Each of Us Has a Unique Part to Play in the Healing of the World
Even if we sit and do nothing, our planetary bodies remain in a ceaseless conversation with the entire cosmos.
Hi,
How are you this week? Were you able to give away all you had? Or some of it?
Tuesday: We went to watch the sunset — I mean, my boyfriend, my little dog Su, and I. We sat on a big rock together, except for Su, who was bringing sticks for us to throw.
We observed the sun moving across the sky, transforming it from faded blue with hints of grey, to pink with yellow, to purple with crimson, and then, eventually, to one — with the ocean. And after the sky and sun did what they had to do, and we finished watching their daily craftful labour, we began walking back home.
As we approached the main gate, I said to my boyfriend, “We must rub Su,” meaning to clean her from all the sand she managed to collect in a wild play she engages in every time we visit the beach. But R. misunderstood, by accident or by choice, and asked, “Let’s rob Su?” And since the conversation was already unfolding like a skein of yarn accidentally dropped and now rolling across the floor without regard for anything or anyone — I followed, “No, how could we?” and continued, “Besides, what does she have left to give? She has already given us all she had and continues to do so. So even if we tried and robbed her, there would be nothing we could take which we hadn’t already received from her freely.”
And as we stepped through the gate, and through the garden onwards to our door, I thought — and said right after, “This, you know, is actually a good life to strive for.” “What do you mean?” he asked. “I mean — to give so much and so openly to others and to the world that even if someone tried robbing you, there wouldn’t be anything left you hadn’t already given openly and freely, and with joy.”
“That’s a precious thought to hold,” R. said, and we entered the little house which, for a month, we choose to call our home.
“Each of us has a unique part to play in the healing of the world.”
— Marianne Williamson
In my previous letter, I mentioned how my eyes and ears are now extended to the voices preoccupied with matters of nature and their experience of interacting with it. But as I lean over the narratives pertaining to the nature outside of us, I inevitably circle back to that of our own.
And since the thought carrying me there is freshly infused with the observation of the stones I met at the ocean’s shore, the agave plants popping out in landscapes which I do my best to soak in with each tiniest detail, the friendly grains of sand and the splash of the wave — I can only give into this and say to you what I was told to say by them. Because, I believe, as Willow Defebaugh, the Co-founder and Editor-in-Chief of Atmos, does too, that “inspiration is inherently tied to intuition, which is nature’s way of communicating with us. (...) our stories are not our own; they are given to us to tell.”
And the story I’d like to tell today, which could thus be told by anyone, or any leaf, is one of interconnection and giving — and the responsibilities they entail.
Transformation is an integral part of existence
Our world is undergoing massive transformations: economic, political, technological, ecological, spiritual, and those related to physical and mental health. These changes repetitively challenge our collective sense of safety, well-being, and integrity but also compel us to redefine resilience, adaptability, and solidarity of all species.
It’s not too difficult at all to feel helpless and overwhelmed by the scale of disruption. We can indeed feel very, very small looking into the enormous, dark, and ravenous mouth of combined forces wreaking havoc across the world. Simultaneously, many of us wonder what, if any, could be their part in the joint effort to heal our world.
And this is something we can learn when observing the natural world.
Nature embodies a duality of serenity and tumult. It teaches us that to be alive is to navigate through cycles of calm and storm. There, despite occasional disruptions, life thrives through symbiosis and cooperation. And each organism, no matter how seemingly insignificant, plays a crucial role in driving change or maintaining balance and harmony.
Approximately 2.4 billion years ago, one of the most dramatic transformations in Earth's history took place, demanding adaptation beyond what the life forms present at the time were capable of. The proliferation of cyanobacteria, a type of photosynthetic bacteria that was among the earliest life forms on Earth to produce oxygen through photosynthesis, led to the Great Oxygenation Event. The vast amounts of oxygen produced during this process not only enriched the atmosphere but also enabled the evolution of oxygen-dependent, aerobic life forms, while causing a mass extinction of anaerobic (non-oxygen-breathing) organisms.
Today, however, cyanobacteria, along with green algae, engage in symbiotic partnerships with fungi to form composite organisms called lichens. In this partnership, the fungi provide a protective structure and moisture, while the algae or cyanobacteria perform photosynthesis, producing food for both. Each entity has its role to play.
Resulting from this cooperation, lichens, with their pioneer spirit, are often among the first life forms to colonise environments that have been disturbed or destroyed by natural or human activities, initiating the process of soil formation and ecological succession.
This complex, dual role that cyanobacteria have played in shaping life on Earth manifests nature’s capacity for both profound disruption and critical ecological restoration. Similarly, we, humans, possess the innate potential for both disruptive transformation and expansive healing of ourselves and the world.
Big transformative events, while temporarily destructive, are part of the Earth's complex ecological cycles, challenging its inhabitants to adapt and evolve. Transformation, even when it appears catastrophic, is an integral part of existence. Therefore, resilience and the capacity for renewal are embedded within the fabric of life itself. It’s something we inherently possess through the interconnectedness of all things.
It’s so deeply ingrained in us that to observe this phenomenon we don’t need to look further than into our own bodies. In his book I Contain Multitudes: The Microbes Within Us and a Grander View of Life, author Ed Yong writes:
“Even when we are alone, we are never alone. We exist in symbiosis—a wonderful term that refers to different organisms living together. Some animals are colonized by microbes while they are still unfertilized eggs; others pick up their first partners at the moment of birth. We then proceed through our lives in their presence. When we eat, so do they. When we travel, they come along. When we die, they consume us. Every one of us is a zoo in our own right— a colony enclosed within a single body. A multi-species collective. An entire world.”
Even if we sit and do nothing, our planetary bodies remain in a ceaseless conversation with the entire cosmos. The kind of thoughts we cultivate in our minds, the love each one of us holds within, and the intentions dedicated to either our own interest or the betterment of all — they, too, play their own unique part. The health of the universal world is affected by the health of the world encapsulated within our skin, and vice versa.
We can live in harmony and balance
By observing how the natural world navigates these transformations, we can draw parallels to our own abilities to adapt and find strength in adversity. Nature, wise and enduring, operates through a complex web of mutual symbiosis and benevolent interdependence.
This natural interconnectedness and mutual support system provide a blueprint for our human societies and each of us, tiny individuals, submerged in the global, if not universal, constant happening.
Ursula K. Le Guin, a celebrated American author, illustrates this point, showing us how a single act somewhere in the corner of the cosmos influences the whole. Following her lead, we can reconsider our small, but useful role in the larger scheme of life: “When that rock is lifted, the earth is lighter; the hand that bears it heavier. When it is thrown, the circuits of the stars respond, and where it strikes or falls, the universe is changed. On every act the balance of the whole depends.”
Just as diverse species in an ecosystem support one another, and tiny organisms within our body empower it to function at full capacity, similarly, by cultivating harmony within ourselves and fostering a resilient, thriving community, humans too can achieve prosperity and well-being. A balance achieved through giving and receiving, and the recognition of our innate interconnectedness.
“It’s simpler than we realise. When we honour our interconnectedness, we can foster positive relationships and contribute to a more peaceful world.” writes Carmellita in her Medium post. She also says: “Living things are working together for the good of all. Mutual symbiosis and benevolent interdependence exist in nature. All living beings are interconnected. Each has a unique role to play in maintaining balance.”
The role you and I are meant to play might not be readily apparent, and it might not resemble anything we had envisioned. We often emphasise action, the need to do, to accomplish, to 'get things done.' But perhaps it would be helpful to remember that the simple, ongoing act of living—of allowing things to be, where we take great care of the microcosm under — and of — our skin, nurturing the heart and soul that yearn for kindness, love, and care to be both received and extended—could, in itself, be fulfilling our role, small but so useful.
Giving all we have
“Find out what is truly important to you and willingly let it go”, is a piece written by
which says what I am trying to say all in this one sentence, but in it, he also wrote another important thing: “Operate in alignment with all of life. Your existence doesn’t end on the boundaries of your skin. What is outside of you is also you”.Once we understand the interconnectedness of all beings, and all the happening, we will see that giving means receiving, and that giving all we have means reciprocation beyond our grasp. I feel like this alone can remove a lot of walls and obstacles that keep us from healing our worlds.
Paolo continues his thought, and says: “As we relax and allow things as they are in each moment, everything becomes an opportunity for discovery.”
Steady and tranquil within our beings, we are better prepared for a journey of a bigger scale and broader impact — the healing of the world. Thus, as we confront the economic, political, technological, ecological, spiritual, and health-related upheavals of our time, we can look to nature's enduring adaptability as a source of inspiration and remember that it is no different from our own potential.
Giving freely and taking abundantly, it teaches us that while we may not have direct control over external events, we still have the potential for growth and positive influence inherent in every challenge, and every being.
This perspective enables us to face the roiling and ravenous change not with helplessness, but with the resilience and adaptability that is the hallmark of life on Earth. In doing so, we can cultivate a beloved global community that thrives on diversity and interconnectedness, mirroring the agile balance of the natural world.
In times of transformation, when the world is overwhelmed with fear, uncertainty, and grief, we can find comfort in knowing that each one of us has a role to play in its healing.
And let's not forget, as Mary Oliver advised, that all of this could simply mean “(...) to observe with passion, to think with patience, to live always caringly.”
Question to you, dear reader:
How do you fulfil your small, but useful role?