How to Change the World 101

Photo by Jessica Podraza

I’m always drawn to Sandra Bullock’s character in “Miss Congeniality” when, on stage at a beauty pageant and asked what society needs more of, she says, “Harsher punishment for parole violators, Stan. And World Peace.” Because it’s true. Isn’t that what we all want, what society needs more of? (World peace, not harsher punishment for parole violators.)

This is not meant to be a political statement about the condition of the world today, but I’ve been listening to some things and reminded of how we just need a little more compassion in the world today. It’s great when we say that, think that and then we can go on our merry way, right?  World peace is someone else’s job. That’s a role for our fearless, impeccable leaders, right? It’s not my responsibility…right?

I am not a great leader of the masses. I don’t believe it is my life’s role to lead a contingent into salvation, peace, and enlightenment. When I think about my desire for “world peace” I can either get helplessly catatonic over that fact or wipe my hands and say, “Phew! Thank goodness we had Jesus, Buddha, MLK, Nelson Mandela to take us there,” at least in part.

But seriously, where have all the cowboys gone? The world gets crazier every day. (If you haven’t noticed this, just turn on your favorite news show for about 55 seconds. If you really feel brave, turn on your least favorite news show for about 30.)

But here I sit, my middle-class self, in my Starbucks-induced bubble, with my head down trying to find the periwinkle stub of a crayon to add to my rainbow color-by-number template in front of me.

It’s easy to turn the TV off, turn our backs on what’s happening on the other side of the world. Heck it’s easy to shut our door, turn off our lights and forget that the neighbor across the street just lost her son, your workmate just had a sleepless night caring for her friend, your college buddy’s wife is having her last chance dose of chemo tomorrow.

I’ve done this. I’ve done this to people I care about. I do this to people I don’t know and presume I don’t want to know. I am not bragging. Sometimes it just hits too close to home.

Maybe you just thought to yourself, “Well, I would NEVER turn my back on my neighbor, my workmate or my friend in those situations.” Bully for you.

Note: It’s not just the people you like who are suffering.

What about the man standing in the intersection with a backpack and cardboard sign?

What about the woman who walks the sidewalks near your grocery store yelling loudly about nothing to nobody?

What about the neighbor you haven’t met who drives that dirty white van with no windows?

What judgements do we put on people who look different than us, speak with an accent unlike ours, live in houses we deem unlivable? (Oh, the middle school stories that come to mind…)

But we are not in middle school anymore.

It’s difficult to see other humans in pain and agony, whether on TV from another continent away or two feet outside our car window. It’s difficult, maybe, because we haven’t allowed ourselves to feel our own suffering and pain. If we don’t see it in ourselves, how can we acknowledge it in others?

David Goggins in his book Never Finished references his mother who suffered at the hands of an abusive husband for years before finally escaping with her son. He writes, “Like so many of us, she didn't want to feel her pain, so she neglected to find the power in it."

When we discard our own pain, ignore our heartaches, push away our agony, we numb ourselves to those feelings in others. So how can we possibly find compassion for others when we’ve withdrawn from our own emotional needs?

When we can deeply acknowledge and allow for the feeling of our own difficult emotions, we find power in it. Strangely we feel comfort in it. There’s strength sitting there for us to use in the world. If we can’t find and feel the sorrow, we can’t find and feel the joy.

So, my thesis on how we change the world? Allow your pain so you can be more responsive to others’ pain.

Joseph Goldstein in a Psychology Podcast discussion says we tend to be reactive to the world rather than responsive. When we bump up against another person’s pain, we immediately put our guard up, close ourselves off so we don’t feel their suffering. Our mind says, “Watch out! That pain looks a lot like my fear of dying—don’t acknowledge it in them.” “Hold on! Don’t look that homeless man in the face—you might see loneliness there.” “Red Alert! If you call your friend who just lost their son, you might break down and cry with her.”

But what if we allowed ourselves to connect—just a little—with another person’s pain for just a moment. What would that be like? Can you even approach that thought?

What if we were responsive to others—seeing people as people with hurts, pain, pasts, sufferings, rather than reactive and protective, judgmental, defensive?

What if the next time you approach an intersection where a disheveled man is walking in the median with a cardboard sign reading, “Just need a little help,” you looked him in the eye and smiled, said hello, instead of avoiding eye contact or pretending to check your text messages or GPS?

What if the next time that co-worker comes into your office gruffly (again) with eyes down, eyebrows furrowed, instead of avoiding a conversation, you stopped typing, looked at their face and said, “Good morning. How are you?” and actually paused for a response?

Equanimity is the state of being impartial, a responsive space that can hold everything and sees all the sides of everything. It’s nonreactivity, especially in the face of pain and strong emotions.

I believe if each of us can be more equanimous—hold space for emotions, not only others’ but our own—rather than respond by turning away, pretending we don’t see, or spewing ugly sentiments the world would be a much better place to live.

How do you think you can change the world?