My Meditation Class this morning focused on the bad news raging all around us; we talked about ways to insulate ourselves from anger and division.

It was another powerful meeting, and it triggered a great deal of thought in me when I got home and did my meditation.

I had to figure out my place in this angry world, not for the residents, but for me.

We had a wonderful talk about being grounded, and I thank the class for inspiring me to go home, meditate myself and try to understand where I belong in this simmering world.

I needed to meditate alone.

In recent weeks, I was worn down by the terrible things that happen every day that we hear about all day long and through the night.

I started wondering whether the little and small things I do daily make much sense or do much good.

It’s different to avoid the flow of bad news; it is everywhere, all the time.

I had an awful panic attack Sunday, triggered by a number of things. It opened me up, as panic attacks do. A panic attack is like a heart attack in many ways; it often triggers rebirth and renewal.

Good things can come of it, light follows darkness.

I think to be prepared for whatever is coming and seal off my heart and soul from anger, judgment, and rage. I want to continue working for small acts of great kindness, not great acts of profound change.

“Not all of us can do great things,” said Mother Teresa, “but we can all do small things with great love.” I love that quote.

All over the world and in our own country, people are homeless, hungry, living in rage and grievance, fighting wars,  fleeing climate change, learning how to hate, and questioning freedom.

Innocent civilians, including children and the elderly, are being slaughtered daily in Ukraine. An 82-year-old man savagely attacked in his own him in the middle of the night is ridiculed and made the object of lies and conspiracies.

Our leaders have mostly gone mad, unable to help their own followers or us any longer.

I see a country that is losing its common moral values, including truth and empathy, and replacing them with hatred and lies.

In my own kind of faith, hatred and lies are immoral and will one day and in one way or another be punished. I see people who hate and lie as broken victims of a broken world.

They live in a kind of hell of their own making, which will burn them and others. I’ve never seen or known a hateful person who knows happiness and love.

I see people who are truthful and merciful as the angels of our world. I don’t expect my faith to be embraced by anyone but me.

But it is my faith, and it is my guide when I need it. That is the gift of my spiritual work. I have a place in my heart to go.

I am resolved not to be sucked into the whirlwind of grievance and argument.

Organized religion, which taught honesty and mercy, seems to have imploded, its moral teachings in confusion and retreat worldwide.

Oddly enough, we were once the  Christian nation people want us to remain. But the very people who insist we remain a Christian nation seemed to want little or nothing to do with Christianity.

Jesus Christ would be horrified to return and see what has become of his pleas from the mount.

Sometimes I feel helpless.

But I am not powerless unless I choose to be, whatever happens.

I have my calling. it is unique to me.

Helping the needy is as much of a war as I need. But it is a battle in almost every sense of the world. I like the idea of being a warrior for good.

“Miss no single opportunity of making some small sacrifice,” wrote St. Therese of Lisieux, “here by a smiling look, there by a kindly word, always doing the smallest right and doing it all for love.”

It’s an awful time, a painful time, a frightening time.

If I am not careful, these daily considerations and anger, this bombardmen-horrendous terrible news for profit, this increasingly bleak sense of the future can paralyze and depress me.

I don’t intend to let that happen. I have been working hard for years to develop a spiritual dimension to my life based on my ideas about God and faith.

My spiritual work has taken me far and done me good. How will it hold up now and in the coming years? I’ll know soon enough. I live in the present.

The spiritual prophets I listen to say the idea of the call becomes increasingly essential.

I am not called to save the world or change it.

I am not called to heal the divisions in my country; I am not called to end hatred and cruelty that is spreading everywhere in our communities.

I can’t help all people or even many.

But I am called and have a unique call to me and my faith.

I have a call in my family, community, the Mansion, Bishop Gibbons High School, my work, my farm, my work with animals, my photography, my blog, my wife, and my world.

I keep asking my idea of God what my call is now and to give me the strength to live out that call with trust and honor.

I am called to St. Teresa’s plea for us to focus on the little things, to do good in a small way, whatever is possible to help the needy and vulnerable in my reach, sight, and consciousness.

“I want to love you like a little child,” wrote St.Therese, “I want to battle like a warrior bold.”

I believe that my faithfulness to small tasks and little ways is the most healing and spiritual response to the troubles of our time.

I will do what I can do for as long as I can do it. I will keep on working to love and not to hate.

That’s my call. That’s my meditation.

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The photo above is of Annie, a newcomer at the Mansion who came from London and is a new and valued student in my Meditation class. She worked for many years on Saville Row for a tailor who catered to the rich and famous and to the royal family. She also bred Labrador Retrievers.

She adores Zinnia.