Breathing Our Way Into Justice

Take a breath. And another.

This moment, this life—we didn’t earn it. It is a gift.

Howard Thurman once said, “Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive… because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

Mindfulness may not seem fierce enough for dismantling systemic racism. But in truth, it offers a radical foundation—an inner discipline that sustains outer transformation.

It starts with seeing clearly. Mindfulness reveals our inherited judgments and biases, the filters that shape the way we see the world. As Cheryl A. Giles writes in Black and Buddhist, “The First Noble Truth invites us to welcome our wounds and meet our suffering with courage and compassion.” This inner meeting prepares us to meet the wounds of the world.

It teaches us to respond instead of react. To act from truth, not ego. From presence, not performance. Compassion grows. Thurman reminds us, “Community cannot feed for long on itself; it can only flourish with the coming of others from beyond, their unknown and undiscovered brothers.”

We learn to listen deeply—without defense, without rushing to fix. We discover our deep interconnection. Systemic racism thrives on the illusion of separation, but mindfulness insists: your liberation is bound up with mine. Thurman calls it “an unrecognized kinship” waiting to be embraced.

This work will be uncomfortable. It will stir fear, shame, and confusion. Pamela Ayo Yetunde writes, “When there is space around the difficulty, we have agency.” Mindfulness gives us that space.

It will not dismantle racism alone. But it can keep us awake. It can keep us clear. It can help us love more deeply and act with courage and integrity.

So take another breath. Let it root you. Let it soften you. Let it wake you up.

As Giles reminds us, “We are complex: we are not just filled with pain and rage but with well-being… we attend to both.”

That is where the work begins.