Call it delayed reaction. Call it exhaustion. Call it too many rides on Mephisto the Mechanical Bull. You can call it a lot of things. I feel like going on strike today. You are about to witness a dramatic transformation. I am going to walk myself through all the ways in which this has been a difficult week, a trying time, a shake-my-head, go back to bed kind of day and at the end of this writing I am still going to be grateful. It’s like a shell game: watch the three shells and see under which one the kernel of gratitude is hiding…
My son often said to me back when we were still living together in California, “You need to stop watching the news.” And my protest was always the same: “How will I know what’s going on in the world if I don’t watch the news?” But he was right. Perhaps I should stop watching the news. The nonstop coverage of drama, murder and mayhem, airplane crashes, law and order, injustice, incivility, racial profiling, political posturing, disastrous weather, the neverending stream of negativity that bombards me constantly whether I am watching network news or watching my feed on Facebook. I am surrounded by some version of what’s going on in the world.
People are riveted to a story unfolding in the news: a tale of two different people, two different stories, multiple truths. Depending on who you are, you are watching this story anticipating what will happen if the outcome goes a particular way. What will it mean to a large mass of people for whom the outcome will be an indicator of where things stand regarding our relationships to one another in this country? Some will hope for some version of what has been called “justice” and many will disagree about what justice looks like. No matter what the outcome is there are those who will argue that justice has not been done. I am one who has spent my life working on behalf of those for whom things like justice, freedom, fairness, equity has been promised but never guaranteed and often unevenly and inequitably delivered (if at all.) I have, like my parents before me and in their own ways their parents before them, and in fact our ancestors before them in their various ways striven and fought, labored, and persevered for some measure, some share of fairness of equality of opportunity. And like them and like so many of us I am tired.
Many times in the 700 plus days (two years) since I began writing this blog, I have hit a wall–run into this force field of exhaustion from the combination of my personal circumstances as well as what was happening in the world around me–that has made it remarkably difficult to express gratitude. This week during which I have been physically and mentally exhausted, grieving my aunt and still caring for my injured canine friend (and yes, that too has taken a toll), there are still many blessings for which I am grateful.
There are many, many (many) good people in this world. People who do the right things, who care for the people around them, who honor the earth, who are willing to say they don’t know, are willing to be wrong, are willing to defend those who cannot defend themselves, stand up for what’s right, even if it’s not popular. There are people who love, who care, who forgive, who honor life. People who know there aren’t easy answers, who don’t pretend that everything is okay when it’s not. There are many, many people–angels seen and unseen–who will watch out for my kids, who will help someone change a tire, who will intervene. There are people who will ask someone who is crying if they are alright, who will run toward danger to help someone rather than run away. There are people who will listen to their intuition and call the person who crossed their mind just to make sure they’re okay. There are people who will take a chance to get to know someone even if they look or act a little different than who they usually speak to. There are people who will tell the truth even when it is easier or more expedient to lie. They are everywhere. You are them, I am them.
I am foolish enough to believe in the basic goodness of humans. This is in spite of all the evidence around me that would seem to indicate that there are plenty of people who are not good (whatever “good” means, anyway.) A friend of mine used to shake his head at me and say, “Your problem is that you expect people to be as honorable, kind, fair, honest…etc. as you are. And when they are not, you’re disappointed.” He was right, I did expect that. And he was also right that when they turned out to be dishonest, unfair, hurtful, cruel, insensitive, whatever they were, I was disappointed. And yet, I am grateful for this attribute, no matter how foolish it might seem. Even with all the madness in the world, the evidence of “man’s inhumanity to man,” I still, perhaps foolishly, have hope. Even as tired as I am, as weary from fighting the foolishness, I am grateful and I have hope. As John Lennon sang, “You may say I’m a dreamer…but I’m not the only one.” I am one, I will remain one, no matter how tired I might get. So help me god. And for that, yes, I am grateful.
