Mother Mary Comforts Me

I woke this morning with the Beatles’ song “Let It Be” in my brain. There is no doubt we are living in times of trouble. We are all in need of words of wisdom—not the least of which are the instructions found in Lennon–McCartney’s song: “Let it be . . .”

My litany of woes seems inconsequential in the face of yet another school shooting, in the face of ongoing threats to the Constitution, in the face of climate cataclysm. Yet, “let it be” is something I want to incorporate into how I make meaning of these events.

That is not my first response in most cases. Most of the time, when faced with trouble, I want to push back, yell out, fight, and each and every time I have done that, I have ended up with little to show for it. Yet, time has a way of taking the sting out of any “trouble.” As time passes, things are easier to just let be.

Trouble Is a Relative Term

“Trouble” is a relative term. It carries its own definition depending on the individual, the circumstance, and perhaps most importantly, the expectation. I can say this with the certainty of all my 73 years, especially as I have experienced times of trouble more than once.

This week has seen a repetition of all kinds of troubles for all types of people. For those who lived through the experience, it may well have been a “first.” Sharing “Let it be!” with them may feel like a platitude, however sincerely delivered, but in the long term, the wisdom of letting things be experienced in the moment and not pushed away or ignored can bring relief.

Without question, first-timers who are dealing with loss, disappointment, and destruction are experiencing much more intense emotions. Telling them to just “let it be” may seem insensitive. They will need our love, support, and, yes, prayers, along with sturdier responses.

For those who have had prior experience with trouble, memories will be triggered. Days will follow when those tender spots are reawakened and the emotions felt again. For those who have had multiple exposures to these challenges—the first responders, the volunteers, the caregivers and therapists and healers—the skill sets and strategies developed to manage the situation while keeping the personal at arm’s length will be tested.

We Are All Connected

As John Donne wrote, “any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind.” This universal connection means we are all going to experience “trouble.” It will be uniquely ours, yet it will be familiar to thousands of others.

It will happen in our time, but there are endless examples of similar troubles found in history books and handed down through story.

It will find people unprepared, surprised, and righteous—with plenty of finger-pointing, blaming, shaming, and demanding change. And then we will go back to our lives.

A Call to Compassion

“Let it be . . .” isn’t an instruction to simply ignore or forget. It is a call to much higher action. It requires deep compassion, not just for ourselves, but also for those experiencing the trouble up close and personal. This compassion is demanded because we are all connected; we are all vulnerable to feeling unloved, unwanted, ashamed, and scared.

“Let it be” also applies to the more uplifting end of this continuum. It applies to the celebration of new life, to completing a project, to taking in acknowledgment and thanks after a job well done. The wisdom is the same.

Open-Heartedness

Letting it be is being open-hearted. Both in times of trouble and in times of gratitude. It is not a permanent state of bliss or all-knowingness. For me, it is fleeting—a mantra spoken to soothe me when I am anxious or angry, and a reminder to stay present and absorb the goodness and love coming my way.

It is a state of being that takes work to incorporate and takes constant reminders to keep awakened. It fluctuates both out of need and out of habit. And even though it fluctuates, it is always available.

My Meditation Teachers

I have two practitioners of the “let-it-be” school of meditation who live with me. After an intense week for me personally, they reminded me of the importance of keeping a routine. When I am aware of it, predictability is a very useful tool in lowering my anxiety about all the “what-ifs” that are in my life. Feeding times, bedtimes, and morning grooming all combine to take some of the randomness away. For me, this is soothing.

They also reminded me that no matter how righteous I get or how persistently I search for evidence that I am right, what matters most is that I find a place of forgiveness, so that resentment doesn’t turn to bitterness or anger to hate. It’s hard for me to stay angry when I have a cat purring in my lap or being silly and zooming around the room.

Taking Action

People I love who are hurting are also sharing in having another day. People I have never met, whose lives have been violently changed, are faced with reconstructing their lives. Some will struggle for a short while; others will carry their wounds for the rest of their lives.

I can be of support and service by offering a kind word, giving a hug or a smile, or sending money to agencies that respond to catastrophic events. I can offer my own words of wisdom.

The troubles in the world need attention. The wrongs need righting. I can take actions every day to address these, and, in fact, I have accepted that doing this kind of work is something that not only is part of my personality, but also is a task that aging adults have a greater duty to address.

We have been through all this before. We are living evidence that trouble isn’t something that is going away. We are living evidence that trouble can be survived. We need to share what we have learned, not in an attempt to “keep this from ever happening again,” but to offer assurance that, when it does happen, there are ways to get through times of darkness.