Engaged, Not Entangled
Walking Through the Fire
Liberation work is hard.
Download this PDF as a companion for your own Engaged Practice
Often, we don't see the impact of our efforts. And even when we do, the cost can be heavy: splintered relationships, financial insecurity, being pushed out of employment, incarcerated—or even killed. Bearing witness to violence, abandonment, and systemic harm leaves marks on your psyche and your nervous system. Burnout, PTSD, C-PTSD, moral injury, compassion fatigue, secondary trauma—these are not abstract terms. They live in the body. They shape how we sleep, how we show up, how we hold each other, and how long we can keep going.
In today's post, I want to share how I stay spiritually grounded amid some of the traumas I've witnessed—sitting with someone as they take their final breath in hospice care, witnessing a mass stabbing involving several participants in an incarcerated group I facilitate, or hearing graphic details as a survivor recount being sex trafficked by their priest as a child. Staying grounded has meant building a spiritual practice that can hold the weight of what I've seen and heard.
These experiences stay with me—and I know they will for a long time. Combined with the daily pressures of life, they've pushed me into burnout more than once. I've experienced compassion fatigue. I live with PTSD, depression, and anxiety and struggled with alcohol abuse for much of my adult life. And still, I can't look away from suffering without engaging with it. I’ve had to unlearn, relearn, and build firm boundaries around what I can carry.
Spirituality
Spirituality can mean many things, but for our purposes, it refers to the embodied and relational process of connecting to something greater than the self. I've found the teachings of Siddhartha Gautama—the Buddha—deeply helpful in offering meaning, ethical grounding, and resilience in the face of suffering, impermanence, and interdependence.
I don't consider myself a devout Buddhist and honestly, even hesitate to use the label. I meditate in the Vipassana tradition and study core Buddhism concepts, but when I refer to myself a “Buddhist” in passing, it never fully resonates. My orientation is more accurately described as a socialist, humanist, cosmopolitan universalism. Still, I find deep resonance in Buddhist ethics centered on liberation, compassion, and commitment. That said, I want to be clear about what I mean by spirituality—and where I'm coming from.
Engaged and Entangled
It’s important to remember that trauma is not a competition. No one “wins” by carrying more pain, and no one is “less than” for carrying less. Trauma is trauma. As liberation practitioners, we must hold space for that truth with compassionate action and humility.
One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is the difference between being engaged and being entangled in this work.
To be engaged is to enter suffering with clarity, presence, and boundaries.
To be entangled is to lose your sense of self in the suffering—carried away by it, consumed by it, unable to find solid ground.
An analogy I often return to:
Jumping into a burning building.
Entangled is running in with no protective gear, no plan, no awareness of your limits—just desperation to help, even if it kills you.
Engaged is still jumping in—but with fireproof clothing, support from others, and a deep understanding of the risks.
Both are noble, but only one is sustainable. And only one leaves you able to support more people tomorrow.
Entanglement isn’t necessarily a choice. The conditions of our lives, poverty, systemic injustice, trauma, generational caretaking, and survival pressures entangle us whether we want them to or not. We can’t always pause, retreat, or afford “self-care.” Even naming the entanglement can be an act of reclaiming agency. The point is not to shame entanglement but to recognize it, so we can begin to reclaim our energy, restore our boundaries, and remember that we are not the fire. We are the ones walking through it.
This distinction has been essential for my survival and integrity in this work, and I continue to revisit it.
Three Concepts Grounded In Buddhism
The Five Remembrances
The Five Remembrances, from the Upajjhatthana Sutta, is a reflection practice on the nature of impermanence. They help me stay grounded in the reality of aging, illness, death, change, and responsibility.
I keep a paper slip by my bed, write them in my notebooks, carry a slip in my pocket, and read them daily—sometimes silently, sometimes aloud. When I need it, I turn to a simplified version that speaks directly to my heart.
The Five Remembrances (Traditional Translation)
I am of the nature to grow old. There is no way to escape growing old.
I am of the nature to have ill health. There is no way to escape having ill health.
I am of the nature to die. There is no way to escape death.
All that is dear to me and everyone I love is of the nature to change. There is no way to escape being separated from them.
My actions are my only true belongings. I cannot escape the consequences of my actions. My actions are the ground upon which I stand.
Simplified Version
I will grow old.
I will get sick.
I will die.
Everything and everyone I love will change and eventually be lost.
My actions are all I truly own.
The Fourteen Precepts of Engaged Buddhism
Engaged spirituality means applying spiritual teachings to everyday life—especially in service of justice, healing, and collective well-being. One example comes from Thích Nhất Hạnh’s Fourteen Precepts of Engaged Buddhism, which offers a powerful guide for living with deep social awareness and compassion.
Though rooted in Buddhism, these precepts can resonate with anyone seeking to align their values with their actions—whether in activism, caregiving, creative practice, or community work.
I keep copies of the precepts tucked into notebooks, on my desk, and folded in my bag. Some days, I’ll pick one at random to reflect on throughout the day. Other times, I read through all fourteen—especially before entering prison, hospice, or any environment where trauma, suffering, and vulnerability are especially present. Sometimes, I revisit a specific precept after a particularly heavy session or during research as a grounding reminder of my intentions and responsibilities.
Do not be idolatrous about or bound to any doctrine, theory, or ideology, even Buddhist ones. Buddhist systems of thought are guiding means; they are not absolute truth.
Do not think the knowledge you presently possess is changeless, absolute truth. Avoid being narrow minded and bound to present views. Learn and practice nonattachment from views in order to be open to receive others' viewpoints. Truth is found in life and not merely in conceptual knowledge. Be ready to learn throughout your entire life and to observe reality in yourself and in the world at all times.
Do not force others, including children, by any means whatsoever, to adopt your views, whether by authority, threat, money, propaganda, or even education. However, through compassionate dialogue, help others renounce fanaticism and narrow-mindedness.
Do not avoid suffering or close your eyes before suffering. Do not lose awareness of the existence of suffering in the life of the world. Find ways to be with those who are suffering, including personal contact, visits, images and sounds. By such means, awaken yourself and others to the reality of suffering in the world.
Do not accumulate wealth while millions are hungry. Do not take as the aim of your life fame, profit, wealth, or sensual pleasure. Live simply and share time, energy, and material resources with those who are in need.
Do not maintain anger or hatred. Learn to penetrate and transform them when they are still seeds in your consciousness. As soon as they arise, turn your attention to your breath in order to see and understand the nature of your hatred.
Do not lose yourself in dispersion and in your surroundings. Practice mindful breathing to come back to what is happening in the present moment. Be in touch with what is wondrous, refreshing, and healing both inside and around you. Plant seeds of joy, peace, and understanding in yourself in order to facilitate the work of transformation in the depths of your consciousness.
Do not utter words that can create discord and cause the community to break. Make every effort to reconcile and resolve all conflicts, however small.
Do not say untruthful things for the sake of personal interest or to impress people. Do not utter words that cause division and hatred. Do not spread news that you do not know to be certain. Do not criticise or condemn things of which you are not sure. Always speak truthfully and constructively. Have the courage to speak out about situations of injustice, even when doing so may threaten your own safety.
Do not use the Buddhist community for personal gain or profit, or transform your community into a political party. A religious community, however, should take a clear stand against oppression and injustice and should strive to change the situation without engaging in partisan conflicts.
Do not live with a vocation that is harmful to humans and nature. Do not invest in companies that deprive others of their chance to live. Select a vocation that helps realise your ideal of compassion.
Do not kill. Do not let others kill. Find whatever means possible to protect life and prevent war.
Possess nothing that should belong to others. Respect the property of others, but prevent others from profiting from human suffering or the suffering of other species on Earth.
Do not mistreat your body. Learn to handle it with respect. Do not look on your body as only an instrument. Preserve vital energies (sexual, breath, spirit) for the realisation of the Way. (For brothers and sisters who are not monks and nuns:) Sexual expression should not take place without love and commitment. In sexual relations, be aware of future suffering that may be caused. To preserve the happiness of others, respect the rights and commitments of others. Be fully aware of the responsibility of bringing new lives into the world. Meditate on the world into which you are bringing new beings.
— Thích Nhất Hạnh
The Bodhisattva Path
In archetypal psychology, myths reflect patterns of human experience we collectively carry. Archetypes—like the Hero, Shadow, or Jester—offer symbolic ways to understand our emotions, behaviors, and responses. They don’t need to be precisely named or categorized; they’re simply tools to help us frame our perspective. Recognizing which archetype is active in a given moment can support self-awareness, emotional regulation, and intentional self-care. This practice helps us stay grounded, balanced, and connected to our values.
One archetype that holds deep resonance—especially in the context of healing and justice work—is the Bodhisattva. In Buddhist mythology, the Bodhisattva is a figure who, upon awakening to the possibility of personal liberation, chooses to stay in the world to help ease the suffering of others. This isn’t about being a savior—it’s about walking in genuine love and solidarity. The Bodhisattva teaches us to hold both personal and collective pain with care, discernment, and healthy boundaries.
For those of us who’ve experienced trauma, especially systemic harm, betrayal trauma, or moral injury, it can be easy to confuse self-sacrifice with love. We may find ourselves absorbing pain that isn’t ours to carry. That’s why self-care is sacred. The Bodhisattva doesn’t bypass suffering or deny its presence. They bear witness to it, grounded in compassion, while still honoring their own dignity and wholeness. To embody the Bodhisattva archetype as a trauma survivor means learning to rest, to set boundaries, and to remember: liberation is a collective process. We’re not here to save others—we’re here to walk beside them.
Before entering spaces heavy with trauma—like prisons or hospices—I often ground myself in the Bodhisattva archetype. Not as a saint, but as a companion. The Bodhisattva path teaches that true fulfillment comes from serving others alongside ourselves. It is not about martyrdom or saviorism, but a radical commitment to stay present in a suffering world with compassion, boundaries, and service.
The Bodhisattva vow is a sacred one:
“Sentient beings are numberless; I vow to liberate us all.”
Taken literally, this sounds impossible, but it’s not about individual heroism. It’s rooted in the understanding that we are all interdependent. As the Buddha said, there is no ‘I’ and ‘other’—only us.
To live as a Bodhisattva means cultivating the ten paramitas (perfections), which unfold through ten bhumis (stages):
Joyful (Pramuditā): The Bodhisattva feels joy in beginning the path and commits to helping others.
Purity (Vimalā): The perfection of ethical discipline—purifying actions and intentions.
Radiant (Prabhākarī): Cultivating patience and tolerance, even amid harm or hardship.
Flaming (Arciṣmatī): Energetic perseverance and inner strength to stay on the path.
Difficult to Conquer (Sudurjayā): Deepening meditative stability and non-reactivity.
Approaching (Abhimukhī): Attaining insight—wisdom that sees reality clearly. At this stage, the Bodhisattva has the option to leave the cycle of suffering but chooses to stay.
Gone Afar (Dūraṅgamā): Skillful means—learning to help others with discernment and flexibility.
Unshakable (Acalā): Full mastery of vows and unwavering commitment to all beings.
Excellent Intellect (Sādhumatī): Spiritual power and deep intuitive understanding of interdependence.
Cloud of Dharma (Dharmameghā): The Bodhisattva becomes a living expression of the Dharma, preparing for full Buddhahood.
I often return to this grounding invocation before and after challenging sessions:
“May I be present. May I stay grounded. May I hold pain without absorbing it. May I act in love without erasure.”
Conclusion
These are the practices I return to, shaped by years of collective struggle, personal collapse, deconstruction, rebuilding, and ongoing reprocessing. While my path draws deeply from Buddhist philosophy, I understand spirituality as the active process of reconnecting to our shared humanity, our interdependence, and our responsibility to one another. It can take many forms: liberation theology, religious socialisms, progressive faith communities, Indigenous teachings, worker cooperatives, mutual aid, or secular humanist practices grounded in compassion, respect, and accountability. The form matters less than whether it helps us stay rooted in love, principled in action, and connected to something beyond the individual. It lightens the burden we carry alone.
Nurturing a spiritual life, whatever that means for you, is part of the resistance. It’s how we embody our dignity, protect our joy, and keep showing up for each other without burning out or succumbing to fascism.