by mksummerbell

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been struggling lately, just to function in everyday life. I know that stress factors are unique to each of us, and yet it seems beyond obvious to me that recent political realities, in this country, and worldwide, are stressfully affecting the majority of people on the planet.

We are living in times of historical turmoil. Regardless of where you fit on the political spectrum, there have been so many changes, so fast – many erratic, some massive – in just the past two months, that it’s difficult just to keep up on reading the news, much less adapting to any of it as it happens. All this shifting is disrupting and disorienting. I suspect that most of us are a little off-kilter, if not deeply disturbed, by current events.

Like them, or not, we are all affected by these changes – directly, or indirectly, and whether we see them as positive, negative, or both, or have no opinions about them. It’s easy to lose our balance in emotional reactions to the many twists and turns and complexities of these challenging circumstances. It can feel as if we have no control over our lives, which is frightening, or that there’s not much we can do to make things better, or more like we would like them to be, realizing that “better” is different for each of us.

Many, many people are feeling afraid, sad, angry, confused, anxious, overwhelmed, hopeless and/or depressed right now. It’s hard to know what to do, or even how to clearly express how we feel and what we think about what’s going on. 

Recently I was having a particularly bad day – feeling old, and tired, and cold, (it was below zero), and unmotivated. There were things I needed to do and I didn’t feel like doing any of them. Ugh!!! I wanted to just stay in my pjs all day, snugly cocooning in layers of cozy blankets – hiding from reality.

The most important thing on my “to do” list was to vote in a local election. I had put my absentee ballot in such a very safe place that I couldn’t find it, which I had been berating myself for, as I looked for it, for days. Now, it was go vote in person, in the cold – or don’t vote. Ugh, again. 

Whatever gumption it was I needed to get myself moving, I managed to gradually gather it up inside myself. Slowly. Resisting all the way. But I did it. 

I ate breakfast, got dressed, put on my snowpants, (yes, I have snow pants), and coat, and boots, and hats, and scarves, and mittens, and drove myself to my voting place and voted. Yay, me.

Afterwards, for no particular reason, (other than maybe more lack of momentum), instead of leaving the building, I sat down at a small table just inside the door. Within minutes, who walks in – cheerful, grinning, greeting me – but an old friend of mine that I hadn’t seen in a while. Years ago, our lives overlapped and we saw each other often. But time changes things. And now we seldom spoke, but for brief news on the phone, or by chance meeting at public events. Our relationship had become a “Hi. How-ya’-doin’? Fine? Me, too. Bye,” kind of thing.

But then, unexpectedly, here we are – chatting away like old times. My friend offered to buy me a warm beverage, which I accepted, and they got one, too. We moved to a table away from the door, and we sat and talked – for over two hours! We rambled on about jobs, kids, relationships, health issues, the “good old days” gone by, present interests, future plans. And, the whole time, not one word about politics. It was wonderful. 

Sitting there with my friend, holding my steeping hot tea in both hands, sipping it carefully between bursts of words, I felt so good. – All warmed up. I was so profoundly affected by this reconnection that I was moved to express my deepest feelings for this person. Reaching across the table, I grasped their hands in mine, looked into their eyes and told them – “There’s something I need to say….I love you.” To which they replied, “Well, I love you, too.” It was a great, deep, meaningful moment. 

We lingered a bit longer before going our different ways. Energized, I finished my list of errands and went home. Later, remembering those moments, I searched inside myself for words to describe, exactly, how I felt to be with my friend again. It was, surprisingly, to me, so – satisfying. Renewing. Uplifting. I felt better than I’d felt for a while. I was amazed at what a lasting perk I got from this one little visit. 

Five days later, about a mile from my house, my car suddenly stopped dead in moving traffic. Crap. Waiting for AAA to respond, I noticed, in the rearview mirror, a man in a big, shiny red truck, just sitting there behind me. When he showed no signs of moving, I walked back to tell him I was broken down, he could go around me. And he said, “I didn’t want to leave you here. I’d keep thinking you could get hurt.” He said this again, several times, in the next hour that he spent helping me. 

Between waves of passing traffic, he turned his truck around in front of my car, and jump-started it twice, but we couldn’t keep it going. So, he turned his truck back around behind me because, he said, “If you got rearended, you’d really be in trouble.” He sat there in his truck until the tow truck came, and then gave me a ride home. 

I was so grateful. I thanked him profusely, and tried to push some cash into his hand, but he wouldn’t take it. I wanted so much to give something back for the help he gave me. So, I told him I would “pay it forward” – that I would help someone else when they needed it. That, he accepted.

I tell you my stories of a friend and a stranger because they are so poignant to me. I think they are both outstanding personal examples of love at work in the world. And they show exactly what we can do to make the world a better place – regardless of politics. Both events, both people, touched something deep in the essence of my being in a light-hearted way that’s somehow different from anything I’ve ever felt before. It’s a curious new feeling that I can’t yet quite describe but that I surely wish I could pass on to you – to everyone, everywhere in this hurting world. 

Lots of people are hurting, right now, for lots of reasons. And we feel it. As spiritual people, we are sensitive. We are feeling the pain of the world. Yes, we feel it deeply. But, please, keep in mind the bright moments. Let’s remind each other, often, that there is goodness and kindness and light in people all around us who care deeply and can sometimes be right there when we need them, as we can sometimes be for them. Be one of those people whenever, wherever, and however you are able. As much as you can, be that bright moment in someone else’s life. 

But also remember that sometimes, ironically, the best we can do to help everyone is to joyfully accept the loving care that comes, in bright, and sometimes also troubling moments, to us. 

“How easily bread and water become toast and tea.”