If there was ever a person whom I wanted to remain immortal, it would probably be Dr. Jane Goodall. It was therefore devastating to learn of her passing last week. I do not imagine the tributes and anecdotes will subside anytime soon, nor should they. She remains an indelible, near tangible part of everyone who she ever crossed paths with. That is a kind of immortality to treasure.

Nearly everyone I know has either met Dr. Goodall in person, or heard her speak, or both. She toured more than Taylor Swift, I swear. It would be interesting to learn where she didn’t visit. The list would be a lot shorter than where she did travel to. I know I saw her at least once, probably twice, but it was long before the age of the internet, let alone cell phones and selfies, so I have no record.

I do recall, after her presentation, inquiring about the pack of African wild dogs she followed with her then husband, Hugo van Lawick, that was made into a television documentary called The Story of Solo, after the book Solo: The Story of an African Wild Dog. She told me that an epidemic of distemper wiped out much of the pack, but they were recovering. She thanked me for asking.

It is truly remarkable how far-reaching her persona has become. Chimpanzees became a wonderful vehicle for driving much greater missions. She understood that the meaning of life is joy and reverence (you get “love” when you combine the two). She celebrated curiosity as the best of all qualities in humans, other primates, and indeed all animals. Curiosity crosses gender, politics, religions, languages, all the demographics that are supposed to make us different from each other.

We rightfully mourn her passing, as we do with all friends, but this grief feels different. It is at once both deeper and more liberating than average. Liberating? Yes, she gives us, by example, license to buck standards that no longer serve us well, in the scientific community, and in humanity at large. She is a gift that will always keep on giving, through her disciples, the students of her disciples, ad infinitum.

She also made courage look effortless. I suspect she had more trepidation in facing her critical male colleagues than in approaching wild chimpanzees, but you would never know it. At least she did have one great man in her corner: Louis S. B. Leakey, the world-renowned anthropologist, selected three women, including Goodall, to conduct long-term field research on the other three great apes. Dian Fossey was tasked with learning about gorillas, specifically Mountain Gorilla, while Birutė Galdikas observed orangutans.

I will continue to speak of Dr. Goodall in the present tense, because her legacy is still very much alive, her spirit burning intensely in those inspired by her. I continue to see her everywhere, in the eyes of zookeepers managing great apes, in field biologists who ask themselves “What would Jane do?” when faced with a seemingly intractable quandry, and in the faces of executives of environmental nonprofits who passionately raise funds to protect habitat.

What I personally need to be reminded of right now, is that our human culture wars are meaningless, binary politics a waste of time, and that anger takes more out of me than love. Jane exemplifies peace beyond all else. She has an unexpected elegance for someone who spent so much time in the “jungle,” and treats everyone as an equal. She makes time for everyone who needs her counsel.

Cultivating hope is the undying mission left to us by Goodall. That is how we must honor her. We have it within us to do that, to make the planet safe for all beings, including fellow humans, fellow primates, even “lowly” invertebrates. Our best acts of resistance to the real and existential threats we face now may be to simply turn our backs to them, not in the sense of refusing to bear witness, but so we can create something completely new, just, and equitable for all species.

Tonight, for dinner, my partner and I had leftovers of a vegan dish she prepared earlier in the week. We can strive to do more of that, less of the meat-based recipes. We can do more of a lot of positive things, frankly. I will simply ask myself, “What would Jane do?”