You know that scene in Men in Black where the alien in his Edgar-suit, pretending to be a waiter, finds Rosenburg in the diner? Rosenburg, intent on his conversation, realizes what’s happening only when the “waiter” extends a hand holding a plate and huge cockroaches crawl out of his shirtsleeve.

That scene makes my skin crawl.

I do not tolerate roaches well. I’m fine with snakes. Spiders frighten me (from my time in Arizona, where black widows were common). But roaches… Shudder.

Last night I dreamt of roaches.

It was an apocalyptic dream, with volcanoes exploding, rivers flooding, deep snowfall where snow never falls, and deserts where there were once rainforests. The house were I had taken refuge was no safe harbor. I saw a huge evil-looking bug on the floor near the door and extended my hand to turn the knob and let him out.

And saw three more bugs on my wrist.

And had my usual screaming reaction, shaking my wrist to free myself. As I shook and shuddered, more bugs slid down my sleeve onto my wrist, and more and more. Until I was overwhelmed and stood, frozen like a pillar of salt my arm outstretched, as bugs poured in a waterfall down my sleeve, more and more.

I stood mind-numbed until the cascade ended, bugs piled two feet high at my feet.

This dream is about the world as it is now.

There is so much information out there. Some of it wants to be helpful. Some of it just purports to be helpful, for the benefit of others, who want us to believe things about them or do things that they want us to do. Some of it we search out. Some finds us, whether we like it or not. Some is accurate. Some is patently false either because of sloppiness, or deception, or laziness.

Some of it contradicts everything we’ve believed to be true for our whole lives.

Or at least as long as we’ve thought about it.

It’s a good time to remember circle of control, circle of influence, circle of concern.

The circle of control is the smallest circle. It contains our actions. What we can do ourselves. What we choose to consume, how we choose to spend our time. What we spend our money on, or eat. Who we associate with. What we say and do about others. What we choose to feel anger or grief or indignation about.

One of my favorite Buddhist sayings ends,

“My actions are my only true possessions. I cannot escape the consequences of my actions. My actions are the path on which I walk.”

That is our circle of control. It is as small as the head of a pin and as large as the span of our life.

It is there when we awaken, when we move through our day, interacting with others, all the way until we go to sleep. It is there when we open our wallet, or look at our phone, or forget someone’s birthday, or complain to a stranger on the bus. It is there when we criticize others to make ourselves feel better about ourselves.

And it is there when we extend a hand to those in need.

It is the path we leave behind us when we go.

Our circle of influence is slightly larger than our circle of control.

I see this as the consequences of the actions I take.

By choosing kindness instead of anger, I have the opportunity to influence others. By taking the action to leave on time or take our lunch instead of working through it, I set an example for those who look to me for leadership and who may not have as much structural power.

By working the election polls, I make it easier for people to vote, encouraging the use of this right. By speaking up at a community meeting, I let local politicians know that there are people in the neighborhood who oppose the proposed casino and encourage others to use their own voices to share their opinions.

By praising the work of someone who is attempting a positive change in the world, I encourage them to keep going through the challenges, and I encourage others to make the effort.

Maybe these things will make a change in the world, maybe they won’t. That’s not my concern.

My job in the circle of influence is to create a space where there is a possibility for change.

The largest circle is the circle of concern.

This circle contains everything else out there. The new climate reality and the people and animals harmed by it. The cruelty of powerful governments who have seized power without the will of the people. The waves of refugees wanting to make a better life for themselves and their children.

The loneliness epidemic, especially among the elderly and the teens. The encouragement of the use of AI for frivolous purposes at the expense of the environment and mental health. The death of science and facts and reason and the health risks that causes for all of us: the rise of congenital syphilis and measles, diseases once banished from “civilized” nations, and childbirth mortality.

Decisions made by politicians that I didn’t elect and who only listen to the inner whisper of their unhappiness telling them that if they just had a little more power and a little more, until they have all the power, that the pain will end. Doing their best to make everyone else as miserable as they are themselves.

And the fear and frailty of other leaders, politicians and judges, corporate leaders, educational leaders, who give up doing what they know is right out of greed or fear of fear itself.

There are huge concerns in the world right now, scary concerns.

Many of these things, it seems we can’t do anything about. How can one person stop a glacier from melting or help the Blue Whales sing again?

But break these problems down, and we can do something about them.

We can’t control global warming but we can choose to put solar on the roof and buy an electric car. To replace our gas stove with induction. To not use AI lazily to create slop or grocery lists or stupid illustrations that look just like the stupid illustrations that everyone else is using. Or give in to the latest fad that tells us we need more clothes when our closets are full, ordered online and shipped to us in individual boxes.

We can’t control the anger and fear in the world, but we can choose not to participate in it. We can choose to continue to do business with people who look and sound and love differently than us and welcome them into our communities, even if they worship differently than we do or choose not to worship at all. We can pay attention to what our children are learning (or not learning) about history and current affairs in school, and take the time to reframe and encourage thinking and questioning and reading.

We can vote, even if we don’t believe that our one little vote makes a difference, that the system is rigged, that it’s a pain the neck, that we might have to wait in line and it’s hot, that there may be scary masked men in unmarked uniforms lurking about waiting for an opportunity to grab people who don’t look Anglo.

We can have the courage and the fortitude to exercise our circles of control and influence.

And that is what I think this dream was telling me.

To practice letting my circle of concern flow past me, like the beetles down my sleeve or thoughts when I meditate, and not get caught up with the reaction that they want us to have: Oh no, do you see what they’ve done now?!?

Just focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

Of the steps I can control and the influence those steps can have.

And that may bring the change I want to see.