Hey there. I’m just checking on you.
How you holding up? Because I’m all over the place. Anxious and nauseous one minute and awash in gratitude and goodness the next.
This is strange time we are living in, teetering between possibility and destruction. (Though let’s be honest, don’t the two always go together?)
Here in the U.S., we are days away from a very big, very important election. But the angst is much larger than candidates and outcomes.
I feel the unease, the uncertainty not only about our national and global future, but our divide.
It’s like waiting for the adults to come home and do something to make things right. Except we’re the adults and we’re on the verge of divorce.
I recently wrote an op-ed about us vs them mentality and how, despite our differences, it’s more useful – for our happiness and our survival – to focus on what unites us.
It’s funny, really. We would never expect, or even want, all people to be the same. Variety makes the world go round. “We can’t all like vanilla ice cream,” a friend’s grandmother used to tell her.
Normally we don’t get hysterical about each other’s differences. We might accept them, or judge them, but they don’t feel like a personal insult or betrayal to us. No one comes to blows on whether they like or dislike cilantro, for instance.
But perhaps that’s because cilantro-lovers aren’t trying force cilantro-haters to eat it. (Though some Mexican restaurants are very sneaky with cilantro.)
Perhaps politics and elections are so contentious because the populus has the power to impact someone else’s circumstance – their tax burden, their civil rights, their safety, their participation in democracy.
It’s kind of like cilantro lovers deciding all food should contain cilantro just because they love it.
How do we create unity in a hurting world? We start by seeing people as humans, not as votes or members of a particular party or ideology.
I ask myself: Is my heart big enough to love those who vote against my rights? Is my heart big enough to include those I vehemently disagree with?
I’m not always sure but I want it to be. Because division poisons me. It makes me less me. It robs my joy and stomps on my peace, makes me feel frightened and hopeless and gives me a stomachache.
Stopping the us vs them mentality begins with me. With you. With each of us. It’s a choice to stop “othering” people, to instead create unity.
It’s a hard choice. And an essential one if we don’t want to end up in a civil war.
Curiosity helps. So does compassion.
When fear and doom dominate my thinking, I search for our common ground. We all want good schools for our kids, safe public spaces, decent healthcare, a thriving economy, a planet to live on and our civil rights.
We all want to matter.
We all long for meaning and fulfillment.
We all want to belong.
We all age.
We all need to eat.
We all poop.
You might be voting for someone I oppose. I might be voting for someone you oppose. When we let that singular factor determine our relationship, aren’t we part of the problem?
We are not going to find unity through elections, social media debates or even policy. No one is coming to save us. The parents aren't coming home. It's up to us.
Unity is something we must claim and create, interaction by interaction, thought by thought.
We do not need to like all people. It’s an unfair and unreasonable expectation. But unity doesn’t require agreement or sameness.
Unity is simply a we’re all in this together vibe.
All unity asks of us is to open instead of close, to accept instead of dismiss, to include rather than exclude. With our minds, our hearts, our actions.
This is how we reclaim the power of choice over who we are. It allows us to no longer be reactive to a narrative, to a group, to a leader, to no longer be controlled by our fear. It allows us to be led, instead, by our integrity.
Not because it’s our job to fix the world or do the emotional labor for everyone. But because it’s the only way to stay sane. Humans are built for connection; we cannot sustain this division without serious consequences.
A generous spirit will always feel better to us than hatred, judgement or dismissal.
(If you want more on this, check out my post The Hunter and The Hiker.)
I challenge you (and myself) to find someone who disagrees with you politically (by their words, their bumper sticker, the sign in their yard) and decide to see your sameness.
Maybe they have the same brand car as you.
Maybe they have that flagstone walkway you want.
Maybe they have a really cute dog.
Or maybe the only commonality is that they have a beating heart in their chest or know what it’s like to be scared or to lose someone they love. That’s enough.
Hang in there. Build bridges. I love you. Even if you hate cilantro.
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