Why me? Why not?

It’s a question that comes across whiny. But how many of us haven’t asked it—at least silently.

Why me?

Why was I born into this family? Why was I born in these circumstances? Why did this accident or misfortune (or even this good fortune) happen to me? Why should I be the one to speak up when injustice is going down? Why should I be the one to take the lead?

Of all the others it could have been… why me?

Some people think gods or astrology or fate or karma is responsible for such things. And I can’t say for sure that they’re wrong or claim that I haven’t wrestled with these ideas myself.

Image via Pixabay

We also look at someone else, whether in misfortune or good fortune and ask ourselves why it is that person. It is comforting when misfortune happens to those we see making poor choices and when good fortune comes to those we see working diligently toward it. That seems to confirm our wish that life should be “fair.”

But far too often the opposite is what actually happens. People who deserve it least do have accidents or other misfortune, and there are plenty of lazy and uncouth people among the wealthy.

But this isn’t just a question about the fickle nature of chance. We ask this question at least as often when it comes to why someone should take up a responsibility or step into a role. This is not chance, but rather an active decision—one that many people could make but most choose not to. If you have never seen a great need for action and asked, “Why should I be the one to handle this?" you probably aren’t paying enough attention?

I wonder if Greta Thunberg asked herself why she of all people should go out and protest alone, since no one else was doing it at the time. I don’t know if she questioned. It needed to be done, so she did it. But maybe she wrestled with doubts too.

Three years ago, I had an intense spiritual year in which I was called to follow in the footsteps of the Irish goddess Brighid. I continue to do so as best I can.

I didn’t ask “why me” at the time. It seemed reasonable. She is a goddess of making crafts, poetry and healing, and in a more ancient sense, she is a goddess of social justice. She is generally seen as a nurturing hearth goddess, but she has been known to ride out to do battle with greed or tyranny when no one else is available. And that is much the way I am, so it seemed natural that I might be called to her.

But now there is often an answer to my “why me”. thoughts. The answer is often, “because you are mine and you agreed to this path.” And so I did.

While Brighid doesn’t have the harsh reputation of the Morrigan or Hekate or Kali, this path isn’t easy. It entails a lot of quietly tending a hearth, providing for and nurturing while others go out and do things with great purpose. It doesn’t get a lot of thanks or recognition.

And when I finally am called to some great purpose—to take a stand for justice—it is always a lonely stand, usually standing up for those who can’t speak for themselves or signaling a need for healing, which is not always welcome.

In such times, I do sometimes want to whine, “Why me?” Why should I be the one to serve others? Why should I be the only one to stand up for an unpopular truth or put out this or that fire. So, here it is.

Why not?

That is the question I should ask, not just in my decisions but also in those matters of chance. Why was I born legally blind? Well, why exactly not? Things happen.

Why was I born in a country whose language has taken over the world, mostly through unjust colonization, while my ESL students have to spend years learning that language in order to have a professional career? Why not?

Sometimes there is an answer to that question, such as “Because no one should be so automatically privileged.” And that gives us the reason that the question. “Why me?” is rarely helpful, but “Why not?” is sometimes a useful question to ponder.

When I found the ecological justice movement Extinction Rebellion, I know it was Brighid’s answer to my prayers for purpose and some call beyond the endless hearth-tending. And so, I went with it and gladly took the roles in the local group which are marked on Brighid’s path. I organized the healers, both by putting together first aid kits and training medics but also by working with crisis psychologists to set up a team for psychological support. I brought lots of cake, and when necessary, learned to make vegan food. I helped the writers and press spokespeople get set up.

But when the most vulnerable are denied a voice and no one else stands up, I want to yell, “Why me?” and I hear it… a warm chuckle, “Why not?”

This is how I get into these messes.