“Powerless. Helpless. Sadness.” These words come forth from a lot of people these days—including myself. When world news provides daily coverage of the unbelievable destruction of Ukraine’s cities, it’s heart-breaking to witness the brutality and forced dispersal of the residents who dwell there. Questions arise: “How can this be? What can I do?” Discouragement follows, knowing we personally cannot change the course of this invasion. This process rests in the hands of world leaders to end the ruthless aggression.
Lately I’ve pondered my uncomfortable sense of powerlessness and wondered if this feeling might be of value. Perhaps personal growth can come from accepting it. I treasure my independence and doing what is possible to control how my life evolves. An American mantra inserts itself in my mental DNA: “You can do anything if you try hard enough. Everything is possible with enough effort and patience, if you know the right people.”
But this is not true. Not always. Not for everyone.
A time has come for me to admit an inability of being able to march on with a stalwart spirit to make change happen, no matter what. This realization is humbling. Yet, I’m beginning to see where it might lead. My powerlessness unites me with countless people of the world living on the margins. They’ve not had influence, recognition, or opportunity to develop their fullest potential and truest selfhood. Tara Brach writes in Dharma for Times of Global Trauma: “We forget our belonging to one another and to our larger body of earth. We forget our belonging to the boundless, loving awareness which is our shared essence. … We
are at a time in history where the illusion of a separate self — with its unprocessed fear, aggression and destructiveness — threatens all life systems on our planet. More than ever, we need practices that can evolve consciousness from “self-other” or “us-them” to “we” — practices that motivate us to act on behalf of our collective wellbeing.”
Persons in recovery from addictions know how essential it is to acknowledge being powerless. But they don’t stop there. They focus on the presence of a Higher Power to provide for necessary strength. The presence of sponsors and those who attend the AA meetings adds to their ability to cope when helplessness taunts their recovery.
As Christians we will soon enter into “Holy Week” to remember Jesus’ Passion and Death. The agony of his struggle in the Garden of Olives will be described—his fear and desolation as he faced a future crucifixion. He, too, felt a need for others to provide courage and strength during his powerlessness. Jesus knew the value of presence. No wonder our hearts ache when his beloved disciples whom he asks to “watch” with him fall asleep instead.
The people of Ukraine need others to “watch” with them. We can do this by prayer and by our supportive hospitality when they enter our country as refugees. This is no small thing. The interior movement of our compassion extends far beyond the borders of our heart. Loving-kindness can silently reach those defending their homeland or fleeing for safety. Even if we feel helpless in changing their situation, we can keep watch with the people of Ukraine who are suffering. We can choose to not fall asleep.
Abundant peace,
Joyce Rupp
