Between Grief and Hope, I Choose Presence and to Bear Witness

A lot has been weighing on my heart lately, especially the deeply troubling news out of Minnesota and the growing tensions around federal immigration enforcement and community safety. Another Minnesotan life has been taken in a confrontation involving federal immigration agents, sparking protests, calls for accountability, and broader questions about justice and public safety in our country.

At the same time, I keep returning to this powerful, counter-cultural story of a group of Buddhist monks (and a dog) who are walking from Fort Worth, TX toward Washington, D.C., not with a political message, but with one of peace, unity, and presence. They are simply walking, in the cold and snow, and are doing so at their continued peril. They’ve been struck by a car for god’s sake. Their message is that peace is as much a practice as it is a hope. They are courageous, walking without protection (or masks). They are singularly focused and dedicated to a mission, giving resolve in motion.

These two paths — one marked by conflict and grief, the other by quiet resolve and prayer — feel so starkly different, yet so prescient in their timing. It’s not lost on me that both paths ultimately lead to D.C. The two paths almost feel like collective invitations to reflect on who we are and who we want to be as a community and as a country.

I feel drawn to be in D.C. when the monks arrive. Not for politics, but to bear witness. It feels important. It feels like the right path for me.

May our hearts be steady, our actions grounded, and our paths, even when divergent, lead us toward deeper peace and understanding. See you in D.C.?