Election Day 2012

Election day brings out the best in some people. A sense of community, of civic duty. The idea that we are all part of something and that we succeed or fail collectively. Coworkers and acquaintances encourage each other to go vote, despite having different perspectives. Visiting the polls is celebrated, there is a sense of accomplishment and pride. People who rarely get fired up reveal a sense of passion that you didn't know was there. And the evening is spent watching news pundits rather than the latest reality show or formulaic crime drama.

Election day can also bring out the worst in people. The passion of some is only exceeded by their obtuseness. The partisan disagreements can quickly change a civil discussion about policy into a shouting match of personal attacks. The idea that everyone should share our personal beliefs is easy to fall into, but leads to the dangerous need to convert everyone else's beliefs to match our own. We should be proud of our beliefs and opinions, but it's so easy for that pride to boil over into hostility toward anyone who doesn't share our positions.

As with most things, I believe balance is required to be true to ourselves and yet not alienate the people around us. Be content with knowing what you believe. Don't insist on converting everyone you come in contact with. Understand that people can read, listen, ponder, and deeply consider the same scenario that you see and yet come out at a different place. That doesn't make them idiots. Or uneducated. Or unchristian. It's merely a reminder that we are all different.

By all means discuss. But find ways to do so respectfully. Be ready to explain your positions. But try and give equal time to the other person to explain theirs. Be encouraged that there are other people who take the time to think things through and value their efforts to understand life. Don't dismiss them simply because they see a different perspective.

In closing, it's fair to note the freedom with which elections are held in this country. We are not compelled to support a government candidate at the point of a gun. There is confidence that your vote will be properly counted (despite persistent and troubling reports of sketchy polling place activity). When a winner is declared the losing candidate will graciously stand aside, not organize a coup to ignore the voice of the people. We are fortunate that voting is as placid an experience as it is. Would that our conversation and interactions with other people could reflect the same calmness.

What I've learned in 34 years

Yes, birthday's have a way of making me contemplative. Social Media now provides a means for many distant friends and relatives to wish one well. The ubiquitous nature of cell phones offers the chance to talk to unexpected and distant dear ones. And birthdays bring out the desire to wish one well in a way that isn't quite the same the other 364 days of the year. And I readily admit that I love that. I love receiving birthday wishes and reminders from friends far and near that you matter to them (at least enough to wish happy birthday on Facebook). For someone like me who struggles with feeling connected and close to others with little or no contact, this means a lot. With that fresh in my mind, I sat on the porch tonight with my beverage of choice and some time to myself and asked myself what I've learned. I don't know if these things have any value, or even if they are right, but here are a few things I thought of.

1) Never doubt someone else's pain. We all have things that have brought us sorrow. Far be it from me to compare and believe that my pain is somehow worse than someone else's. The pain that I deal with is far less than many others who I know and respect for their responses. Yet my response must be to the pain I have and the part I have control over is how I respond to my own pain. I despise someone who minimizes my pain, how could I ever minimize the pain that someone else bears.

2) If we are unwilling to reach out to others, why do we expect someone else to reach out to us. When you are aching for the validation that someone else's hug brings, yet you are too self-sufficient to "need" or "want" or "be willing" to hug someone who needs that from you... how self-centered and sad.

3) Sometimes friendship matters more than anything else. Do I spend enough time "being a friend" to other people?

4) Love can be the best thing we can give to the people around us. When we can be quicker to love than to judge, we will be able to reach people in a way that matters to them.

Have I learned anything? Most of those things I may have learned but I struggle to put them into practice with any kind of consistency. In some ways the worth of what we learn is only measured by the amount that we are wiling to change how we act and respond.

I have come so far. I have so very far to go.

Musings on the nature of friendship...

We all need friends. We can all be friends to someone else. Sometimes friendship lives on a surface level, "Hi, How are you?" "Good to see you." etc... This is not a bad thing, indeed it's an important thing in how we relate to other people. Other times friendship can be close, an intimate sharing of what is really important to each other. Who are the friends you reach out to when you need to talk about hurting and struggle and pain? Can you cry with them? These are close friends.

What about when the pain of a lost friendship prevents you from allowing anyone to get to that close level of friendship? It's fair to recognize the changing seasons of relationships and when the hurt is still fresh it's easy to feel like that close level of friendship will never happen again. Can it?

How is the best way to be a friend when you feel like friends have failed you in the past? My first and exceptionally strong impulse is to withdraw, from both close and surface friendships. You can't be hurt if you have no friends. But, then you have no friends, and by withdrawing you effectively cut off your friendship from other people who may need it. Even I can see that withdrawing isn't a great move.

In many ways the last several years have taught me that friendship involves a certain amount of risk, and when it's going well, the benefits outweigh those risks. But when friendship is hard, it feels like the pain and hurt that you risked are much worse than imagined, and it's quite hard to envision making the same "mistake" again.

So... I continue trying to convince myself to make the "mistake" of trusting other people again. Not there yet. but maybe someday.

2012

To think more and talk less. To read more and eat less. To write more and fight less. To focus more on others and less on myself.
Resolutions are hard to keep, yet if we stop trying, it shows that we've stopped caring. Let the next year show that I care.