Hi! So… this is my blog… first post ever. Pretty exciting. I’ll be honest, at this point I have very little of this thing figured out, so forgive me if the themes are not as thrilling as they might be, the pictures make no sense, and God help us all if I can’t figure out how to get that GIANT picture of my own face off of this site before anyone looks at it.
I grew up in a non-political environment. I understand very little of the political process, though it seems that I am not entirely alone in that predicament, judging from what I’m hearing from friends and reading on the Facebook.
In any event, my life path has changed direction in the past several years, and for a minute I thought I was ready to get involved, and then the current campaigns started and… wait for it… yep. The moment was gone. Zero motivation to be involved in this particular circus.
Granted, again, I am not alone. I read and hear many comments about how people are going to leave the country if this one or that one gets voted into office (in truth, it is possible that I may or may not have made such comments myself…), and various other comments indicating a high level of “over it”-ness in the general population.
‘What’s the problem?’ I wondered to myself. Over and over I wondered. (It’s pretty much the main thing I do, really, the wondering.) It doesn’t make sense to me, none of it. The presidential campaigns, the candidates, the proposed political changes, and even outside the realm of the upcoming election you have bathroom drama, wedding cake nonsense, any number of weird and bizarre things that have people on either side in an uproar – shouting, blogging, tweeting, posting, protesting, whatever.
Why? Why is it like this? What has happened to us?
And then, after all my wondering, it came to me. (Which was a pleasant relief, I don’t mind telling you, because more often than not I wonder and wonder and wonder some more and nothing whatever comes of it.)
We have become a nation of individuals who are too tired, weak, unconscious or entitled to be bothered with the weight of our own convictions.
It seems so much easier to let Donald, Hillary, Bernie, or that-other-guy-whose-name-I-cannot-remember-right-now-for-the-life-of-me carry it. They can do the work. They can make the changes. They have the responsibility, the authority, the power, whatever.
Only I’m not sure that’s true. I think we’ve all been suckered in on a very long and drawn out practical joke.
We are not all supposed to agree.
I am pretty much obsessed with the idea that the root of every problem everywhere is insecurity. The good news is, I also happen to have six fingers on my right hand… No, sorry. That’s the wrong line. What I happen to have is the antidote.
Oh, what? You want me to tell you what it is?
People who live for extended periods of time without gravity get flabby, right? Bones and muscles weaken. Why? Because our body needs the responsibility of carrying its own weight.
Our character does too.
We need to feel the weight of our convictions, to work with the weight of them. It is supposed to be a challenge. We need to empower ourselves to do the thing we know we should do whether or not anyone else is willing to do it with us.
You can vote for Bernie and live your same old life while you wait patiently for him to change the status quo. That doesn’t mean you participated in a revolution. That just means you made a mark by Bernie’s name on a piece of paper (unless you were a registered independent, in which case you weren’t allowed to make marks on pieces of paper because those pieces of paper were set aside for registered democrats, but that’s better left for someone else to discuss).
You can vote Trump and refuse to shop local or support local business because it’s too expensive &/or inconvenient. You didn’t do anything to make America any better than it was yesterday. You check-marked for Trump.
Character status: Flabby.
If you have a conviction that you cannot act in harmony with unless everyone else – or at least one person in power – is coerced into acting in harmony with it as well, I hate to break it to you, but you do not actually have a conviction. What you have is a desire to appear to have a conviction. I doubt very much that space station astronauts bother to get their abs airbrushed. The deficiency is real. Pretense is pointless.
Where I once groaned inwardly at the thought of this presidential race, I now feel grateful. I don’t have a candidate right now. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t, but I know how I want to live my life. Convictions are not checkmarks on paper. (Do you even checkmark voting ballots?? The signs I’ve seen in people’s yards always have checkmarks, so I’m assuming. Like I said, this was gonna be my first go-round.)
The votes that count are minutes, efforts, dollars. I cast my vote every minute of every day and build my own strength by taking responsibility for the way I spend my time, my energy, my money. And that will change my world, no matter who happens to take up residence in the White House. My character is gonna have a freakin’ six-pack, yo.