think only of ourselves and what works for us. Sometimes we have to think about other people too and the environment and how all the pieces fit together. We have to remember we aren’t our own ecosystems. We aren’t islands completely removed from others. We all fit together and that means our selfish and self-centered tendencies must be reigned in. We are individuals and we are a collective. Both matter and both have a part to play. For the long-term health of the planet, we must learn to work together in harmony.
I dream of a world where we balance the needs of individuals with the needs of society as a whole. A world where we keep in mind the future and long-term sustainability of the planet and each other. A world where we learn to work in harmony for the good of all of us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
This weekend I met someone formerly associated with my yoga and meditation group way back in the 70s when he lived in Atlanta. That may not seem especially remarkable, but it’s literally never happened to me before. I’ve met people who had some exposure to it, but not people who engaged with the practices and then drifted away. My yoga and meditation group, while worldwide, is small and the chances of an affiliation with it coming up in a first conversation with someone at a party is unlikely. I grin thinking about the encounter from this weekend because it reminds me the universe is not random and chaotic. There is an order and an intelligence at play of which I get glimpses sometimes.
I take comfort in believing order and intelligence reigns because there are a lot of things going on in the world and in my life that I don’t understand, that I wish were different. There are certain elected officials I wish weren’t in office. There are certain policies I wish were abolished. I wish my body reacted differently to certain foods. I wish I didn’t have certain ailments. And when I spend all my time wishing things were different – while also working to change them – I get frustrated and feel like I’m beating my head against a brick wall. I easily succumb to despair. When life throws a little magic, a little synchronicity my way, hope flares up again and I’m reminded that perhaps I’m unable to see the whole picture. That I’m a character in a play that only knows her lines and not the lines of everyone else.
And then there’s sand timer time. Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash
The other reason I appreciate the encounter from this weekend is the demonstration that things circle back. The man I met hasn’t been an active member of my group for nearly 50 years and now he might pick it up again. In my mind, if something doesn’t happen in the short term, it will never happen. I have big dreams and at the moment it seems like I’m veering away from them. I have sadness about that because these dreams are near and dear to my heart, but at the moment they aren’t feasible given my energy levels and my financial situation. Does that mean I give them up for good?
Intellectually I understand the answer to that question is “no.” I see many models in society of people who accomplished things later in life, but emotionally, the answer feels like a “yes.” The more reminders I have that things circle back, that dreams can be delayed, the better.
My spiritual teacher says that “whatever happens in this universe of ours is nothing but an expression of Cosmic desire or Cosmic will … when a human desire and His desire coincide, then only does the human desire become fruitful, otherwise it is a sure failure.”
Sometimes when I want something to happen doesn’t match up to when the cosmos wants something to happen. Sometimes the soil isn’t fertile enough. Sometimes you plant something and the yield is pitiful, but after adding nutrients to the soil, the yield is plentiful. I’m reminded here the universe is playing a long game. My recovery mentor says, “You’re looking at your watch while Higher Power is looking at the calendar.” My part I think is having patience, trust, and faith in the timing of things.
I dream of a world where we remember the universe has a long-term plan while many of us only think in the short term. A world where we recognize if we’re not ready for something just yet, it will circle back to us if it’s meant to be. A world where we realize while it may not seem so on the surface, the world is an ordered, intelligent place.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I’m sick right now so I can’t guarantee the eloquence of this post, but I wanted to write something anyway because I feel passionately about this topic. I’m observing a few things going on in the world right now. Tension is high. People are pissed, rightly so, at all the injustice running rampant. I’m not a sexual assault survivor, but I was also affected by the Ford-Kavanaugh hearing. To listen to so many horrible stories from people and to witness some of the reactions to them didn’t make me feel good. Everyone wants to feel seen, heard, and respected and when we’re not, it’s painful.
I also notice people in power are pissed too. Again, one only has to look at Kavanaugh’s testimony to see that. He didn’t show up to the hearing contrite. He showed up belligerent, denying all accusations. The New Yorker ran an opinion piece declaring the Ford-Kavanaugh hearing will be remembered as a “grotesque display of patriarchal resentment.”
We are one big family. Photo by rawpixel on Unsplash
These are the times we’re living in. From an astrological perspective, there’s a whole lot of “othering” going on, as in separating from others, erecting boundaries, and dehumanizing people. Astrology is not causal, it’s instead like a map, and in this instance, we as a society are demonstrating the disintegrated version of the Saturn:Pluto transit. Othering is not limited to sexism, its showing up everywhere. It shows up in the treatment of people of color, in immigrants, of the LGBTQIA community. Anyone who doesn’t fall into the majority is subjected to “othering.” What’s interesting for me to notice though is even those who are privileged and in the majority are not immune to being “othered.” I read an exchange on facebook where a white man posted something he thought was supportive of the #metoo movement and a woman blasted him for it because she thought otherwise. She said instead his post played into patriarchy, that he is part of the problem, that he’s another privileged white dude perpetuating the disempowerment of women.
I get where people are coming from and at the same time I’m reminded of a quote someone shared on facebook that struck me as relevant for the times we’re living in: “If you don’t heal what hurt you, you’ll bleed all over the person who didn’t cut you.” Yep. Lots of bleeding right now. Lots of hurt people walking around. We are all taking out our pain on each other.
What is the solution here? The solution I think is three-fold: One, to heal what hurt us, whatever that looks like. Two, I think it’s important to practice empathy, to understand the perspective of all our siblings. We don’t all have the same experiences, but we all have the same needs. There is more that binds us than divides us. Lastly, as philosopher P.R. Sarkar writes in his book, The Liberation of Intellect: Neohumanism, “You will have to carry the collectivity with you, because the collectivity is yours. The collectivity is not outside you – your future is inseparably connected with the collective fortune. You must take the entire collectivity with you and move toward the sweetest radiance of the new crimson dawn, beyond the veil of the darkest night.”
We are a collective, moving together. We are a universal family sharing the resources of this planet. We are like a garden filled with numerous flowers, but ultimately all a part of the same garden. Like flowers, on the surface we have different petals, different leaves. Some of us require more water and some of us require less, but we are all flowers. We all require care and attention and I truly believe we can make it so.
I dream of a world where we all work together to take care of each other. A world where we seek to understand our kith and kin. A world where we remember we have more in common than we might believe. A world where we realize there is no “other,” only us.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
My apartment building is up for sale. Suffice to say, I’m freaking out about it because I’m worried I’ll have to move. To be clear, the building hasn’t been sold yet, there’s no evidence to support my anxiety, but it’s here nonetheless. It’s here because finding a place to live has proved challenging for me. I’ve moved 31 times in 33 years. From 2012 to 2015, I moved on average every three months. Something always forced me out – my landlady’s dog biting me and drawing blood, bad neighbors, an inhospitable landlady, etc. It’s always been something out of my control so my current situation is resurrecting a lot of trauma because this, too, is out of my control.
I spoke with a friend on Friday and she reminded me that even if I bought a house, something could happen like a wildfire or flooding. Those are real scenarios as we’ve all seen. There’s no absolute certainty, no guaranteed safety, and for an anxious person, that’s the last thing I want to contemplate. My friend and my therapist remind me real safety comes from the ability to respond to a situation. To pivot as necessary. Safety means rolling with the punches.
Not my house but I like the mix of something steadfast with a home. Photo by Seth kane on Unsplash.
Right now I’d rather not roll with the punches, thank you very much. Right now I’d like to hide away under the covers and withdraw from the world. I don’t particularly want to write this blogpost either but I am because this is what I do, I write. I also know there are many people who feel similarly – maybe not about housing, but about something else.
Where do I go from here? From here, I fall back on my spiritual practices, where I always go. According to my spiritual philosophy there is an unchanging, absolute, eternal entity. Some people call that entity God or Cosmic Consciousness or Source or the Universe. The name doesn’t matter so much. My meditation is an effort to move ever closer to that unchanging, absolute, eternal entity and then to merge with it. One of the names for this practice in Sanskrit is Iishvara prańidhána. Iishvara means controller of the universe and prańidhána means to adopt something as a shelter. Therefore, Iishvara prańidhána means to adopt the controller of the universe as a shelter. It means to take refuge in the controller of the universe. That sounds academic, I know, but in essence it means to align myself with the divine.
What does that mean about my fear surrounding housing? It means one way to deal with the fear is to put myself in the Cosmic flow, to allow myself to be sheltered by something bigger than me. To accept the protection of my higher power with the nuance that bad things happen and good things happen and through it all I have a permanent, unwavering shelter.
I dream of a world where we take permanent shelter in something bigger than us. A world where we recognize certainty doesn’t come from things staying rigid but rather shoring up our internal strength and resilience to respond to stimuli. A world where we recognize there is an unchanging entity we can attach ourselves to and that’s where real security lies.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
All week I’ve bobbed along on an ocean of grief, coming in and out of numbness. Another community member of mine died, a monk from my yoga and meditation group. He had cancer so it wasn’t altogether unexpected, but still sad. I cried when I first heard the news and then I thought I was over it. Until I noticed I checked my email, facebook, and instagram a million times trying to dodge my grief. How I wanted to escape my life and be in someone else’s. Who wants to feel grief? Grief sucks.
In texting with a friend, I realized I have resistance to grieving, not only about this monk, but other losses in my life, because if I do, that means I’ve fully let go. It’s a real and final goodbye. And in order to keep the person a presence in my life, I’ve tried to block my feelings. Like a child who says, “If I don’t say goodbye to you then you can’t leave, right?” But they have and can and do. Whether I say goodbye or not doesn’t matter. And even when I do say goodbye, even when I know a person is knocking on death’s door, it still doesn’t mean I’m ready to bid them adieu. Is anyone ever truly ready to say goodbye to someone?
“Becoming the ocean” is no easy task. Photo by Ngaere Woodford-Bender on Unsplash.
When I was much younger, I remember trying to comfort my dad after someone died. I tried to console him with the notion that we’re all still connected. That just because a person has left their physical body doesn’t mean the relationship has severed. Nor does it mean we won’t reunite, especially as he and I believe in reincarnation. I’ll never forget, he countered with, “Yeah, but we’ll never meet each other again in this life.” That’s what grief is; recognizing and honoring that loss. No amount of saying, “You’ll see each other again,” can sidestep the loss.
So I’m crying in fits and spurts. I’m also contemplating what my spiritual teacher said about the dissolution of ego. How many people are scared of merging with something bigger than themselves because they view it as annihilation. To describe the process he uses the metaphor of a salt doll and the sea. He says, “If a salt doll goes to measure the sea, it will melt into it. Neither can it measure the sea, nor will it ever return; its existence will merge into the vastness of the sea, releasing it from all cares and worries. If one wishes to take the form of the sea, one will have to become the sea itself; there is no other way.”
If I wish to continue progressing in this life, I have to become the sea itself. I have to let go. To feel the feelings that I’m blocking. And in doing so, I’ll come upon something bigger than me. The salt doll becomes the ocean. Perhaps the grief I feel is carrying me toward something else, something bigger that I’m unaware of. And instead of the loss of my friends as final, maybe I’m traveling to a place altogether new. I’m not sure. Only time will tell.
I dream of a world where we allow ourselves to grieve the dead. A world where we realize the relationship changes into something new. A world where we surrender to the process we’re undertaking and allow ourselves to be swept away, letting go of the old and embracing the new.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
The other day in an email to my recovery mentor I wrote, “There is grace in limitation.” My eyes about bugged out of my head. I couldn’t believe I wrote that because I’m all about freedom, innovation, and unencumbered roaming, yet as I typed it, I realized it’s true.
From my perspective, U.S. culture lionizes pushing boundaries, tearing down walls, unhindered growth. All of that has its place, but so does maintaining boundaries, erecting walls, and hindered growth. I think about shoes. When my sister and I were little, we used to play dress up and wear our mother’s shoes. We clattered around in her too-big high heels, but we couldn’t competently walk in them. Her shoes contained too much space for our feet. In order to not trip over ourselves, we have to wear shoes that are only slightly bigger than our feet. We all need some limits.
I like the life within these shoes. Seems fitting for this post. Photo by Mika on Unsplash
Right now I’m living in the land of limits. My sleep is still terrible, my energy is still low. I’m possibly on a precipice of change but I don’t know for sure. I’m still in limbo, waiting to find out. And instead of rebelling against my situation like I normally do, for this week anyway I’m recognizing there is grace here too.
The message to me right now seems to be, “It’s OK to go slow. It’s OK to rest. It’s OK to take things easy, for life to be small.” I’m not zooming ahead. I’m not initiating new projects or learning new things. I’m sitting still and letting that be allowed.
I know I’ve mentioned this before, but my spiritual teacher characterizes movement as systaltic, like a heartbeat. A pulse. He said, “Now everything moves and that movement is of systaltic nature. Wherever there is any movement there is pulsation. Without pulsation there cannot be any movement. And this pulsation, that is movement through speed and pause, is an essential factor for each and every animate or inanimate object. Wherever there is existential factor there must be this pulsation. An entity acquires strength and stamina during the pause phase, and emanates vibration during the speed period. There cannot however, be any absolute speed or absolute pause in the created world.”
My takeaway from that is no matter what phase we’re in – speed or pause – is natural, normal. There is no period that’s wasted or bad or however else I sometimes think of the pause. The pause is just as crucial as the sprint because that’s where strength and stamina are acquired. There is grace here. There is good here. There is God here.
I dream of a world where we remember all phases of life are natural and normal. A world where we recognize the good in pausing, in stopping, in waiting. A world where we realize pausing is a crucial part of life. A world where we realize there is grace in limitation.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
I read an article in my university’s alumni magazine the other day about Andre Ingram, who at 32 became a rookie for the LA Lakers. Reading his story I teared up because the whole thing seems so surreal, so unlikely.
Since he was 8, Andre dreamed of playing for the NBA. He played in high school and then at our university. Once he graduated, he toiled for years in the NBA’s minor league. And I do mean toiled – he made $13,000 for the entire season in the minor leagues, which is less than what NBA players make for a couple of games. He tutored kids in math while his wife also worked. He says he thought about quitting several times, and some friends advised the same, or to find a better payday overseas. But he persisted.
This picture seemed appropriate. Photo by Patrick Fore on Unsplash
“Every time I was ready to jump off that ledge something pulled me back,” he said. “Whether it was in training, when I’m hitting every shot I take, or in the weight room getting encouraged by the guys. My story is to let that voice, let that encouragement, pull you back in.”
Andre is the oldest American rookie in the NBA since 1964. His story fascinates me because at what point does a person give up on their dream? Sometimes a dream is a delusion. We’ve all seen those auditions on TV where someone thinks they’re an amazing singer or dancer and they have zero talent. To the rest of the world, it’s obvious the person will never be a star, but they can’t believe it. At what point is it harmful to keep believing a dream? At what point is it better to let it go? I don’t have the answers to those questions. I’m sure many people told Andre it was unlikely he’d ever play in the NBA. A 32-year-old with gray hairs competing against people 10 years his junior? What are the odds he could share the court with them? But it happened.
What struck me the most about Andre’s story is that quote I shared about how something kept pulling him back. Every time he wanted to quit, something kept him from doing it. That to me reeks of intuition, which my spiritual teacher defines as a reflection of consciousness or spirit. Just like a mirror, the reflection can become cloudy, but the more we connect to consciousness or spirit, the clearer the reflection will be.
Again, I don’t have all the answers, but it seems to me if something keeps coming up over and over again, it’s likely intuition. But if I get an idea in my head and convince myself it’s true despite all evidence to the contrary, it’s likely delusion. It seems to me there’s a fine line between a dream and a delusion. Perhaps the joy of being human is figuring it out. Sometimes we’re disappointed but sometimes we’re ecstatic. The thrill is finding out which we’ll experience.
I dream of a world where we walk the fine line between pursuing our dreams and dropping our delusions. A world where we keep going when something reels us back in. A world where we understand something may seem out of reach, but that doesn’t always mean it is.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Right now I’m editing a re-translation of a philosophy book for my yoga and meditation group. It’s engrossing stuff (for me) because I’m curious about how the world works. I’m always interested in the “why” of everything and this book is answering many questions. One of the tenets, which is also a law of nature, is that for every action, there is an opposite and equal reaction. Something I find fascinating is the book talks about how inescapable that is.
My spiritual teacher says some people will pray to escape the consequences of their actions, or perform rituals to appeal to the gods, but it’s not possible. All that can happen is a delay, like paying back a loan. You can set the terms for 18 months or three years, but the loan will be repaid. Also, for the purposes of this post I won’t address miracles, like when a person was supposed to die but their life was saved. I’m speaking in general terms about how both good and bad, our actions have consequences.
Globes seemed like the perfect image to illustrate this post. Photo by Duangphorn Wiriya on Unsplash
In looking at our current president, I see life catching up to him. The noose is tightening around his neck, so to speak. The evidence continues to mount regarding Russia meddling with the U.S. election to place him into power. Trump is being exposed for all his wrongdoings like laundering money, assaulting women, etc. In some ways it seems like he’s untouchable because we’ve known these things for years, and yet he remains not only free, but still in power. It boggles the mind, and personally, boils my blood.
I’m reminded here that what goes around comes around. One of the other things the philosophy book mentions is that not all consequences manifest during the lifetime in which they incurred, meaning sometimes they manifest in another life. However, no one is invulnerable. No one can escape their fate, no matter how many people they pay off.
I realize this post isn’t very sunshine-y but that’s where I’m at today, feeling somber. I’m thinking about how people, myself included, want to lie for self-preservation. How it’s easier to say, “I didn’t do that,” rather than admit the truth and deal with the repercussions. The repercussions aren’t always fun, but they will catch up to us eventually. That’s why my spiritual teacher cautions taking good actions. Good actions result in good consequences and bad actions result in bad consequences.
In the short term we may benefit from lying, cheating, and stealing, but in the long run we will not. I’m reminded of that quote from John Wesley who said, “Do all the good you can. By all the means you can. In all the ways you can. In all the places you can. At all the times you can. To all the people you can. As long as ever you can.” Words to live by.
I dream of a world where we realize our actions have consequences. A world where we understand we can’t run away from repercussions. A world where we try our best to do all the good we can by all the means we can. A world where we remember what goes around comes around and we act accordingly.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Almost exactly a year ago, my coworker died unexpectedly. The news hit me harder than I anticipated, particularly because we weren’t close. Now a year later, my heart still twinges with grief. My company has long since replaced him – someone new writes for us – but in reality people are not like auto parts and therefore not replaceable.
I notice in American culture we tend to believe the opposite; we commodify others, especially in the context of romantic relationships. How often do we say to someone after a breakup, “You’ll meet someone new”? As if the new person will act like putty and exactly fill the vacant space? I realize it comes from a well-meaning place, but Eric’s death shows me how not true this perspective is, for me anyway. We hired someone to literally fulfill all the duties Eric left open, but the new guy is no Eric. He performs his job well, but he’s not a replica of Eric.
People are not mechanical parts. Photo by Aaron Barnaby on Unsplash
Going back to dating, I notice the same thing – I still miss certain things about my exes. Each new man brought something different to the table, but they didn’t erase the person before. Instead of acting like putty, each person has a place in my heart that is theirs and theirs alone, but they share the space with others. No one is forgotten, and no one is replaced, including me. Up until about two years ago, I feared once I died it would be like I never existed, which I think stemmed from inherited family trauma. On my mom’s side, almost all of my relatives were killed in the Holocaust. Entire swathes of my family are a big question mark. In some ways, it’s like they never existed because I know nothing about them, but it’s not true: They did exist.
Even though I don’t know the names of my distant relatives, they still existed. They still impacted the people around them, including those who survived. And their loss still left a mark. Eric’s loss still leaves a mark. It always will because he’s not some cog in a wheel I throw away once it stops functioning.
My spiritual teacher says, “If one ant meets a premature death, it will disturb the balance of the entire cosmos. Therefore, nothing here is unimportant, not even an ant.” I don’t think I fully imbibed that statement before. Today I understand it on a whole new level – how each and every being is important, significant. Even the overlooked and often maligned ant is precious, loved, important. Each person, each relationship, be it personal or professional, is special. It’s a disservice to ourselves and others to pretend differently.
I dream of a world where we realize each person is irreplaceable. A world where we realize each relationship occupies a place in our heart. A world where we understand every living being is important and precious.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
On Saturday, I cried while sitting in my bathtub reading a fictional book set during World War II. The characters are imaginary, but the circumstances are not. I cried thinking about the atrocities that my own grandparents endured, and I cried thinking about the atrocities people continue to endure. Even now, children sit in jails, unwashed, covered in lice. Thank goodness a lawsuit is underway, but still. Why do we do this to each other?
According to my spiritual philosophy, people reincarnate. And not only do they reincarnate, they evolve. Evolve from what? They start from the simplest organism and get progressively more complex until finally reaching human form. What that means on a practical level is some people are only one step removed from animals. Some people are still guided by their baser instincts and unable to access higher levels of their consciousness. Before someone sends me an email and says many animals behave better than some human beings, I will say, yes, you are correct. Many animals, especially domesticated ones, shows high levels of compassion and love. Wild animals though? Not as common.
I like how hearts permeate the darkness here. Photo by Element5 Digital on Unsplash.
It would be easy to say some human beings just aren’t as evolved and leave it at that, but human beings are complicated. It’s not only about evolution, but also about what propensities, or vrttis, we choose to engage with. Some people derive pleasure from cruelty and hatred. In New Age circles, people liken this to operating from the lower chakras, or energy centers. However, in my spiritual tradition, that’s a little too simplistic. Almost every chakra point has positives and negatives. For instance, the throat chakra is associated not only with sweet expression, but vitriolic expression as well. We all have the capacity for both good and evil within us.
Why am I bringing this up? I’m suggesting the importance of holding on to our empathy. We’ve all seen movies where the tortured become the torturers. Where victims become perpetrators. I’m not suggesting good and moral people of the world just “be nice” to neo-Nazis and their ilk and hope the ensuing treatment will change their minds. I’m not a pacifist by any means. I firmly believe in the use of force when necessary. However, I also think it’s important to not fuel hatred within ourselves. To remember we are all human beings, worthy and deserving of love and respect. For instance, even prisons should be like a reform school, according to my spiritual teacher. And the person in charge should be a teacher who is trained in psychology and who has genuine love for society.
Why does he say this? I don’t know for sure, but I’m guessing it’s because merely turning one group of people after another into inferior beings merely perpetuates the abuse cycle. There’s that famous poem from Martin Niemöller about how first they came for the socialists and he did not speak out because he was not a socialist, and then eventually they came for him and there was no one left to speak for him. Not only does he suggest speaking up for others, but he demonstrates how hatred travels from group to group.
What I’d like to see is a world where we halt hatred in its tracks. A world where we remember all human beings, regardless of their race, nationality, gender, sexual orientation, etc., are human beings. A world where we treat each person as a sibling, a member of our universal family. A world where we take corrective action, but we do it with love in our hearts. A world where we sow love among hate.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.