That was certainly the case for me last week. But though I’m back on track now, some might wonder where I’m headed.

I’ve been standing in defiance of our new administration and continuing to volunteer at Casa Alitas (welcome center and clinic for asylum seekers) and Humane Borders (which provides water stations in the desert). Two days after the passing of the presidential baton, the welcome center was pretty deserted and word has it they will probably be shuttered soon.

My guess is that clandestine border crossings will continue, which are more dangerous because of extreme temperatures and ruthless coyotes. This week another Humane Borders volunteer and I went to check on the water stations in Ajo near Organ Pipe National Monument. Two of the barrels had been shot up and drained by vigilantes whose misinformation led them to extremes of hatred.

But while I’m motivated by compassion, the universe may be trying to tell me to use caution. It is discouraging to be subjected to danger in the process of volunteering. On my way home from Ajo, driving through a desolate stretch of the Tohono O’odham reservation pothole ridden highway, I blew out a tire on my rental car. Without cell signal, and miles from a service station, I tried not to panic. Thankfully a tribal police officer stopped to help me put on the spare and I drove home. The damage to the rental car tire is costing me over $700.

I’m tired. Still, It’s heartbreaking how many desperate people worldwide are trying to get to a safe place, which happens to be the US. My thinking was there’s plenty of good work to be done without having to leave the country. So I chose Tucson for its combination of need and unrivaled desert beauty. I’m still hoping to visit the repatriation center in Nogales, Mexico where migrants are in immigration limbo—deported and unable to afford, or are exiled by their own governments from returning home.

I try to surround myself with people who are lighting that one lonely candle rather than cursing the darkness. Today the Humane Borders volunteers picked up garbage along the migrant trail—an act of good will to show concern for the environmental impact of migration.

I joined a group who sang songs of peace at the Quaker meeting on MLK’s birthday. There’s a Buddhist man I met who’s living an intentional ascetic life in his van and spends hours meditating daily. Some might say he’s got mental health issues. I think he puts me to shame in terms of moral courage.
I try to start each day with meditation or centering prayer. There’s a labyrinth at my favorite neighborhood park and some nearby desert hikes which enhance mindfulness and peace as well.

But above all, I greet each day with gratitude for my warm cozy home, relative health, and exceptional fortune.

We cannot all do great things, but we can do small things with great love. — Mother Teresa