Everything, Everywhere, All At Once

Everything seems to be happening all at once. 

On April 14 (a week ago since writing this), Blue Origin launched a polished marketing activation for their space travel endeavors — an 11-minute trip to space, dressed up as a symbol of progress. An all-female crew, touted as a triumph of gender equity. An inspiration!  A marketing campaign that felt eerily detached from reality. We witnessed a spectacle in a time of scarcity — we’re sold progress in the form of PR stunts while the foundational pillars of society crumble beneath us. It’s late-stage capitalism and modern imperialism wrapped in gold foil and launched into orbit for us to consume on social media.

Perry floated by the Blue Origin camera to share her setlist for her Lifetimes world tour. Inspiring stuff for humankind.

For those of us with our feet firmly planted on terra firma in the United States, we see something else happening. 

Ignoring the Constitution. 

Dismantling education.

Stripping away rights with wanton disregard.

Shrinking access to healthcare and social safety nets for our most vulnerable.

Watching the bills of daily life soar while public trust and economic markets tank.

And there it was: the perfect metaphor for this moment in America. The rich are literally leaving the planet while most are living paycheck to paycheck.

Last week, I rereleased the testimonial interview I had with Holocaust survivor Ben Lesser. His story is one of unimaginable horror—and unwavering strength. But it’s not just history. It’s not just his story. The mirror Ben holds up in this conversation is not just to the past. It’s to us, right now.

We are beyond the question “could it happen here?” (One might argue it’s always been here…)

Meanwhile, our Black and Brown sisters and brothers — those who have always known what injustice looks like—are once again asking, Where were you when we warned you?

And then came the news: Pope Francis died.

I was raised Catholic, and while I don’t practice, table-flipping Pharisee shading Jesus is etched onto my bones. I felt the loss of Pope Francis more than I expected. In the complexity of faith and institution, Francis moved the Church toward humility, equity, and care. He served others until his final moments. He called out greed. He stood with the marginalized. And he warned of the danger of our indifference.

I believe we in the United States are now reaping the consequences of our mass indifference.

We’ve been distracted into comfort, overwhelmed into silence. We hear it - the belief that we can’t make change. “We’re cooked” or “it’s over”  is a sentiment I see and hear far too often.

But here’s what I believe to be true: Hope is not a plan. Despair is not a solution. Indifference is not neutral.

So, what are we choosing?

I know it’s a lot. We’re tired, grieving, surviving.  And by the time you read this, more will have happened. And even in the midst of all of it, there is still a flame.

There’s a flame inside each of us, lit by the spark of divine nature . Steady. Quiet. It carries the memory of who we are and who we are meant to be. It cannot be extinguished by fear or fatigue or broken systems. It waits for us to notice. And when we feed it—through courage, community, action, and care—it grows. It connects to the flames in others. It becomes a wildfire of belonging, of love, of hope rooted in action.

We cannot wait for perfect systems or saviors. We must choose to show up. To risk. To love. To bear witness. To care. To act.

This isn’t someone else’s society. This isn’t someone else’s planet. It is ours. We must believe that we belong to each other, that community extends beyond arbitrary borders on maps.

We are not powerless. We are not alone. Do not look away.

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“Some day, after we have mastered the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love; and then for the second time in the history of the world, humanity will have discovered fire.” - Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, Catholic Jesuit priest

xoxo,

Meghan