Not the time to Abandon Our work
"Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief. Do justly now, love mercy now, walk humbly now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it."
This quote, often misattributed solely to the Talmud, is actually a beautiful weaving of wisdom—the first sentence a modern interpretation of Micah 6:8, and the last drawn from Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers) 2:16. Like much of our inspiration, it emerges from the intersection of multiple sources, creating something greater than its parts.
In these challenging times, I've heard countless voices declare they can no longer bear to consume the news. The cacophony from left and right, from every extreme, overwhelms. To be an informed consumer of media demands time, discernment, and continuous self-education.
When I feel the urge to bury my head in the sand, struggling to process the daily barrage of information, I return to these ancient principles: do justly, love mercy, walk humbly. I've been reduced—or perhaps elevated—to focusing on what I can control. This is how I've always intended to operate, though I sometimes forget. The question "What is needed now?" has guided my actions for years—through raising children, navigating divorce, enduring workplace challenges, and discerning where to allocate my energy, time, and resources on every level.
I am neither expected nor required to fix the world, a system, or another soul. What I can do is be present, listen attentively, notice what is needed, and show up with my unique skills and strengths. I feel a responsibility not to abandon this work, even when the world makes me want to run—run away, run hard, run long. Systems of oppression thrive when we are isolated; much of what we experience is designed to keep us apart.
We need one another now more than ever. This work becomes infinitely more manageable when we stand together. Margaret Wheatley's vision of creating "islands of sanity" to restore our collective wellbeing aligns perfectly with ancient calls for community. My work of weaving—first unraveling what no longer serves us, then reweaving the world we wish to inhabit—is precisely what is needed now. Our post-pandemic society continues to break down the silos created by anxiety, uncertainty, and lingering fear.
The path forward lies not in isolation but in connection—in remembering that while we cannot complete the work alone, we must not abandon it either.
