A few days ago I read the words of a public figure wrestling openly with a question many of us are quietly holding. With America approaching 250 years, he asked whether celebration is the right response when so much of what we see feels like a departure from what we understand as the values this nation was founded on. If the direction of things continues, is it time to look for a new home?
I sat with that question. Not to argue with it, but to look at it through a different lens.
In Zen practice there is a concept called beginner’s mind. It means approaching what we think we already understand as if we are encountering it for the first time. Without conclusions already loaded. Without the weight of what we expect to see.
What if we brought that quality of attention to this moment in history?
Yin and yang teach us that apparent opposites are not enemies. They are one process, moving. We know peace because we have known its absence. We recognize justice because we have felt its withdrawal. The discomfort of this moment is not separate from the wisdom it carries. It is part of the same unfolding.
What I am pointing at is equanimity — a steadiness of mind that neither clings to what is pleasant nor pushes away what is difficult. Equanimity is not indifference. It does not ask us to look away. It asks us to meet what is actually here without adding the weight of catastrophe or the paralysis of despair.
There is something else worth considering. Many of us were raised to understand America as the destination. The final answer. The place where the story ends in freedom. That is a small container for a very large life.
What happens when we loosen that grip, even slightly? When we allow ourselves to belong not just to a nation, but to something larger — a human community, a living planet, a cosmos that was unfolding long before any border was drawn?
This is not an argument for leaving or staying. It is an invitation to hold what we love with open hands. Life does not always move according to our preferences. Moment by moment it unfolds, with or without our approval.
The question is not whether America is worth celebrating. The question is whether we are willing to be present to what is actually here, in all its complexity, without needing it to be other than it is.
“Right now, it is like this.”
That is not resignation. It is the beginning of clear seeing. And from that stillness, whatever action is needed becomes possible.
— Jan
Jan Wood is an author, mindfulness guide, and lover of life, based in Baker City, Oregon. Through Prem Valley Mindfulness, she offers personalized mindfulness coaching grounded in practical, everyday practice — for those navigating stress, chronic illness, or simply the beautiful complexity of being human. If you are curious about working together or exploring the daily practices offered on the site, she would be glad to hear from you at premvalleymindfulness.com.
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