It's going to have to be love
Also: The Lead is taking a break
Every Wednesday morning, I gather with a few dozen leaders from around the BCW global network, where I serve as chief culture officer, for our drop-in Midweek Mindfulness Practice. Normally, this session consists of a brief meditation and group discussion on a weekly theme. But last week we were gathering in the wake of yet another horrific school shooting in the States. Not normal at all—or so I’d like to think.
That morning, the group was somber and I myself was on the verge of tears. What could we possibly say, what could we possibly do, to meet this nightmare of a moment skillfully and with compassion? There were no immediate answers to these questions.
So we said nothing. We did nothing. We sat together in silence for 21 minutes to honor each of the precious lives lost at Robb Elementary. And afterward, I knew that had been the most skillful choice.
We know, of course, that silence is in some ways the opposite of what’s needed. We need to rally together. We need to make our voices heard. We need to move to action.
But we also need space to feel, space to heal. We are devastated. We are afraid. We are raging. While these emotions can spur powerful reactions, they are not enough to sustain the momentum we need to achieve real results, meaningful change.
We can’t afford to stop, but we must learn how to pause.
We can’t afford to be patient, but we must pace ourselves.
We can’t afford to close our eyes, but we must envision a better future.
The conditions that created this tragedy (and the previous week’s at a grocery in Buffalo… and before that at a California church…) have been slowly, methodically ingrained in American culture for decades, even centuries. To break this cycle is going to take deep and dedicated work. It’s going to take unshakable resolve and unbreakable bonds.
Because it’s going to feel impossible.
Devastation depletes us. Fear shuts us down. Rage burns us out. They’re just not enough for what lies ahead.
If we’re going to keep going, it’s going to have to be love that drives us. Love for our children, for our neighbors. Maybe even love for our enemies. Most of all, love for this life.
Which brings us back to the beginning: Why silence? Why stillness?
Because it’s easy to forget love. It’s easy, in the fast-paced world we work in, to forget we’re even alive.
We have to make the space to remember. To remember what really matters.
It’s going to have to be love.
Speaking of silence and space, The Lead is going on summer hiatus. It will likely look different when it returns—if it returns. Some big shifts are underway over here, and I’m building something new I’m excited to share with you. Stay tuned, I’ll pop into your inbox with an update in late June or July.
In the meantime, take good care—of your team, of your loved ones, of yourself. Close your eyes. Take a breath. Feel your feelings. Hold thoughts lightly. Rest. Live. Be.
The work will still be there. And if it’s work that’s worthy of you, you’re going to want to be at your best.