More to Serve than Save
The earth’s beauty and fragility have never been more evident than in this age of wild weather. As a caring person, it’s tempting to race into each day’s exquisite peril, urgently seeking to save the planet. After all, every life of every known species of fauna and flora, from massive to microscopic, depends on the health of this one living speck in the sky. Our cosmic home is uniquely precious.
Mostly, however, I’ve seen individual attempts to save the earth only end in despair. Twenty years ago, one of my closest friends—also one of the most inspiring environmental activists and insightful creative talents—chose to end her life. She did so in part because of her self-perceived failure in this savior’s regard. “It’s never too late to save the earth,” was her rallying cry. That even became the title of her brilliant, hilarious one-woman play. Yet if she couldn’t even save herself, I wondered, what could any of the rest of us do?
I’ve spent two decades answering that question, by learning more to serve than save this vibrant world. In serving with gratitude and celebration, I’ve found a more effective path. I’ve learned how we can avoid suffering similar despair.
The guru currently reminding me of this is a koi in a Japanese garden pond. I marvel at how the fish has no cognizance of its own beauty, nor of the ripples it’s causing. Yet lacking that cognizance doesn’t diminish its beauty, nor does is it diminish its effect upon the pond. Living in that pond is all the koi needs to do, to fulfill its vital role.
It's the same for us, in our own little ponds. Our perceived ineffectiveness is only another illusion. We too have more beauty than we realize. We too create ripples we can’t even see, when we fulfill our natural role of service to the greater good. Our natural role might be to serve others in our local community. It might be to care for a small plot of wild land, or a gardened one. It might be to assist animals, children, parents. It might involve the practice of a healing art. It might be any small path of kindness and compassion. If all of us focus on our small, diverse roles of service, though, our individual beauty and ripples merge and flow throughout our shared pond. Our collective effectiveness grows beyond our own ability to sense it.
Over many years of daily practice, I’ve learned that within our service roles, celebration and gratitude are practical, essential skills. They’re not ethereal ignorance of the myriad issues we face in this turbulent time. Gratitude and celebration are foundational elements of the beautiful ripples themselves, which inform and deepen the effect of every motion we make. They help immensely in caring gracefully for others.
Trusting this truth, we can swim off into each wild new day with faith that our beauty and ripples will have more effect than we’ll ever know—even if no one else notices. Even that thought manifests another ripple of gratitude instead of despair.