Being the Change, Being of Service
Recently, at an interfaith community gathering, I was asked what the phrase "be the change you want to see in the world" means to me. I want to highlight the word be, for it's not simply a call to external action, but a call that links our action to being—for doing and being must not be separate.
In this sense, I think of Thomas Merton, the great North American theologian and mystic, who was deeply engaged in interfaith dialogue. Merton immersed himself in the study of Tibetan and Zen Buddhism, even travelling to Asia to learn from spiritual leaders in their own contexts.
Despite spending most of his life as a cloistered monk, committed to silence, prayer, and contemplation, Merton did not remove himself from the world’s affairs. He became a profound voice in the political spheres of the Western Hemisphere, speaking out on issues of peace, civil rights, and nuclear disarmament.
Merton stated that “contemplation is the spring, and action is the stream” to maintain that contemplative, meditative, and reflective insight must not end at the meditation cushion or the hermitage, but spring to life in order to be embodied in the world. He believed that contemplation, rather than being an escape from the world, deeply informs how we engage with it.
Merton was clear that a purely inward, self-focused contemplation that ignores the suffering and injustice in the world is a “spiritual illusion”, a bypass, a deception, a waste and can even be sinful if it means avoiding the burden of the times we live in.
This alignment of being and action is crucial because, in the end, we can only offer what we have cultivated within. Our presence, shaped by our inner life, impacts how we engage with the world. If our inner life is contracted, confused and in conflict, then the presence does not have room to breathe outwardly and appears dim beneath the surface.
If our inner life is vast and reflective, then that presence takes up more space and has a radiant quality. If our hearts are filled with peace, love, and compassion, our actions will naturally reflect these qualities. If, on the other hand, we are distracted, disconnected, or consumed by fear and anger, then this, too, will seep into the world around us.
The world reflects back to us our internal states. Just like that old adage says: if you want the mirror to smile, first, you must smile—and then the mirror smiles back. If we desire a world rooted in love, wisdom, and compassion, then we must embody these qualities ourselves. If you want love, you have to find it first in your heart. If you want happiness, you must discover that it is never external to you. If you want freedom, it is not something found in the world but rather from the world.
When everything we rely on externally—social status, material possessions, validation—inevitably topples and falls, we are forced to confront a deeper truth that the foundations of true peace, freedom, and happiness all lie within. This is the inner being that remains unshaken, regardless of the turbulence or instability of external circumstances. True freedom is found when we are no longer bound by the world’s ever-changing tides, but grounded in the stillness of our own essential nature.
Take Nelson Mandela, who spent 27 years imprisoned under the harshest conditions of South Africa's apartheid regime—isolated for much of his detention at Robben Island, a place of extreme physical and psychological hardship—and somehow emerged without bitterness.
Despite the suffering and injustice he faced, Mandela famously chose forgiveness over resentment. He once said, “As I walked out the door toward the gate that would lead to my freedom, I knew if I didn’t leave my bitterness and hatred behind, I’d still be in prison.” This power of forgiveness and peace that Mandela cultivated within himself allowed him to lead a nation toward reconciliation, rather than revenge.
And then there is someone like Viktor Frankl, a neurologist, psychiatrist, and Holocaust survivor, who was detained in Auschwitz and other concentration camps during World War II. Frankl spent three years in these camps, witnessing unimaginable suffering. Yet, he emerged with a powerful understanding of the human spirit, which he eloquently captured in his seminal work, Man’s Search for Meaning. Frankl wrote, "Everything can be taken from a (hu)man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way." Despite the external horrors, he emphasised that one's inner world could remain free.
For me, this means living in alignment with the values and truths I hold dear—presence, wisdom, humility. It involves tending to the quiet, internal work of transformation so that I can meet the world with integrity, offering a lived example rather than just words or ideals. Like the sound of a bell, the ripples of personal practice and investigation echo outward beyond me, resonating with those I encounter and with the world at large. Because, ultimately, the world as I experience it is within my being—and that involves both me and the world in action. But action by itself is not enough unless it is consecrated on the altar of being.
