On Elections and Life

I burned my hand.

I remember it vividly.

It happened 8 years ago.

I was cooking in the kitchen, and I did something stupid. I held my hand absent-mindedly over an electric kettle while I was cooking. I turned on the kettle and reached for something on the shelf above it. I burned my hand. I was surprised I could do something so stupid.

It was maybe a day before the 2016 election. Somehow, it struck me as an Omen. I dreaded the possibility that Trump could actually be elected.

If I could foolishly hold my hand over boiling steam, America could foolishly elect a madman. Right? Right. Well, we did. And we were held captive for 4 years by probably the most narcissistic person in the world. I did not bear the worst of it. Many people in worse situations or more marginalized groups than I am had much worse times than I was ever personally exposed to.

The night of the election, I burned my hand.

I did something stupid.

I was filtering chickpeas out of water and used a thin metal bowl to catch the water underneath it. Then, I picked up the bowl with my left hand while supporting the chickpeas in the strainer with my right. Metal conducts heat very well. I realized this immediately when I picked it up. My muscles reacted instinctively and pulled away from the heat, splashing the boiling water all over my hand.

It hurt. It was a natural response to the stimulus of the heat. Feeling this on my hand, I quickly realized I needed to hold the bowl more firmly or risk splashing more boiling water on myself and all over the kitchen. I redoubled my efforts. I readjusted my hand so I would not expose myself to the hottest place on the bowl. I quickly brought it over to the sink and put it down.

This was also an omen, I thought. I’m sure I’ve burned myself with boiling water several times since Trump was elected eight years ago. The last time I vividly remember was holding my hand over the steam on that November night eight years ago.

“Shit,” I thought. He’ll win again, won't he? Not because of the boiling water (of course not). But because of the world. Because of the economy, because of inflation, because of Afghanistan, because of Gaza, because of fear, because of many things, things behind things.

As compelling as 34 convictions and a long history of being a crook are to some of us, to others, they have other (in some way valid) concerns. People across the aisle see the world differently from us, but they are not different from us. Everyone wants love, and everyone is afraid about the state of the world. I may disagree with their methods, but they are human (I am quite sure).

And so, he won.

I didn’t wake up with the same dread I did last time. I stayed up late enough last night to see the writing on the wall. I woke up and saw the final call.

The water didn’t burn me the same way, either. It wasn’t pointless, and it wasn’t foolishness. It was a situation I entered into by mistake, with good intentions. I could have dropped the bowl immediately when I felt the heat. Instead, I held it (can I hold it?) and acted as best I could. I brought it to the sink.

I didn’t wake up with dread today. I woke up. I said, “This too.” I can be with this. I can hold this. I can look at the challenges in life and the joy and understand that both will pass away. I can see that both are interdependent. Without the bad, there is no good. Without the joy, there can be no sorrow, and vice versa.

We don’t know what the future will hold. Still on today, of all days, I am optimistic, despite it all. Because of it all. Yes, Trump will be the 47th President. This is the future that lies before us. How will we react?

I was walking today and saw graffiti I have probably seen a hundred times before. Today, it struck with new poignancy. It said, simply, “Amen.”

I can imagine seeing that same graffiti eight years ago. I would have cried and thought, “What does it matter? God doesn’t exist. This graffiti is proof of it. What a cruel joke that life is.” Why does God challenge us? Why is life not paradise if God exists? What better proof that they do not?

Why, too, can Joy not exist without Sorrow? Everything is in Balance. Duality is the way of the world. Beyond Duality, there is a field. I will wait for you there.

Today, I saw the “Amen,” and I thought, “Amen.”

“I believe.”

This, too, is part of the story. I didn’t want this. We don’t get the things we want. We get reality as it is. This is reality. I believe in the path for each of us despite this. I believe in it because of this. This loss today rests on everything else, just as we do.

We are all one in this divine dance. Every piece rests upon every other piece. To deny our interconnectedness is to deny the truth of this reality.

In this way, we are all the same—divine or mundane. The hopes and fears of the other side are the same as ours. There are no sides. If we cannot see our opponent as ourselves, we will never know peace.

We know not the path before us. We are not privy to the heart of man or the thoughts of the sparrow. A tortoise keeps her own council.

Never doubt there is a path. The path is always there; the only thing that doubts it is our mind. Listen not to doubt, fear, or want. Hear them, but do not heed their counsel.

In mindfulness training, there is a topic called the “zone of tolerance.” It refers to the zone of awareness where we can be open and accept challenging (or easy) sensations.

One goal in mindfulness training (as well as endurance athletic training) is to expand our zone of tolerance. We want to be able and willing to sit with continually more challenging experiences and sensations until we are able to sit with literally anything.

If you have ever seen an image of a Buddhist monk who has self-immolated but is sitting in perfect full-lotus posture as they leave this plane of existence, they have taken this training to an extreme.

Angela Davis comes to mind:

I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change. I am changing the things I cannot accept.”

Trump is a challenging phenomenon. We should not tolerate his actions (if they are immoral, illegal, or corrupt), but we must tolerate this experience. We must be present with the truth of the present moment.

Perhaps, indeed, the old strictures and institutions should not survive. Is Capitalism a system that still serves the majority of us if our richest are hoarding so lavishly while our poorest die in the streets?

I do not know what will survive. Our decency, however, must.

We are not built to suffer.

We are built to love.

I already know it. If you doubt it, keep going.

And please, please do not give up. We need good people.

and I Love you.

And if you voted for Trump.

I Love you, too.