Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not. -Dr. Seuss
Now is a time for caring an awful lot.
Yes, I know, what can one person do?
I hope I haven’t worn out your patience with this, or simply added to the mischief by blowing my own horn, but when I learned of the Buddhist monks’ long walk from Texas to D.C., in terrible winter weather…
And maybe even more, the way those bearers of quiet compassion were received, by people in the southern states, whom I have been conditioned to consider hard-ass…
Well, I thought I might join them. At least a little.
I asked Lacey to help me make a sign. The monks didn’t have signs, but their peaceful beings were more eloquent than any sign. And I don’t own a saffron robe.
We’re in a beach community in southern California, where we walk a lot, by the ocean. It’s a basically friendly place, small enough so I see lots of the same people every day. I have no idea what their politics may be.
But, hey, surfers, surely laid back, peace loving. Even so, walking around with a sign around my neck felt like…well, like exhibitionism, or maybe more provocative than I’m comfortable with.
But then, I walk with Basil, our 16 month old Norfolk Terrier, and he evokes a whole lot of happy greetings.
So…
You know who was most affected by my walking?
I was.
I don’t know if Dr. Seuss had anything like this in mind when he wrote about our needing to care “an awful lot,” but it felt like something an 85 year old guy and a happy puppy could do to show that we care. An awful lot.
And that we’re betting peace is more powerful than violence and hate.
You’ll find a way. And it will count. Things will begin to get better.
