Being a Sangha in Unsettled Times – Learning to Love the World

An essay adapted from a talk given by Carol Russell, October 7, 2025

We often acknowledge sangha as one of the three jewels, one of the places we can go to for refuge. What does it mean for the sangha to be a refuge – especially when the world around you may feel less safe? Is the sangha a sanctuary, a place blessedly free of outside concerns? A place for finding sympathetic support for practice?  A place for enduring spiritual friendship?  What role does the sangha play if we feel called by our ethical practice to engage with the suffering we see in the world around us? 

The message of these teachings is that it is possible to have a heart free of greed, hatred, and delusion. I find walking this path gives my life a deep sense of meaning – which could be summed up in many ways. One way I have been reflecting on this meaning is that I am developing my heart, I am learning how to love the world. There is depth and breadth to this practice of learning how to love the world. 

What the Buddha taught is a love that is directed unconditionally toward all beings. Not because of how they are, but simply because they are. This is a tall order these days when I am surrounded by news of hateful acts, unimaginable loss, and devastating suffering. 

The media bombards us with suffering. As Diana Clark, one of the teachers on my recent retreat, points out, with our easy access to media, you could easily be in touch with suffering all day. It can be very challenging to be discerning of what we expose ourselves to, what opens our hearts yet doesn’t undermine our sense of our fundamental humanity.

That is why this is a practice, something I feel I must attend to if I wish to learn to love the world. 

Because 
by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

So I can’t save the world--
can’t save even myself,
can’t wrap my arms around
every frightened child, can’t
foster peace among nations,
can’t bring love to all who
feel unlovable.
So I practice opening my heart
right here in this room and being gentle
with my insufficiency. I practice
walking down the street heart first.
And if it is insufficient to share love,
I will practice loving anyway.
I want to converse about truth,
about trust. I want to invite compassion
into every interaction.
One willing heart can’t stop a war.
One willing heart can’t feed all the hungry.
And sometimes, daunted by a task too big,
I tell myself what’s the use of trying?
But today, the invitation is clear:
to be ridiculously courageous in love.
To open the heart like a lilac in May,
knowing freeze is possible
and opening anyway.
To take love seriously.
To give love wildly.
To race up to the world
as if I were a puppy,
adoring and unjaded,
stumbling on my own exuberance.
To feel the shock of indifference,
of anger, of cruelty, of fear,
and stay open. To love as if it matters,
as if the world depends on it.

This poem so beautifully expresses the call I feel to keep my heart open in the face of what is unfolding around me.  It acknowledges I can’t fix everything, I can’t ‘save every frightened child, can’t foster peace among nations.’ But I can practice being ‘ridiculously courageous in love.’ 

Keeping my heart open. One of the great benefits of mindfulness practice is building the capacity to be with what is arising inside. All those uncomfortable and disowned parts are gently allowed to surface, ‘the unfinished business of the heart,’ Jack Kornfield calls it. I don’t want to speak for everyone here, but I find this is a slow process, because I’m overcoming decades of expertly avoiding discomfort. 

Why would I want to turn toward suffering? Because that’s where freedom lies – not in the suffering itself, but in the capacity to be open to it. 

With all the suffering around us, how do you respond? Are you enraged? Are you scared? Are you deeply saddened? Are you numb? Are you each of those at different times? I want to validate that the responses we have to the pain of the world are real and wholesome. They show we are ‘hearing the cries of the world,’ as Thich Nhat Hanh encourages us to do. When the heart meets suffering, compassion is the natural response. For me, the pain I feel for the world is a sign I am connected to that river of compassionate care that flows in me, and in all of us.

Being willing to acknowledge and feel whatever is arising for me is liberating. If I am fearless in the face of what is unfolding, I can stand in solidarity with goodness. What is it like to walk through the world radiating good will? What is it like ‘to love as if it matters, as if the world depends on it,’ as the poet writes.

So, if my responses to the suffering of the world are wholesome and worthy, how do I then act? 

I want to make it clear that it’s always important to have good boundaries. Keeping my heart open doesn’t mean allowing myself to be harmed or overwhelmed. There are factions of our society that promote ill will. With clear boundaries, I am valuing myself, maintaining a sense of dignity, self-respect, and equanimity. This is essential.

In learning to love the world, some of us might find an inner question arising about our ethical responsibility in the face of what is happening around us, our ethical duty to the suffering we see. We may feel moved to act for the betterment of others. What might that look like? 
Both Mark and Kenn have given talks recently about the path of engaged Buddhism. I hope those talks have been helpful in understanding action that is rooted in the teachings of kindness, compassion, and care.

I’d like to offer that how we express our compassion for the suffering we see, how we serve what we care about, is very individual, very personal. What you feel called to do may be very different from what the person sitting next to you chooses to do. 

On my retreat, Brian Lesage offered a metaphor for this that touched me deeply. He said the horrors we are facing are like houses on fire. It is wholesome to put out the fires. There are those of us who will be working very hard to put out the fires. It is equally important that we not start more houses on fire. There are those of us who will be working very hard to help prevent more houses from catching on fire. 

Learning to love the world doesn’t mean one or the other, putting out fires or preventing fires. Sometimes, when one is seen as not putting out fires, they are perceived as not helping. Let’s be clear: both are ways of tending to the well-being of the world, both are needed. 

The time of the Buddha was very violent, more violent than the times we are living in now. He saw this and wanted to prevent fires, fires that he discerned were caused by greed, hatred, and delusion. You might be quietly serving in the community. You might ask yourself: how many fires were prevented today by my actions?  Never underestimate the power of small acts of goodness. The effects ripple out in unseen and mysterious ways. 

The Buddha, in sending his awakened disciples into the world, said to them: ‘Go forth on your journey, for the benefit of the many, for the joy of the many, out of compassion for the welfare, and the benefit and joy of all beings.’  What a beautiful instruction on how to serve the world. 

Returning to the questions I posed at the beginning: What does it mean to be a sangha in unsettled times? What does the sangha as refuge mean to you– especially when the world around may feel less safe? Is the sangha a sanctuary, a place free of outside concerns? A place for finding sympathetic support for practice?  A place of spiritual friendship?  Is the sangha a place where you learn about and practice the skills that help you respond to suffering in yourself and in the world?  What role does the sangha play if you feel passionately called to respond to the suffering you see? How should the sangha respond? Is the sangha a place to be restored and inspired, so your engaged actions are guided by good will? 

It is worthwhile contemplating these questions. I don’t expect agreement or consensus. There’s no right answer. I expect that in a vibrant and thoughtful community like this one, there may be different ways of seeing this subject. And yet, our sangha will continue to be as it is, always doing our best to draw a big circle and welcome everyone who is interested in being a part of this path.


May we each be an instrument of service to our own awakening, to the sangha, and to the wider world, in whatever way we feel we are drawn to serve.