You can be an activist by planting Winter squash, walking in a fern forest, listening to your children, or smiling from your heart at someone who is lonely.
True activism is to gently immerse your whole astonished body in the river of Presence;
To be moved by the breath of beauty like a golden leaf, and fall right where you are;
To drown in the mystery of communion with whatever creature is before you...
A disheveled crow, a boy in the rain with his shining basketball, a spider web gazing like an eye, a crone at the grocery store, marveling at all the soup.
These are your tribe. They have no political party. This is your native country. It is all sacred land.
Earth is not transfigured by how much you do, but how wantonly and nakedly you plunge into the ocean of this perishing moment.