The Truth Is Ugly and It Hurts

Before I lose you in what I'm about to say, I want to make one thing very clear. Donald Trump should not be president. There is no way that I can support him, anything he has said, or his past behavior, and I can't imagine doing so in the future. If he fell off the face of the earth, I would heave a "yuge" sigh of relief and move along without looking back. 

The Republican party has been blamed for creating this monster. There are the jokes about the decision they have made and how they have to carry it to term. There is some irony in this situation and there is truth in the theories. Members of this party have so staunchly defended anyone in their ranks that they have backed themselves into a corner with this one. And, while a lot of this is satisfying to members of other parties, and it's somewhat fascinating to watch a faction of the political system disintegrate before our eyes, the rest of us have to admit our own culpability. 

Yep, I'm saying it. We are all responsible for this mess. We, the collective "we." We, as an American society. We have contributed to the nastiness, the name-calling, the blaming, the inappropriate language and behavior. We sensationalized the death of a tiny pageant contestant and then we mourned when a princess was killed and thought that was the pinnacle, that we would change. We urged each other to change. To stop buying the gossip rags and watching the shows that titillated us with all things that were None of Our Business. But then we watched a "celebrity" sex tape and now we greedily await the next one. And the next. We made a celebrity out of a burping, farting family whose central star was named Honey Boo Boo. We watch eligible bachelors and bachelorettes choose among multiple suitors and judge their choices like Monday morning quarterbacks. We read gossip blogs and pick apart the choices people make while hiding behind our keyboards. We feel safe being harsh and mean to those we don't even know when using the mask of anonymity. 

We may not audibly and intentionally support Donald Trump, but we have condoned his gross behavior in a hundred other separate, seemingly innocent acts. The behaviors we have rewarded with our interest have culminated into the Pile of Yuck that is Donald Trump. 

Over the weekend I attended a book festival and got to introduce a couple of the authors during one of the sessions. Both authors had written women as the heroes of their novels and, maybe because of our current political and social climate, I asked if it is necessary that there be a Bad Man in a story in order to juxtapose the woman as the Good Heroine. Both authors, both female, said no, that the impetus for the heroines in their stories were other women and that women can be just as evil. Which brings me to another point. 

So many of us, including myself, wonder how on earth a woman can support Trump. Especially after the things we've heard him say again and again. I have wondered if their self-esteem is so low that they truly believe only a man can be president. However, like my authors said, women can be just as evil and even more so towards other women. I've heard women say out of one side of their mouths how they support their sisterhood while in the next breath they spew unwarranted and unnecessary criticism. I have, in an effort to pretend that rape couldn't happen to ME, questioned what a victim wore. As long as I didn't dress a certain way, or go to certain bars, or leave my house on a Tuesday at 9:17 p.m., the same thing couldn't happen to me. None of which really matters and only serves to distance myself from a woman who really needs help. 

As moms, we constantly vilify other moms for their choices. If she works too much, who is taking care of her children? Why is she so "cold" towards them? Won't they feel abandoned and why doesn't she understand how important her Role As a Woman is?? If she chooses to stay home with her children, she is flat and one-dimensional and should have other interests because her children won't be around forever and then she won't even know who she is. Don't her daughters deserve a better role model and how will her sons learn to respect women? 

Yes, we are all guilty. We have all had the same thoughts and said the same things as Trump. But now, when the sum total of all of this ugliness is held up to us in mirror-form, we recoil, we feel disgust, we feel shame. He says not only what he thinks, but what we have thought at one time or another. Part of why we hate him is because we hate that part of ourselves. 

So maybe this is a time for self-reflection. If we don't like what we see in the proverbial mirror, then maybe we change it. Maybe we say yes, I am guilty. Yes, I have said that and done that and wanted the wrong thing. We recognize those parts of ourselves and make a conscious decision to change. Instead of giving in to the baser parts of humanity, we take out the damaged parts and rebuild ourselves as something better. We stop feeding the beast with gossip and pre-judgments and criticism and hate. When we, all of us, or at the very minimum the majority of us, act from compassion and kindness and truth and careful thought, people like Donald Trump aren't allowed to exist. He isn't nourished by fairness and knowledge but lies and marginalization. 

I think, or rather strongly hope, that most of us are aware of just how dangerous it would be to elect Trump as our president. But I think it's just as dangerous to continue on as we have. Unless we take a real inventory of ourselves as a society and as individuals, this will just be a trial run. The next time we might not be so lucky. If we are, indeed, lucky now. 

What a Difference a Dollar Makes

Last week I went to see one of my very favorite bands, Pink Martini. They were playing with the Nashville Symphony and were more fantastic than any other time I have seen them because of the concert hall. Extraordinary. Really. If you have never seen them, shame on you and change that very soon. But that's not what this is about.

Lately I've been hearing about people being shot and kidnapped downtown. It seems a bit too much for Nashville where everyone is so friendly and nice, but we have to remember it's still a city. I parked in the expensive lot right across from the concert hall.

As I was about to use the pay machine, I heard someone yelling at me and when I turned to look, it was a dirty, old, frightening-looking homeless man. "Hey lady! Girl! Excuse me, lady!!!!" He was gruff and loud and I have to admit I was frightened and tried to ignore him. He walked right up to me and proceeded to tell me that I could save $11 if I parked in the lot a block away. I was quite surprised that someone who appears to not own a car knew the prices of the parking lots in the area. He did quiet down once he had reached me so I thanked him for the advice and hoped he would just move on. He was holding a small handful of pansies and offered me one. "I carry these around to hand out to the ladies." I thanked him and chose the purplest one.

He then asked me if I could help him get a hotel. Excuse me???? "Could you help me get a hot dog?" Oh, a hot dog. Yes, of course. I don't usually carry cash but I knew I had change from earlier in the week so I gave him the $6 I had. You would think I had bought him a house. "Six dollars!!! I can go to Burger King. My sweetie and I are pretty hungry. We can both get a meal there because they're $2.89 so we can each get one. Thank you. Thank you so much."

I waited to use the pay machine while he walked away but then he turned around again. "God bless you. And you know he does. Bless you."

That encounter stayed with me all night and throughout the weekend. Who the fuck gets excited to go to Burger King? That's what I settle for when I'm starving and nothing else is close. Starving. I really don't know what it's like to starve. Not truly. Not like that man. I think he told me his name was Jeff. He had manners and shook my hand. And, stupid me, in my flustered state, I shook his hand while still holding my debit card. I don't think he could have gotten far in his state or at his age, but he didn't even touch it. He was a gentleman.

My depression has been nearly overwhelming lately. The attacks in Paris. Political posturing and daily arguments from both sides. Sex slave trading. Shootings and kidnappings. The complexities of the world are too much for me to bear most days. I cry and moan over these things while I sit inside my dry house, sipping wine and snuggling puppies. Reading books that are easily bought; I can even have them delivered to my home. Under cozy blankets. Those things do fill me with gratitude. I have the love of friends, I have a job. I am thankful for these things.

But I'm also grateful that I had a small glimpse into the life of someone without these things. I'm grateful to know that people who live with so much less have so much to offer. He gave me advice on the price of parking and offered me a cheap flower he probably picked from an empty lot, but it was more than that. It sounds trivial even trying to describe it in words, but I think what he gave me is hope. Hope that even when you have nothing, when your belly is empty and you have let your pride go far enough that you will ask a stranger to buy you a hot dog. That even then, you can be kind to someone who has so much more than you. You can use manners. You can offer help. You can change someone's night or their weekend.

I hope my friend Jeff got to go to Burger King twice that weekend. I hope his flowers were accepted graciously. I hope he had somewhere dry and warm to sleep. I hope someone hugged him and appreciated his presence.

I hope we all have reminders of how lucky we are. How we're not alone. How it's the little things that bind us together. I hope we never lose this humanity.

How to Grow Your Heart Two Sizes

I watched the president's speech in Newtown last night and cried. My heart goes out to everyone in that community. This morning I arrived at work only to find that the first email was from a co-worker whose father is very ill. It's the happiest time of the year and there is far too much sadness. So, so much of it everywhere.

It's very easy for me to get bogged down in that. I think it's hard for a lot of people this time of year, and depression makes it worse because it already tells me that life sucks. "Give up. Go back to bed. Why bother?"

But I decided that this year is going to be different. I've been so tired the last several years that I've made very little holiday effort. I've gone through the motions but my heart hasn't been in it. Most years I've only done it because of D; otherwise I wouldn't have bothered. Then this year I decided to be spirited and to enjoy the holiday. I still haven't baked enough (or at all) or watched enough Christmas movies but I'm in it more than I have been in recent years.

I loved helping our adopted family. It felt so good to be able to help people that really needed it. But then I keep hearing about more people in similar situations and it feels like I haven't done enough. That helping just one family almost isn't worth it when there are SO MANY people that need help. And I would love to help everyone, but I don't have the resources for that. My bank account only stretches so far.

So yesterday I decided to just give thanks to someone else who is doing something on a regular basis. To give them some encouragement to keep going, to know that their efforts are appreciated. They're both "friends" on Facebook.

One happens to be a little Boston Terrier who visits elderly people and sick children and many other people in need in his community. Of course there is a man with a giant heart behind this little dog who deserves most of the credit. I mean, the dog is adorable and obviously helps people, but he can't answer the phone when he's wanted for an appearance or drive himself there. Even though he does have his own motorcycle.

The other is actually a friend of a friend whom I have never met. She got tired of hearing about all of the shelter dogs who never find homes and decided to do something about it. She adopted two dogs herself from high-kill shelters and then floods my newsfeed daily with photos of other dogs whose lives are on the line. I don't mind. I'm glad someone is doing it. When she posted about how she feels like she isn't doing enough and gets discouraged knowing that so many,  many dogs are still put down daily, I had to respond.

I posted messages to both thanking them for what they do. I chose people with dogs because that is my passion. And it took all of maybe 10 minutes. Probably less. They both responded so I knew that they had heard me, but it wouldn't have mattered if I hadn't heard back. The point was to put a little more niceness out in the world. A little encouragement, a little bit of gratitude.

There isn't enough kindness right now. It's easy to get frustrated at long lines in stores and say something snarky about it. But you know what? It's just as easy to be nice to that cashier when it's your turn. Because she's probably dealt with a hundred crabby people and really needs someone to have some patience with her. It's easy to send out a message to someone you know or even don't know and thank them for what they do. Shovel a neighbor's driveway, let someone in line in front of you, leave a bigger tip than normal.

Someone might be on the verge of giving up. Giving up their cause, their plans, even their life. One kind word or act from you could change that. Even if you never know, you'll at least know you've done your best.

Let's do our best today.