We Were Made For These Times
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
My friends,
do not lose heart. We were made for these times. I have heard from so many
recently who are deeply and properly bewildered. They are concerned about
the state of affairs in our world now. Ours is a time of almost daily
astonishment and often righteous rage over the latest degradations of what
matters most to civilized, visionary people. You are right
in your assessments. The lustre and hubris some have aspired to while
endorsing acts so heinous against children, elders, everyday people, the
poor, the unguarded, the helpless, is breathtaking. Yet, I urge you, ask
you, gentle you, to please not spend your spirit dry by bewailing these
difficult times. Especially do not lose hope. Most particularly because, the
fact is that we were made for these times. Yes. For years, we have been
learning, practicing, been in training for and just waiting to meet on this
exact plain of engagement. I grew up on
the Great Lakes and recognize a seaworthy vessel when I see one. Regarding
awakened souls, there have never been more able vessels in the waters than
there are right now across the world. And they are fully provisioned and
able to signal one another as never before in the history of humankind. Look out over
the prow; there are millions of boats of righteous souls on the waters with
you. Even though your veneers may shiver from every wave in this stormy
roil, I assure you that the long timbers composing your prow and rudder come
from a greater forest. That long-grained lumber is known to withstand
storms, to hold together, to hold its own, and to advance, regardless. In any dark
time, there is a tendency to veer toward fainting over how much is wrong or
unmended in the world. Do not focus on that. There is a tendency, too, to
fall into being weakened by dwelling on what is outside your reach, by what
cannot yet be. Do not focus there. That is spending the wind without raising
the sails. We are
needed, that is all we can know. And though we meet resistance, we more so
will meet great souls who will hail us, love us and guide us, and we will
know them when they appear. Didn't you say you were a believer? Didn't you
say you pledged to listen to a voice greater? Didn't you ask for grace?
Don't you remember that to be in grace means to submit to the voice greater? Ours is not
the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to
mend the part of the world that is within our reach. Any small, calm thing
that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this
poor suffering world, will help immensely. It is not given to us to know
which acts or by whom, will cause the critical mass to tip toward an
enduring good. What is
needed for dramatic change is an accumulation of acts, adding, adding to,
adding more, continuing. We know that it does not take everyone on Earth to
bring justice and peace, but only a small, determined group who will not
give up during the first, second, or hundredth gale. One of the
most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world
is to stand up and show your soul. Soul on deck shines like gold in dark
times. The light of the soul throws sparks, can send up flares, builds
signal fires, causes proper matters to catch fire. To display the lantern of
soul in shadowy times like these - to be fierce and to show mercy toward
others; both are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity. Struggling
souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it.
If you would help to calm the tumult, this is one of the strongest things
you can do. There will
always be times when you feel discouraged. I too have felt despair many
times in my life, but I do not keep a chair for it. I will not entertain it.
It is not allowed to eat from my plate. The reason is
this: In my uttermost bones I know something, as do you. It is that there
can be no despair when you remember why you came to Earth, who you serve,
and who sent you here. The good words we say and the good deeds we do are
not ours. They are the words and deeds of the One who brought us here. In
that spirit, I hope you will write this on your wall: When a great ship is
in harbor and moored, it is safe, there can be no doubt. But that is not
what great ships are built for. By
Clarissa Pinkola Estes
American
poet, post-trauma specialist and Jungian psychoanalyst,
author of Women Who Run With the Wolves.