The sun came up this morning in brilliant fashion, showcasing the azure blue sky and the golds and browns of this fall season. It wasn’t supposed to be that way for some of us on this of all days, after a very contentious election. About half of us were supposed to be sad-hearted losers, which will likely happen in a few days or weeks. It has to. Well actually, it doesn’t. It could be that recounts and court battles take up much of this season or maybe even the entire next presidential term. In fact, I really don’t see the problem with some sort of interim presidency. Maybe a joint assignment where a Democrat and a Republican share the White House until they die or come out friends. It really wouldn’t matter. Just whichever comes first. That way, the recount really could take up much of the next presidential term, giving us time to reconsider before doing this thing again in four years.
But today, even for those of us who will eventually find that our votes just weren’t enough, the sun came up this morning and the world kept turning. I’d suggest that even today, we’re all winners who belong to a country that also makes it possible to lose. And yet, the expectation is that we lose gracefully if that’s the way it has to be. It’s that graceful part that worries me.
As serious as the outcome of this race may seem to some, the good news is that presidents aren’t in place for life and we’ll have the chance to think it through and, I suppose, yell louder next time. That seems to be what we do best. No one leader has totally wrecked the country yet, and I suspect this next one won’t either, whoever he turns out to be.
Actually, I’m thinking that today would be an excellent day to take a hike. Literally, not figuratively. I’m just tired of thinking. I’d choose a solitary trail I know of, winding through a shaded wood carpeted with brittle oak leaves, ending up beside a rushing creek that empties out to the river. That’s really all I want to hear today. Nothing else. No commentary and no speculation on voter fraud and no dire predictions of doom. Nobody calling names. Nobody calling foul. No in-depth analysis. I just don’t need that today or any day. It’s done. And the sun actually did come up, as it will each day as long as the world exists.
And seriously, even if my favorite candidate, and I use that term very loosely, turns out not to be the winner, I know that God remains in charge and works through leaders with all sorts of fallacies and foibles and not so great abilities. That being the case, either incredibly flawed candidate stands a chance of being successful. What I want the most is peace for us all and wisdom for whoever is the last man standing. That’s my prayer.
I’m obviously not a politician or newscaster. I’m also not a spiritual leader and most definitely not a social worker. I don’t have the cunning or the patience for any of that. It’s not that I don’t care and most days I do keep my head a bit out of the sand. It’s actually that I care very much; I just try to remember when to let it go and how to keep things in perspective. Mostly I choose to be kind. It’s the way most of us were raised, even if we’ve forgotten that somewhere along the way.
Disagreeing is one thing. Spewing hatred is another. That’s just plain scary and uncivilized and totally unacceptable. A close cousin to hatred is intolerance, which apparently shares the same living quarters. In response to a recent post intended to bridge a gap between those on opposite sides of an issue, a commenter wrote, “The hate, misinformation, and selfishness is not equal on both sides. One side is functioning adults dealing with harsh reality and the other is made up of entitled racists who value their own convenience and opinion over the lives of others and the opinion of experts.” I sure do wish she’d let us all know how she really felt and how to achieve the same level of tolerance.
What worries me the most about this election—the reason I need to take a mental break—is the level of vitriol and fear throughout. Grace, dignity, and even kindness didn’t have a seat at the table this year. And yet, I take a bit of consolation in the fact that almost every election in the history of this country has been a bit, or a lot, contentious. Nobody could have been any more bitter or mudslinging than Thomas Jefferson and John Adams, and that was early in our life. This is the same Thomas Jefferson who enjoys a serene view of Washington D.C. from a dignified marble memorial. We forget that each and every one of our leaders had faults. Abraham Lincoln’s election split the country in two, causing him a bit of trouble in knitting it back together. He’s right there within spitting distance of Thomas Jefferson. Neither one is a saint and neither one is a villain. The same could be said for all of us, as well as for each one of those jockeying to be in charge today. Let’s just face that fact and maybe lower our expectations. Lightening up on the blame wouldn’t hurt either.
Protests for racial equality, wars, assassinations, bitter Supreme Court decisions, disenfranchised citizens, undocumented immigrants, economic woes, pandemics, fear. The list is long. There’s nothing new under the sun, except maybe the ways we choose to react. That’s what I think about a lot when I’m not out hiking. It’s the ways we choose to respond, which is really up to every single one of us individually.
What I know is that at the end of the day, all I really have control over is myself. I can choose to be bitter and hate-filled and fearful, or I can listen to better angels and choose the battles worth fighting and step out in faith. Most importantly, I get to choose the way those battles will be fought. I really hope I can always choose respect and kindness. Definitely not fear and hatred, for that’s a wicked combination.
I may not know it all—in fact, I’m certain of that. But I do know that the sun will come out tomorrow.
You can bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow there’ll be sun.
