What We Would Give

“I would eat less myself so that you may be full.” 

It’s much more poetic and beautiful spoken in Chinese.  My mom said these words to me as she pretreated a pile of clothes, ‘Asian squatting’ on the floor in front of the washer.  I was in middle school, perhaps.  We were talking casually about parents and children.  She always had, and continues to have, the most efficiently poignant ways to express how infinitely parents love their children—how much they are willing to sacrifice in service of their kids’ health, well-being, and success—all without any residue of shame, guilt, or obligation.  As a parent myself, I totally get it now.

“What I would(n’t) give for…”

When have you thought or uttered these words?  What was it for, a hot dog?  A drink of water?  Your loved one not to have cancer?  Reconciliation with and estranged friend?  An end to systemic racism?

What are we willing to give for what we really care about?  Where is the evidence in action for the values we profess? 

I’m listening to Barack Obama’s memoir, savoring it now in the last few hours.  What I really appreciate is the inside look at the rationale, the complexity, and the reality of policy making.  He explains why he chose to push certain policies through legislation rather than executive order, knowing it was the harder and politically higher risk path.  He describes the personal, relational, legal, and procedural struggles that made legislative losses so frustrating and wins so satisfying.  This was an easy ‘read’ because he is my hero.  I relate to his motivations and understand his rationale easily—I know him as a fellow tribe member.  Next I will attempt Mitch McConnell’s The Long Game, in an honest effort to see the other side’s perspective.  I will buckle down and grit my teeth, and try my best to listen with presence and openness… and also critical, respectful skepticism.

I want tell the story about our elected officials that they entered public life in pursuit of ideals greater than themselves, what Simon Sinek names ‘a just cause’.  According to Sinek a truly just cause is 1) for something—protagonistic and visionary; 2) inclusive—anybody can join; 3) service oriented—benefits others; 4) resilient—endures in the face of change; and 5) idealistic—impossible to actually achieve, but inspires us to pursue anyway.  I see pursuit of just causes so clearly in President Obama’s words and actions.  I have trouble with some others’.   I know many have the opposite experience—how fascinating!

I also want to tell the story that our politicians are people of integrity, who negotiate and compromise with both short term outcomes and long term strategy in mind, all in service of their just cause.  But even knowing that we citizens never see the whole picture, even giving them the benefit of the doubt, it’s a hard story to believe much of the time.  …So if it’s not a true story, what are we citizens willing to give to make it so?

When does compromise constitute hypocrisy?  When does calling out hypocrisy amount just to whining?  When is it better to let this one go and wait for next time, or to go for broke now, lest we miss our only opportunity?  How much are we willing to spend/invest/lose/fail/sacrifice, in order to achieve our ultimate goals?

What are we each really willing to give?  What does this tell us about our values?

And in the end, how will we be at peace with the consequences of our in/actions?

Trust

What happens when you trust someone?  Maybe take 30 seconds and actually consider the deeper answers, not just the ones that come to mind immediately.

Trust allows a first time mom to ask her kid’s pediatrician earnestly about vaccine risks, and whether they cause autism (they don’t).   Mom trusts that Doctor will not judge her for asking, and thus she listens to Doctor’s answer openly, knowing Baby’s health is Doc’s first priority.  Trust allows Mom to respectfully request a delayed vaccination schedule, just in case, and because she will feel more comfortable with it all.  Doctor agrees to said arrangement, because she trusts that Mom is not a flight risk, and they have the kind of relationship wherein it’s safe to query, challenge, discuss, and negotiate.

Vaccines.  Masks.  Election results.  Who can change our minds when we have a set opinion about these and other things?  Only people whom we trust.  The more committed I am to my perspective, the more I must trust you to even hear your opposing point of view, much less let it (you) affect or change mine.  Even then, it most likely requires multiple encounters or conversations.  You must be patient.

Patient for what?  For relationship building.  Trusting relationships require time and energy to cultivate; there is simply no substitute for these interpersonal investments.  We may not notice the small tests along the way, the ones we pass easily when committed to relationship building, and fail just as easily when not.  Brené Brown lists seven key elements of trust, arranged in the convenient acronym BRAVING:  Boundaries, Reliability, Accountability, Vault (confidentiality), Integrity, Non-judgment, and Generosity.  Who in your life practices all seven with you?  With whom do you?  Is it mutual, like Mom and Doc above?  The most resilient relationships stand on the strongest foundations of trust, such that challenges and dissent not only fail to threaten bonds, but tighten them through honesty, vulnerability, and thus connection.

Whom can you not trust?  Someone who ridicules your opinion?  Who dismisses, shames, or belittles you?  Maybe.  Then again, when you know someone does this on the regular, can’t you trust them to continue doing it?  Can a relationship be trusting, even if it’s not positive?  We can trust our enemies to remain our enemies, right?  Maybe.  I think enemies may be converted (transformed) with the same habits as those practiced between trusting friends.  It just takes more time and energy.

I cannot, however, trust he who treats me with indifferent ambivalence.  When in one private moment he holds me up, then in another cuts me down in front of others.  When she expresses agreement in today’s meeting, then next week flippantly denies this agreement and equivocates.  This consistent, repetitive, and yet unpredictably timed alignment whiplash—the erratic alternation between attunement and rejection—kills trust and stymies both progress and morale in groups and on teams.  Such mistrust requires advanced relationship skills to overcome… Or maybe the relationship just needs to end.

I’m thinking a lot about trust as we prepare for important changes on our national horizon.  Words and actions both matter—by public officials, physicians, parents, teachers, friends—we all matter.  We can all make a positive difference—it is a choice. 

We each bear the responsibility to be trustworthy.

Do Not Throw Away Your Friends

*deep breath*

Let’s all slow down and sink into this moment, shall we?  I mean really get settled. Be here only, right now.   *deep*   *breath*

How are you feeling, physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, and relationally?  I think I will live more peacefully if I ask myself this more often, and take the time to answer and reflect, before I speak or act.

I had finally walked out of some heavy darkness after a truly regenerative vacation.  I started two and finished three books after Christmas.  I wrote all of our family New Year greetings in one sitting, got a better handle on stress eating, and made inroads on social media moderation.  I even worked out four days in a row—2021 was off to an awesome start!

And then this week happened.  I followed peripherally through the workday as our Capitol was besieged by rioters seeking to overthrow the government, then proceeded to doom scroll and [out]rage post into the wee hours of night.  I felt agitated, like most, and also weirdly vindicated.  Thinking back to the dread and despair I experienced this time four years ago, and my conservative friends telling me I was overreacting, I thought, “See?  I was right to worry.” 

“I was right.”  Such a delicious and potentially toxic sentiment.  How does it make anything better?

I saw so many people on January 6th telling their Facebook friends to unfriend if they still support 45.  Another classmate, a Trump supporter, announced she was deactivating her account due to the hostility and blanket dismissals of her as a person.  “You’re dead to me,” my liberal friends announced.  How is a person supposed to respond to that in any kind of productive way?  The title of this post came to me that evening, as I left the office.

In 2016 I friended a high school classmate for the express purpose of conducting civil political discourse on social media.  At that time I did not quite understand what an exercise in futility this can be (mostly is).  I’m proud to say that our exchanges have always, indeed, exemplified civility.  Over the years we also bonded over hiking, shared nerdhood, and not much else.  He asked me occasionally for general medical information and challenged me with math problems he presented to his high school students (I solved them with authority).  But the political interactions became tiresome as the current administration continued.  Last year I requested to cease our political conversations; he graciously agreed.  It was just too unsatisfying, and I felt relieved to just be friendly.  I look forward to when we can meet in person to engage, because I’m so much better at that now.

In face to face political conversations, I have learned to define and hew to clear and simple objectives in any interaction, and it’s almost never to persuade anyone of my rightness.  Most of the time it can only be to understand the other person’s perspective; I’m almost always the one asking more questions and listening more.  I’ve had to accept that and practice patience.  I’ve also had to muzzle my inner rage monster whenever I hear sweeping, oversimplified generalizations like “Democrats’ policies will make everything worse for America,” or “Democrats have no soul.”  I’m not a Democrat, but right now that is the party that more often advances causes and policies that I support.  Conservative and progressive ideals are never all good or all bad.  Rather, they are complex and intricate polarities to be managed in the infinite game of democracy.  Adherents to each side are not mutually demonic and subhuman, monolithic enemies to be vanquished.  They are our neighbors, colleagues, family, and friends.  Nothing will get better if we go around cutting ties left and right (hey! Pun!), especially not in the heat of a moment when the country most needs our collective composure, despite our most agitated emotions.  This is why we must breathe deeply and settle in to our best selves, before we open our mouths or type another word online.

My friend has renounced Trump, saying it took a fair amount of rationalization to vote for him this time, which he regrets.  Welcome to humanity, sir, where we all rationalize most of our decisions, more than we know and much more than we’d like to admit.  He has also declared steadfast commitment to his conservative principles, which I wholeheartedly support.  I’m so hopeful that we may continue to practice our discourse skills on and with each other.  I still may not engage on Facebook, and he has yet to accept a Zoom invitation, but I feel progress coming on (as Progressives often do).