VOTE!

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VOTE!

A Short Story - and Extended Thoughts on Democracy

I started writing this short story a couple weeks ago. It is not finished. But I wanted to get it out in this form. When you get to the end of the this part of the story, I will do some explaining....

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Bursting the Bubbles- 

A Short Story

Barry A. Lehman

October 2018

The bubble burst last week. Most of the bubbles I have ever believed in are now gone. The sight of the National Guard patrolling Lake Street was the final one. There were no riots  or disturbances of any kind in Minneapolis.  Sure, there were protests, but all had been peaceful. We lived up to Minnesota Nice.

But under martial law, all protests were banned. A national curfew was imposed for 7 pm to 7 am local times. All stores and malls were to close at 6 pm with everyone off the streets by 8 pm. I know it makes no sense, but I am only reporting. We were told it was an "essential national security measure." The subversive forces were everywhere and only this kind of strict control would save democracy in the United States. The last election proved we were in great danger.

That last election was only six-weeks ago. It was a record-setting turnout. All ages, all groups, all political views showed up at the polls as never before. The result was seen as almost revolutionary- a peaceful, election-based revolution as has never  been seen before. Even the most Republican states were swamped by a "blue" Democrat wave. On a national level it wasn't even close.

Progressives and liberals like myself were overwhelmed with joy. Our months of grass-roots work, door-to-door canvassing, local advertising and mouth-to-mouth persuasion had been victorious. Democracy proved itself. "We the people..." meant something. It was in good, American tradition. What a light to share with the world.

The first bubble to burst came a week after the election. A statement was released through the White House: The election was null and void. It had been compromised by foreign powers, subversives, who had hacked the election system and turned the election against the party in power in the government. There was no choice but to invalidate the election. There would be a new election, but only after the problem could be investigated and the security promised for a fair election.

Unfortunately that would take at least into the late spring of next year. Therefore, using extraordinary powers, the President declared a state of emergency and asked Congress to pass a War Powers Act freezing all Federal and State elected officials as they had been on election day. It was also requested that these officials terms would be extended until six-weeks after the successful conclusion of a free election.

 Debate was heavy and partisan. The declaration and emergency powers act were passed. Attempts to block it were taken to the Supreme Court but to no avail. The Court refused to be involved due to the "extreme nature" of the threat to the United States.

Protests started almost immediately after the original White House statement. Large cities and small towns were swamped by angry voters. Local election officials attempted recounts to show there was no interference. In some states they at least were heard, but the Federal actions overruled them all. Things stood. As things deteriorated the FBI and Justice Department issued the results of their investigations. A number of well-known national figures were implicated in the hacking. According to the information, they knew it was happening and in fact had helped the "subversives" gain access.

The riots began in some cities not long after the night that the news channels reported that some of these national leaders were being arrested under the War Powers Act and being held in secure locations. Citing Lincoln's actions in the early days of the Civil War, the President and Congress suspended the writ of habeas corpus. The leaders would stay in prison.

Thus came the inevitable increase of violence. Supporters of the executive and legislative actions began to disrupt protests. The protestors were often arrested; the disrupters managed to escape. Local police forces were being stretched thin. The Guard was nationalized and the Reserves mobilized. Finally, protests themselves were banned due to serious "public safety hazards."

The final bubble of the American experiment was gone.

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Well, after I had written this fictional account on Saturday (Oct. 20), I was surfing around Facebook and was struck by a post from a  group I follow known as The Christian Left. They had cross-posted an article from the Washington Examiner about a CNN interview with reporter and author Carl Bernstein of Watergate fame. The post said:

Carl Bernstein: Trump preparing to call midterm elections 'illegitimate' if Democrats take power

Bernstein said Sunday that Trump has discussed ways to challenge the results of the midterm elections if the GOP's grasp on power slips. Bernstein said his sources relayed this information to him on Friday, warning that Trump has talked about a disruption campaign if the results are close but have the Democrats taking control of the House or Senate.

 I am not a prophet or prognosticator. I don't know whether Bernstein's sources are real or not. I do know that my personal awareness of history and the direction of autocratic leadership toward a fascist-type of control is real.

I do not believe this can truly happen. Or at least I want to believe it can't happen. I still have trust in our American democratic institutions. But there is a very disturbing undercurrent to Mr. Trump that undermines some of my hope.

Democracy, history tells us, can be a very fragile process. It is easily challenged by difficulties in the world, a concerted effort of propaganda and half-truths twisted into anti-democratic principles disguised in other half-truths and populist language.

My conservative friends, the few who still follow me or talk to me, will say I am being crazy, over-reacting, making a mountain out of a molehill. I hope so. But when I hear Mr. Bernstein's reporting, I wonder if, even now, I am underestimating the power that seeks to manipulate our democracy into un-democratic ways.

It is two weeks until the election. I pray my fears are over-blown and will look silly in December.

Sadness, Concern, Dread - and Patriotism

I have always loved the Fourth of July. Like many of my childhood friends, and my  generation, I am the son of a World War II veteran. We were raised with a deep, almost genetically-based patriotism. It was not a political statement at that time, or at least I didn't see it that way. It was an awareness of how lucky we were to be born in this nation "conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men were created equal." Patriotism meant loving our country for what it has given us- and more importantly- what we could do for our country.

That was a long time ago now. Half a century and more. But the Fourth of July- Independence Day- has never lost it's shine and excitement for me. Even in the midst of the Vietnam-era divisions, many of us remained deeply committed to the patriotic ways, although it soon became a political statement and not a healthy way of life. It became a point of contention as if to seek for greater exercise of freedom- the very fundamental of our country- was unpatriotic. But the flag leading the parade, a Sousa march, Fourth of July fireworks continued to make me feel a sense of hope.

Over the last several years I have had the added joy of being able to play in our local Fourth of July concert. To stand with the trumpets and play the closing section of "Stars and Stripes Forever" is a musical moment of patriotic joy; to play the Army field march takes me back to learning if from my Dad and I think of his service and sacrifice; the noise of firecrackers and the crowd having fun is what it is all about.

Last year, however, I had a moment in the middle of the concert that caught my attention. It was, of course, in the midst of the presidential election campaign. Donald Trump was ready to be nominated. I had the thought, "What if he wins? Is this our last truly free celebration of our independence?" I pushed it away, not out of denial, but of the hope and trust in our American way to do the right thing.

Trump did win. So far we have not lost our American way. I think we are still free. But the signs are not as hopeful as they were a year ago.

• We know that the Russians in some way or another have worked at hacking our election- the very foundation of our democratic process. (I still do not believe there was actual, active collusion between the Russians and Trump. I am not so sure of some of his campaign staff, however.)
• Fake news through social media and perhaps even the Russians has brought a division and an ongoing and escalating attack on the integrity of our freedom of the press- another basic foundation. 
• The President himself continues to take strange and seemingly irrational actions against anyone who may disagree with him. 
• Last week a commission has requested all voter data from all 50 states, including information that may not be public, potentially threatening the rights of privacy of our electoral process.

As a result of all this ongoing chaos in our national politics I almost started crying in the midst of the "Armed Forces Salute" the other night at a concert rehearsal. That's where we start with the Caissons Song. As I was thinking of Dad, sadness and even dread started to well up. What I am seeing in the things going on appears to be as great a threat to who we are as a nation than anything since the Civil War. Some of the very basic elements of American freedom and democracy are being challenged in the name of security. The advances in science we have enjoyed are being called questioned. Care for the poor and the elderly are being attacked.

Underneath those is the even deeper question that got Trump elected in the first place- the increasing losses of a healthy middle class. Instead of working on these together and developing new and creative plans for making a difference, we are expanding and exploiting the differences in the name of political gain. Add to that the just as deep issue of racism and the rise of white supremacy taking advantage of the divisions- and we have a difficult time to be living in.

This is not the country I grew up in. These are not the ways of greatness. They leave me with a sense of dread that I have written about here before. The courts have shown some ability to slow down some of the more troubling aspects. People have taken to the streets in mostly peaceful protests, interrupted only by, as usual, a small handful of those who are there only to make trouble.

There is not much I can do about any of this in action. I can write these words; I can talk to friends who may not agree with me and make sure I listen to them as much as I hope they will listen to me. I can, in my actions on a daily basis show that I am one who wants things to be different.

In the end I have to maintain my personal hope in the institutions and history that have allowed us to get to this 241st anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. The great American Experiment of freedom is still a work in progress. I pray that it continues to be alive and filled with hope. I cannot- and must not give up on that hope.

THAT is what patriotism is all about.

Struggling- But On the Road

I realized last week that I am still in the recovery mode from last year's election. I am not as stuck as I was in November and December, but I recognized in a discussion last week that I have not gotten back to the energy and excitement that I had before that. To watch the ongoing circus of tearing apart the nation we have built over the past 25-40 years is downright scary. It is like the current administration (and GOP leaders) see it as their mission to undo absolutely everything progressive and hopeful for anyone not in the 1%.

In the midst of all this I have continued to play trumpet and have worked hard at my improvisation and overall skills. As I look back at it, that was all that kept me going some days. This weekend I have been at the UW-Eau Claire annual Jazz Fest. I have listened to some great music, reconnected with a number of musical friends and mentors, and found my groove beginning to fall into place.

I am a work in progress. I don't want to ignore the world around me that looks like it is being undone on a regular basis. Nor do I want that undoing to pull me down.

Music!

Thanks be to God for such a wonderful gift!

In Honor of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

 This week, perhaps more than in any year since Dr. King died:

The work continues, 

the truth marches on.

(Lyrics by Julia Ward Howe, 1861,

in support of the Union forces in the Civil War.)

Dark Night of the Soul #3: An Earlier Experience

My only previous experience of a dark night-type experience was over 30 years ago now. Details have become foggy, but it all began with a premonition. I envisioned a war in the Middle East during August of 1982. About two years earlier, in 1980, I had been asked to choose hymn verses and write prayers for our denominational devotional, The Daily Texts. I was assigned August 1982. As I read through the daily scriptures for the month I found myself growing afraid. They seemed to indicate that a war was coming in the Middle East. This idea got planted firmly in my conscious and unconscious mind.

This was only enhanced in November 1980 when I hosted a trip to Israel. Among the group who traveled with me were several people who believed that the Second Coming was imminent. An important part of that view is war in the Middle East. They spent a great deal of time talking about that as we toured the country. They almost seemed more interested in that than in the religious and spiritual aspects of the trip. The visit to Har Megiddo (Armageddon) was particularly difficult!

One afternoon I had some free time and I went to one of the hills on the outskirts of Jerusalem and sat there meditating, contemplating and praying. I could envision fighter jets flying over the walls of the Old City. My overactive imagination did its thing. It cemented the fear and uncertainty I was feeling. It remained there when I returned home. A few months after the trip our daughter was born. Now there was more reason to fear and worry.

I lost many nights sleep over the next 18 months. I didn’t talk about it to anyone for months. It was a constant presence in my thoughts, under the surface at times, but always bubbling up in the night. I became interested in St. John of the Cross and his writing at that point, but was unable to truly connect it with what I was going through. Nothing I did seemed to ease the tension. I began trying to figure out how to survive the coming war. It was no longer located in the Middle East in my imagination. It had become World War III. We owned a vacation place in the wilds of northern Pennsylvania so I decided that this would be as good a place as any to survive such a war. I planned that we would go there for the month of August. I never explained why.

I did go to see a pastoral counselor at one point. All he did was make it worse. “It must be something to have that ability at premonition,” was the only comment I remember. Not a help. I don’t think he was being sarcastic. Ironic, maybe. I did finally talk to my wife about it, but by then I was overwhelmed and just looking forward to getting past August. I knew it was crazy, but it was still alive.

Needless to say nothing happened. August 1982 came and went. I went back to “normal” life- or so I thought. Looking back from 35 years later I see that something else happened. It was but the beginning of a longer dark night that took another six years to finish. During this time my use of alcohol increased significantly. I would go up to our vacation place by myself. I would spend days alternating between drinking myself drunk at night and working on sermon and worship planning during the days. Days were productive; nights were hell. I would find renewal in the daylit woods and writing but the darkness would bring the demons. It is not an unusual pattern for a deepening alcoholic. I didn’t realize it was happening and even had trouble describing it several years later when faced with the outcome. But I tried something- in July 1984 we moved from Pennsylvania to Wisconsin.

Geographic escapes don’t work any better than any other actions of denial. The darkness was deepening and I was oblivious to the problems. A number of other personal and emotional storms began to develop. I began to question my own direction, desires, calling. I was outwardly doing well; inwardly I was falling apart. And no one knew it. Least of all myself. Can I blame it on the inability to identify the dark night of the early 1980s? Could it have been avoided if I had taken a different approach before it reached these stages?

No, I don’t think so. One of the difficulties of becoming spiritually mature and insightful is that you have to be old enough to have had the necessary experiences. Premature maturity is truly an oxymoron. The darkness at the beginning of that decade was the start of the dark night. It was setting the stage for what was to come. Through the mid-1980s I struggled with an inner darkness. I thought there had to be light shining somewhere in there; in truth I was fooling myself since I was looking for answers in my own understanding. I was refusing to allow the spirit touch my soul, although I knew that I wanted it.

My drinking expanded. It was a classic binge drinking pattern. It was easy to binge when I was away from home. I would go to conferences and hide in my room at night. I would visit friends in New York and make sure I had enough to drink when I was alone in what I called my “monk’s cell” in their apartment. I would walk the streets of New York with loneliness in the midst of eight million people. I was lost in my own darkness and unable to see the dark night St. John talked about.

Until finally, in late 1988 I had my own epiphany. I had become an alcoholic. I needed help. I entered treatment. Part of me expected it to be an escape. It turned into freedom. I thought it would be a way out of the inner hell I had created. Instead it became a way through that hell. It was a true dark night for in reality the night that John describes is an awareness of- and acceptance of- powerlessness and personal unmanageability in all areas of one’s life. Which is, of course, the First Step of Alcoholics Anonymous. I wouldn’t have used the words from John’s first stanza at that time. I do now!

On a dark night,
Kindled in love with yearnings
--oh, happy chance!--
I went forth without being observed,
My house being now at rest.

John describes this first stanza of the dark night as purging the lower self- the sensual self. In my years of sobriety and work as a substance abuse counselor, I would say that this is a good way to describe the work of the first three steps of AA. That purging or “housecleaning” is then described in steps four through nine. It is necessary. Most addicts and alcoholics have been hijacked by the senses and feelings of the “pleasure center” of the brain. Or rather, their chemical use has hijacked that area and turned their lives into hell. There is a constant search in the bottle or the pills, the weed or the next line, to get rid of the thoughts and feelings that seem to never go away.

—Oh, happy chance!— 

 that I was able to go forth and discover, in the midst of darkness, the light that shines in that darkness.

I could spend many days putting the dark night and early recovery together, which is not the purpose of this particular series. When I started this discussion of the dark night and how I have come to approach the current political and cultural issue I did not expect it to go this direction. I did not- and do not- have the whole thing outlined and ready for “prime time.” It is through my times of writing that these things work out. As I wrote the first two posts I realized that, for me, this is part of a longer and more profound journey. In putting this together I am describing my pilgrimage and its present location. I do not believe that this is unique to me. The language I use in the telling is mine but the experiences are far more common than not.

Within the next week we will have a new president. The divisiveness, anger, fear, and even hatred shown in the campaign and transition period was what spurred this series. There are times when I see a post on Facebook or a news story about some particularly difficult event that I get this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. Anxiety builds; darkness seems to be more prevalent. It doesn’t appear as if that is going away any time soon. For today, and at least the next few weeks, the question is how do I live and grow through this? The Dark Night remains the best paradigm for me to work from.

In the next post I will delve more deeply into the path the dark night takes us on. John is very clear about what that is and why. I will utilize my experience of the Twelve Steps in that, but it is not about alcoholism or addiction. It is about the spiritual journey. John states that the goal of this journey into the dark night is

the state of the perfect, which is that of the Divine union of the soul with God.

I don’t think it is a coincidence that the purpose of the twelve Steps is the same, though in different words-

Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps… and to practice these principles in all our affairs. [emphasis added]

Dark Night of the Soul #2: St. John of the Cross

In the first post of this series on the dark night and the movement from last year’s election, I introduced the relief I felt when I realized that my experience and possibly that of others, was a movement of the soul for me. At the heart of it was the nearly 500-year old understanding of the movement toward union and unity with God.

The image of the Dark Night of the Soul in that growth toward union comes from the mystical vision and writings of St. John of the Cross. It is deeply embedded into Christian mysticism and Catholic tradition. It is powerful and life-changing.

Saint John of the Cross (1542 – 1591) was a major figure of the Counter-Reformation, a Spanish mystic, a Roman Catholic saint, a Carmelite friar and a priest. He is also known for his writings. Both his poetry and his studies on the growth of the soul are considered the summit of mystical Spanish literature and one of the peaks of all Spanish literature. -https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_of_the_Cross

John, though 25 years her junior, was a contemporary, and a colleague of St. Teresa of Avila (1515-1582). Together their writings and work are the foundation of over 400 years of prayer and faithfulness. Their friendship cultivated John’s visions that became the understanding of the dark night of the soul.

The Dark Night of the Soul, a poem written in 1578 or 1579, narrates the journey of the soul from her bodily home to her union with God. It happens during the night, which represents the hardships and difficulties she meets in detachment from the world and reaching the light of the union with the Creator. There are several steps in this night, which are related in successive stanzas. The main idea of the poem can be seen as the painful experience that people endure as they seek to grow in spiritual maturity and union with God. -https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_Night_of_the_Soul

When I first came across the idea of a dark night over 35 years ago, I thought, as do many, that it is a time of great distress, loss, and uncertainty. While those are some of the experiences of a dark night, to get stuck on that idea is to lose the incredible power of what this is all about.

The main idea of the poem can be seen as the joyful experience of being guided to God. The only light in this dark night is that which burns in the soul. And that is a guide more certain than the mid-day sun. (Aquésta me guiaba, más cierto que la luz del mediodía.) This light leads the soul engaged in the mystic journey to divine union. -https://en.wikipedia.or/wiki/Dark_Night_of_the_Soul

The poem begins with an underlying joy, in spite of the darkness:

On a dark night,
Kindled in love with yearnings
--oh, happy chance!--
I went forth without being observed,
My house being now at rest.

In darkness and secure,
By the secret ladder, disguised
--oh, happy chance!--
In darkness and in concealment,
My house being now at rest.

In the happy night,
In secret, when none saw me,
Nor I beheld aught,
Without light or guide,
save that which burned in my heart.

Note the repetition of “oh, happy chance!” in stanzas one and two and “In the happy night” at the start of the third. John is letting his readers know that while the darkness and trials of the “night” may seem things to be avoided, there is more to this than meets the eye- or any of the normal senses. This is a higher power than our human powers. This is the work of God. This is a way toward union with the very Creator of the universe.

It has been felt by some that all people go through these ups and downs of living. It is such a powerful phrase that seems to describe many human reactions, such use is no surprise. But, no, this is different. It is different in quality, in source, and finally, in its conclusion.

The "dark night of the soul" does not refer to the hardships and difficulties of life in general, although the phrase has understandably been taken to refer to such trials. The nights which the soul experiences are the necessary purgations on the path to divine union: the first is of the sensory or sensitive part of the soul, the second of the spiritual part. Such Purgations comprise the first of the three stages of the mystic journey, followed by Illumination and Union. -https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_Night_of_the_Soul

Which is why I was at first hesitant to apply the dark night to what I have been going through since the beginning of November. So many people were reacting in ways similar to the way I was feeling. It was situational, built from the shock and negativity of the election. It might even see self-righteous, grandiose, or even insensitive to take this solely upon myself. It’s not all about me, in spite of what I may want to believe.

But then I realized- remembered(?!)- that God comes to us in the midst of our own individual lives. God speaks to us from the events of the world we live in. God calls us into deeper union by what is occurring in our own souls. Might it be that the feelings engendered by the election are part of something in me that I need to pay attention to? Might it be that for me this is the next phase of my own spiritual movement? Might it be that by publishing this on my blog others might find a way through their own experiences that just might be for them a dark night experience?

I have been interested in mysticism for almost 50 years. I have been intrigued by the mystical traditions of my Christian faith as well as the faith of my Jewish ancestors. I have been moved by the mystical world of the Muslim poet Rumi, the depth of Howard Thurman’s practices, and Evelyn Underhill’s explanations. Mystical stories have been found in my own Moravian history in the renewal of the ancient church by an experience of the Holy Spirit in the 1720s at the same time as the mysticism of the Baal Shem Tov was revolutionizing Eastern European Judaism. I saw the events of the charismatic movement and wondered.

There is something deep, profound, and ultimately world-shattering about these- and the countless other examples from myriad traditions and places.With all this, it should probably not have surprised me when the mystical tradition of St. John of the Cross and St. Terese of Avila, two of my favorites, came to the surface as a result of these past two months. In these two posts so far I have set the history. In the next one I will explain some of my past exposure to the dark night and its place in who I am- and most likely in who I am becoming.

Dark Night of the Soul #1: Awareness

It finally became clear to me yesterday what this whole thing with the post-election blahs and blues has been- and is. I should have recognized it; I’ve been through it before. The symptoms are real.

• There is a darkness that seems to be holding me down. 
• There is the inability to think clearly and in thoughtful sentences. 
• Moments of panic or anxiety attack when least expected. 
• A Facebook meme or a news article related to the election and the in-coming administration cause the floor to sink beneath me. 

At first I thought it was part of the grief process of the election. That was part of it, but it felt too strong, too profound for that alone.

I now see that what I am facing is truly a dark night of the soul.

Do not take that as a condemnation of Mr. Trump or anyone else. The dark night of the soul is not a disaster waiting to happen. Rather it is, in many ways, an awakening to the darkness that leads us to light. It is a beginning of acceptance of the reality that is ever around us. It is awareness that we are poor, powerless human beings who, left to our own devices will pretty well screw it all up. (An understatement!) The dark night comes when we leave the uncertain and human-made light and seek answers in those places we are often afraid to enter- most often the depths of the human heart and soul at its worst- and at its best.

    •    We fear the racism and prejudice of some people- because we know it is not that far beneath our own surface. I know it is in me and I am afraid.
    •    We react to the blind greed of others- because we know that we are in it for ourselves as well. We believe if it’s good for us, it’s good for everyone- even if it isn’t. I know I can be greedy and I am ashamed.
    •    We react to the demeaning of others of different faiths or gender or lifestyle- because we know we have been guilty of the same reactions to those who were on the winning side. I know of times I have looked askance at someone different from me and I am guilty.
    •    I get angry at the possibility of decreasing my Social Security or Medicare- because I know how vulnerable I can be and anger is easier to express that sadness.
    •    I don’t know how to interact with those on the other side who seem so God-awful sure of themselves- because I have felt that way.
    •    I don’t know how to express hope that things will get better- because politics is often nothing more than hope deferred.
    •    I don’t know how to stand up for what I feel is right and appropriate- because I have been doing that for fifty years and I am tired.

So it came as a moment of incredible relief when I realized what it is that I - and many - are going through. For me and my understanding, the dark night of the soul is a time of growth and cleansing. It is a period of self-examination, confession, atonement, and forward movement. It is my soul telling me to take the next steps into a deeper life of the spirit. I can’t say it has eased my fears or anger to have come to that. It is only a new insight. But at least I now have a direction, an opening that, from past experience and knowledge, I know can be healing and holy.

I am going to attempt in several posts over the next month to look at this a little more fully and share it with you here. Please feel free to react and respond to me. Again, it is NOT a criticism of Mr. Trump, his followers, Republicans, Democrats, Hillary Clinton, or anyone else. The election was so hateful, negative, and out-of-control that many on both sides feel frustrated and wrung out. We may very well find ourselves searching our national soul in these next months and years to find a new anchor, a renewed sense of who we are as a nation.

We must stay in this together. We must talk, disagree, agree, laugh, cry and eventually move forward together. Our national spirit is calling us to do so.

Just Saying...

I realized over the weekend that I am still somewhat underwater from the election, even after five weeks. Wow. Actually, it is more like going back under after a short respite in the air. I have been traveling, but have also been finding it hard to keep on track with this blog and a bunch of other things. The reasons are obvious:

• Nominations of serious billionaires who have little to no experience in the fields they will oversee didn't help; 
• cabinet nominations of people opposed to the work of the agencies they govern didn't help;
• pro-Russian businessman didn't help; 
• international relations actions didn't help;
• CIA and FBI arguing about intelligence [sic] didn't help; 
• Trump stating he didn't need intelligence [sic] briefings because he is a smart person [sic] didn't help.

Time will tell- if we have the time.

On "Getting Over It"

It has become one of those common posts these past ten days:

Get over it. You lost.

The winners almost always say that. If it were only that easy. "Getting over it" takes time when you lose something- a job you've been hoping and working for, a World Series or Super Bowl championship (as a fan), an election that you were passionate about. That IS what the grief process does, helps us work through our sense of loss. Getting over it? Until you can pull yourself up by your own bootstraps, it doesn't work that way.

(Sidenotes: 1) That does not mean rioting and trashing and good ways of going through grief!
2) It has also been noted on Facebook that some of those telling the losers to "get over it" are carrying Confederate flags. Just saying.)

A Post-Election Reminder (from Years Gone By)

Comedian Pat Paulsen "running" for President.

His famous campaign slogan:

We Can't Stand Pat!

Words (Sort of) Fail Me

Actually, it is not the words that fail me tonight, it is the ability to put them into sensible thoughts.

• Sadness- deep sadness over a loss in this less than hopeful election season just ended.
• Uncertainty- what will this change mean?
• Fear- what has this victory unleashed?
• Conflict- values and basic understandings of life and even of the role of our democracy in conflict- deep, divided conflict.

This will most likely go down in the long catalog of historic elections as one of the top game-changers. Nothing quite like this has ever happened before. A man with no public service experience, no government experience, no seeming understanding of how nations and governments are different from business.

More thoughts will come; more reflections will arise. We as a nation are in a different place tonight than we were when polls started closing on Tuesday. We have no idea what the next four months, let alone the next four years will bring. But yet, we are still the United States of America. We are all in this together.

Let me repeat the quote that I put on this page earlier today.

After climbing a great hill, one only finds

that there are many more hills to climb.

-Nelson Mandela

Actually, I chose all the quotes of these past two weeks at the very start. I knew that when we got to this day very little will have been resolved. No matter who won, I knew, we would have a very long way to become more united again. We have been deeply split; many feel deeply wounded. The voice of the people who felt left out has been expressed through Donald Trump. The wounded ones today are those who had other dreams of a nation living out its ideals.

It is not over. The great American experiment, the exceptional quality of this kind of democracy, is never finished. The pendulum swings from one side to another; one group is in the majority today, another will be in the majority next time. We must uphold that gift we have exercised for 240 years of a peaceful transition of power. Then we must move together to find the common ground, not allowing ourselves to get lost in recrimination, repudiation, vengeance, or just plain old apathy. There are many hills left to climb.

May we climb them together, even when we don't agree on what they might mean.

One More Election Quote: The Day After

After climbing a great hill, one only finds

that there are many more hills to climb.

-Nelson Mandela

Twelve Quotes till Election Day: Election Day 2016

Every election is determined by the people who show up.

― Larry J. Sabato

Twelve Quotes till Election Day: E -1

Twelve Quotes till Election Day: E -2

The ballot is stronger than the bullet.

― Abraham Lincoln

Coming to the End - What If.....?

The long, very strange road to the election is almost over.

Here are some of the thoughts I have rumbling around in my mind today. I am fed up, burned out, and just plain finished with the election. All I want to do is give you a few bits that I have heard on radio and TV the past week. No filling in the blanks- just the basics. Maybe next week it will clear. Maybe not.

• Trump has unleashed some demons that won't easily be contained.
• Hillary is a lightning rod and will probably not be able to do anything to win over those who don't like her. There is probably absolutely nothing she can do, esp. if the opposition won't attempt in any way to work with her.
• Some of the demons include racism and sexism. But beyond those- and perhaps more difficult in the long run- is the middle class white anger at what they perceive as the loss of their hope while others seem to be the beneficiaries of their hope.
•  US politics looks more like European politics than it ever has. Trump is a known type over there- conservative, mildly fascist. Sanders is also the other known type- the democratic socialist. Hillary is a throwback to the old politics.

• Chris Matthews on MSNBC
• If Trump polls 40%, and he very well could, pundits and the "elite establishment" better pay attention. It is significant that he, in spite of everything(!) could still get that kind of support. It says something very important that better not be overlooked by either left- or right-wings. Bernie Sanders did the same on the left. Together that would have made quite a majority if they could have agreed on issues. 

So, with all that in mind, that is about all I want to say until it's over. Maybe I can hibernate until Wednesday. Politics-wise- see you on the flip-side.

Twelve Quotes till Election Day: E -3

In America, anyone can become president.

That’s the problem.

—George Carlin

Twelve Quotes till Election Day: E -4

Any American who is prepared to run for president should automatically, by definition, be disqualified from ever doing so. ~Gore Vidal

Twelve Quotes till Election Day: E -5

If we got one-tenth of what was promised to us in these acceptance speeches there wouldn't be any inducement to go to heaven.

~Will Rogers