Things were a little crazy this week. I have an idea for a post and still have not sat down to write it out. But I want to share something that came out on my Facebook page (of course) tonight. One of the reasons I love writing is that insights pop out when you least expect them. Writing exchanged with others is even better, because those insights are then shared, and their meaning amplifies.
I posted this article from the Washington Post yesterday: “Nearly half of liberals don’t even like to be around Trump supporters.” It’s a summary of a recent Pew Research Center survey, which finds that 47% of liberal Democrats “say that if a friend supported Trump, it would actually put a strain on their friendship.” It posits, among other things, that liberals are less tolerant of dissenting ideas because they are clustered in urban areas, lending to louder echo chambers. By contrast, only 13% of Republicans answered that “a friend’s support of Hillary Clinton would strain their friendship.”
From the survey report: “…Nearly nine months after the election, most people (59%) say it is ‘stressful and frustrating’ to talk about politics with people who have a different opinion of Trump than they do; just 35% find such conversations ‘interesting and informative.'”
I consider myself a socially heavily left-leaning, fiscally centrist Independent, but I identify more with liberals than conservatives, by a large margin. This article made me sad, that my ‘tribe’ shows itself to be much more intolerant and judgmental than I would like.
I posted this comment along with the article:
“Ooohh, so much data here, so much potential for blame, and also for self-exploration. Humbling, no question.
“Be extra kind with your comments on this one please, friends. No need to reopen barely scabbed wounds. I mean for my page to be a safe place for all of us to engage. We are all in it together, and the sooner we *all* figure out how to deal with 45 and one another, the better we will all be.
“Also, I’m bummed that Asians are always left out of the data set.”
I got some comments from my liberal friends about how hard it is to talk to Trump supporters, so much so that they avoid talking politics with those friends altogether. But one friend exemplified my aspiration for all of us. She wrote:
“… I recently had dinner with a very close friend who voted for Trump. Typically I think I’m a really good listener, listening with curiosity and a desire to raise the conversation and all involved to a higher level. However, when our conversation turned to politics I found myself cutting her off, getting defensive and bordering on being critical of her. I was horrified by my own behavior. I think this article hits on it – the support or opposition of Trump feels like less of a political stance and more of a statement of a person’s values and morals. I don’t think that’s necessarily true- I think a large population of Trump voters (my friend included) were actually voting against Washington more than for Trump. While I can’t get behind Trump I can get behind a vote to change the system. I wonder what might happen if more of us looked for what we can stand behind together?! Thank you for continuing to be a voice for this movement!”
Exactly! Immediately I felt connected to my friend in a higher calling, and a shared struggle. I replied:
“(My dear friend), I derive so much of my strength and curiosity from you. How many of us can own up publicly about our own flaws and failures, like you did here? And I know you know I use the word failure in the most empathetic and loving, mutually understanding way. I think that is the first step–complete humility and openness to our own imperfection. It’s so fucking hard. And I’m so lucky to have friends like you, (these four other dear friends), and others… I know now, better late than never, that we cannot do this work without unwaveringly reliable support, no matter how motivated we are. And for those of us who are already well-supported, I think it’s our responsibility to look outward and support others. You never know when or where someone may be standing on the edge of openness, and when your small gesture of encouragement may nudge them on. Thank you for your loving support, my soul sister!”
It really is true, we cannot dig deep and bring out our best selves by ourselves. We are meant to hold one another up and accountable, to bring out the best in each other. It breaks my heart when I interview patients, and learn how sparse and frail their emotional support networks are. There is no stereotype for this scenario, it can happen to the best of us. Past experiences, circumstances, timing, life events—they can all combine to undermine our relationships, thereby weakening our capacity for self-awareness and exploration. So we fall back on default modes of defensiveness, righteousness, denial, and blame. Whether it’s quitting smoking, sticking to a healthy eating plan, or elevating our political discourse, we are truly stronger together.
I share this tonight because I so admire my friend for owning her whole self. I am so grateful to her for sharing her imperfections and vulnerability with humility and hopefulness. She gives me strength to keep going, despite how fucking hard it is. And I hope I can do the same for many, many others.
Dear Paul & Joanne*,
I cannot tell you how grateful I am to you both for taking the time to meet me last week. You came out in the pouring rain, not for a lighthearted night of drinks and karaoke, but to talk charged politics with your tortured, melancholic, liberal friend. I hope it did not feel too burdensome, and that you would do it again.
It was quite the emotional evening for me, unsettling, sometimes uncomfortable, and also dominated by love. Joanne, we have known each other about 15 years, and I know you are not a fan of politics in general. Paul, I know you mostly through your witty holiday cards, and your occasional Facebook posts that often touch on politics. You lean right, it seems, about as much as I lean left. You gently called me out when I shared a Trump supporter-shaming video, reminding me to hold myself to a higher standard of discourse on all platforms. That is why I sought you out. When you engage, you exemplify the attitude toward political discourse that I aspire to.
I described to Joanne over the phone how distraught I had been since November, something akin to “watching the fabric of my generation’s social progress torn to shreds by a maniacally fomenting, double-machete-wielding narcissist.” You seemed genuinely surprised and curious—why did this election have such a profoundly tormenting effect on me? What made millions of people pour into the streets around the world in protest? I was incredulous at your incredulity, and yet I felt a mutual, loving acceptance between friends who only want each other to be happy and feel secure.
At dinner, I could tell that you both cared acutely about my distress, and wanted to help alleviate it. You reassured me that the worst case scenarios are highly unlikely to actually happen. You reminded me that hyperventilation and arm flapping are not productive energy expenditures. You gently encouraged me about the long, jagged, often meandering, and also inevitable path of social progress, and the importance of taking the long view.
I admit that I felt a little defensive at times, as if anything I said about the origins of my distress would be met with, “You’re overreacting,” and “You’re worried about nothing, please…” We later agreed that it is never helpful to invalidate someone’s emotional response to a stressor, regardless of whether or not we can relate. Paul, you are so well-read and convicted about your opinions. I did not see a point in arguing, as you did not seem interested in debate, and I left feeling disappointed that I had not presented a stronger defense of my liberal ideals. The whole exchange felt lopsided in favor of your position. But I did learn from your point of view, which was one of my primary objectives.
Most importantly, our conversation revived my mindfulness practice. You’re right—energy spent catastrophizing about a hell-on-earth future is energy wasted. As Michael J. Fox says (I paraphrase), “Don’t spend your time worrying, because if what you’re worried about actually happens, now you’ve lived it twice.” My energy is better spent in the present, attending to what is, rather than what I fear might be. And I feel justified in my shock and dismay at what is. In my opinion, Donald Trump has defiled the presidency and brought our politics to a new moral low that I could never have predicted. I don’t need to ‘go apeshit’ over the future, as there is plenty of wreckage to confront right now, not the least of which is our collective refusal to engage one another in civil discourse. I can center, ground, and focus, breathe deeply and engage, one step, one person, or one loving couple, at a time.
Last week Dan Rather wrote my heart on his Facebook page:
The threats, the lies, the willful disregard for the rule of law should be limited to the world of Hollywood caricature. To see this played out each night on the news, to read about ramblings and inconsistencies in justifications for actions that should never have been taken, is to see a moment of great peril for our nation.
I remain, however, an optimist. I see the swellings of civic engagement and action. I hear the voices of those who demand that this subversion of our national ideals shall not stand. I have covered social movements of the past, and never have seen one where so much power and numbers lie on the side of the opposition. This is a clash for the values of our nation. Our destiny is in our hands.
Our nation’s patchy, irregular social fabric may be strained to its limits today, and even torn in some places. But the threat of real disintegration has brought forth multitudes of weavers and quilters to repair and protect its integrity. I can acknowledge this ‘collateral beauty’ and contribute my part, through conversations like ours, to help mend the tapestry, and bend that moral arc of the universe more toward justice.
Thank you, my dear friends, for helping me train for this marathon. You hold me up and make me stronger. I hope I do the same for you.
Sincerely and with love,
*Not their real names
…by a friend of a friend.
It’s okay to lament the darkness. Grief is normal and healthy.
But then go get a candle and light it. Then go about lighting other people’s candles with yours.
The best part is, the light just multiplies. Your light shines no less brightly for giving some away.
And pretty soon darkness gives way to all of our light.
Peace and hope, friends.
NaBloPoMo 2016, Letters to Patients, Day 24
To Patients Who Feel Lukewarm About Thanksgiving:
I’m with ya.
Not that I have anything against Thanksgiving… I just have difficulty pouring forth a great gush of gratitude every fourth Thursday of November for a national holiday. I thought this week it was just because of the tensions of the year, but looking back, I’ve never really loved this day. I feel sheepish to write it, like people will think less of me. Then again, something tells me I might not be the only one?
Yesterday I shared the most eloquent treatise on gratitude I have ever read, and I believe every word. I try to live the premise every day—to pay attention and feel gratitude at the deepest cosmic level, connected to everything in the universe. I marvel every day at all that I have, all that I am privileged to witness and do—to live this life, so full of learning and connection. Today I’m supposed to summon and articulate all that moves me to thankfulness… Why do I resist?
I imagine many would read this and think, “Wow, she is so ungrateful,” or maybe un-American? I think most people who know me would disagree. And those who know and love me best would hold the space with me to explore the curiosity of it all, without judging me for it or trying to ‘fix’ it. And I’m ever so grateful for them, because I’m not sure it’s something that needs to be ‘fixed.’
I think it’s okay to feel not particularly grateful today, no more than any other day. I also think it’s okay to feel especially grateful on this day, significantly more than any other day. What’s not okay—what I see causing so many people to suffer—is when we shame others for thinking and feeling differently from us. We physicians do this more than we realize, I think. When patients don’t seem to take blood pressure, diabetes, obesity, or flu as seriously as we do, we can get very judgmental. When they have different ideas about what will make them better (natural supplements, unusual diets, acupuncture, shamanic journeying, homeopathy), we can become positively hostile. This is rarely helpful.
So if you, like me, are not particularly into Thanksgiving, and/or if you don’t subscribe to all conventional wisdom around certain things medical, I will try to withhold judgment. I am indeed grateful for the chance to gather and enjoy one another’s company this week. I don’t advertise my apathy for the holiday, as that would diminish others’ joy—and that would be antithetical to my core values. I also appreciate the freedom to celebrate modestly rather than exuberantly. I respect your right to choose therapies according to your values and beliefs, as long as your choices do not harm others.
I’ll continue to explore my relative indifference toward Thanksgiving. Thank you for not trying to make me feel bad for it.
NaBloPoMo 2016, Letters to Patients, Day 23
To Patients Seeking Words for Gratitude:
I found them!
As we head to gatherings tomorrow and seek words to honor and express the occasion, I’m particularly grateful today to see the post below by David Whyte. Where, you ask? Why on Facebook, of course! Back tomorrow with my own original words. Until then, peace and gratitude to you all!
*** *** ***
is not a passive response to something we have been given, gratitude arises from paying attention, from being awake in the presence of everything that lives within and without us. Gratitude is not necessarily something that is shown after the event, it is the deep, a-priori state of attention that shows we understand and are equal to the gifted nature of life.
Gratitude is the understanding that many millions of things come together and live together and mesh together and breathe together in order for us to take even one more breath of air, that the underlying gift of life and incarnation as a living, participating human being is a privilege; that we are miraculously, part of something, rather than nothing. Even if that something is temporarily pain or despair, we inhabit a living world, with real faces, real voices, laughter, the color blue, the green of the fields, the freshness of a cold wind, or the tawny hue of a winter landscape.
To see the full miraculous essentiality of the color blue is to be grateful with no necessity for a word of thanks. To see fully, the beauty of a daughter’s face across the table, of a son’s outline against the mountains, is to be fully grateful without having to seek a God to thank him. To sit among friends and strangers, hearing many voices, strange opinions; to intuit even stranger inner lives beneath calm surface lives, to inhabit many worlds at once in this world, to be a someone amongst all other someones, and therefore to make a conversation without saying a word, is to deepen our sense of presence and therefore our natural sense of thankfulness that everything happens both with us and without us, that we are participants and witness all at once.
Thankfulness finds its full measure in generosity of presence, both through participation and witness. We sit at the table as part of every other person’s strange world while making our own world without will or effort, this is what is extraordinary and gifted, this is the essence of gratefulness, seeing to the heart of privilege.
Thanksgiving happens when our sense of presence meets and fully beholds all other presences. Being unappreciative, feeling distant, might mean we are simply not paying attention.
© 2015 David Whyte
In CONSOLATIONS: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words.
© David Whyte and Many Rivers Press 2015
NaBloPoMo 2016, Letters to Patients, Day 18
To Patients Seeking Inspiration:
May you find it all around you!
Today I also reference Donna’s post from yesterday, as its raw vulnerability inspires me, too. 🙂
Hi, Cathy, I cheated a bit. I prefer to think of it as creative accounting.
SURPRISED to discover how much easier it is to stay focused on the lectures in my audio course if I color while I’m listening. If I try to listen while idle, I drift away. Hmmm, this is an area where multi-tasking is actually beneficial.
I’m making this a two-fer:
INSPIRED and TOUCHED by many of the speeches at the National Book Awards: Rep. John Lewis tearfully relating how as a teenager he was refused a library card because he was black, and now he was on stage accepting a National Book Award. Colson Whitehead’s “formula” for feeling better in these worrisome times: “Be kind to everybody. Make art and fight the power.” And poet Toi Derricotte’s declaration that “joy is an act of resistance.”
Hope you’ve had a great day today, Cathy, and will have a better one tomorrow. See you then!
Hi Donna! I heard parts of those speeches on NPR this morning, too! And yes, very moving.
I just arrived in Champaign for the American College of Physicians Illinois Chapter Meeting. Tomorrow morning I will give a fifteen minute summary of highlights from the international physician health conference.
I’m surprised at how not nervous I am about this talk. But then again, maybe there is no need. I know this stuff, I love it. There are no facts to memorize, only passion and inspiration to share!
I am moved by my conversation with my friend in the car. We talked for 121 miles and then some. We realized that we have been each other’s mentors in different ways these last few years. I also realized that knowing her has made me more confident, more brave, and more *my best self*. Truly moving.
I’m inspired by the message I’m about to deliver tomorrow. The profession struggles to sustain its calling. Our circumstances undermine the meaning in our work, obscure our calling. And yet, like you posted today, the well will still fill, from the deep. Oh my gosh!! I think I will quote you tomorrow!! OMG it’s PERFECT!! YOU inspire me, Donna!!!
It’s gonna be great. Because I have so much inspiration all around me.
This was a pretty great day, Donna.
I hope your well fills in a little and a lot more every day. Let’s look for that 3:1 ratio, and continue our journal. It’s really helping me! …And staying off of Facebook is also paying off–in time, energy, and mood. Hugs to you, friend!!