The Seat of Power
A story about being (politically) triggered, and what to do about it.
Rather listen than read? Here is the audio version of this post + a little intro:
The other day, I read an article about the plane crash over Washington D.C. that occurred on January 29.
While the article was about the plane crash itself, the headline included something like “Trump Baselessly Blames Democrats.”
My heart hurt.
My heart hurt to believe Trump would blame half his constituents or the policies they value.
My heart hurt to see this publication center Trump (and a criticism of him) in its coverage of this tragedy.
I sat with my own ache and asked, “Why is this happening?”
In my mind’s eye, I saw the helicopter and the plane collide.
I saw the terrified people aboard.
I saw their families and friends receiving the news.
I saw frantic people in the control tower.
I saw the next day’s plane commuters, perhaps more nervous than the day before.
I saw people in charge who feel responsible for policies to ensure this never happens again.
No matter where I looked, I saw fear.
I broadened my vision to the entire U.S. political scene, and I saw more fear. Fear on nearly every side of every issue.
When we humans are scared, we look for the source of the threat. That is logical. And because most of us have identified ourselves as good and right, we look for the threat out there in someone or something else.
It must be him, her, them, that thing.
If we do find the threat out there then we have two victories: we have found the problem AND our own goodness is still intact.
Unfortunately, this comes at a huge cost: we are unconsciously left feeling powerless because “if they are the problem, then they have to change in order for me to be safe.”
Feeling powerless means we also feel vulnerable and out-of-control, which can breed fury and a desire to regain control. So our fear increases and we feel even more adamant that the problem must be fixed. And since we have decided other people are the problem, it becomes urgent to fix them.
Desperate to regain some control, we try to control others. We judge, we blame, we hate. We may even go to war if that’s what we believe we need to feel safe and keep others safe.
Another option is that we stop looking “out there” for the problem first. We start by asking “How might I be part of the problem?”
And, more importantly, “How might I be part of the solution?”
Candidly, I was quite hesitant to write about this topic.
While I think about politics sometimes, I don’t talk about them publicly very often because this is one topic around which arrows fly freely.
But in exploring my own feelings and thoughts about this issue, I realized this:
There is probably nothing I can do about plane crashes.
And there is little I can do about what Trump says about Democrats
or what Democrats say about Trump.
But there is something I can do about blame.
I can either participate in mudslinging, as I did when I first read that headline (mad at Trump, mad at media), and then feel my heart hurt; because no matter which side I take on this issue or that topic, I’m slinging mud at my neighbors, at my community, at my fellow human beings,
or…
I can be part of a world in which people listen deeply to each other, ask questions, and then listen to the answers.
And when we listen, we listen with our hearts, and listen to learn instead of to argue or defend our position.
I can be part of a world in which we assume positive intent and that most of us want the same things. If we don’t understand something, we open to educating ourselves from curiosity and love rather than righteousness and fear.
I can be part of a world that is working to win together rather than working to win over one another.
To do this, I can watch for blame in my own heart, mind, and speech.
I can explore the fear underneath my own righteousness and tendency to point fingers.
I can listen to others blaming, and ask what is in their hearts, what they are scared about, and what they are trying to protect, rather than push back with my own point-of-view.
I can write this post, and publish it, even though I’m scared. I can speak out about blame and what I see as its source: fear.
And more importantly, I can talk about fear’s motivation, which is love. We only get scared about that which we believe is worth protecting. To love something is to want to protect it.
“Anger in its pure state is the measure of the way we are implicated in the world and made vulnerable through love in all its specifics: a daughter, a house, a family, an enterprise, a land or a colleague.
Anger turns to violence and violent speech when the mind refuses to countenance the vulnerability of the body in its love for all these outer things.”
- David Whyte, from “Anger” in Consolations
Of course you may disagree with me here. You may want to blame me for something I’ve written. You may want to blame Trump or media or Democrats or Republicans.
And of course, you are free to do that. We are all free to blame, and sometimes that’s the most comfortable seat we can find.
But if you ever find that isn’t working for you, if you find you get to the end of a day, a year, or a presidential term feeling more angry, more righteous, or more separate, then consider the other way.
Consider letting everyone—and I mean everyone—off the hook for now. Come home to your own self, your own heart, your own seat of power.
From there you can ask “What kind of world do I want to live in? And who do I have to become to bring that world into being?”
As Welcoming gently reminds us, what we want is available here, right now.
Epilogue.
The very same day after I wrote this post, I found myself in a conversation with a friend who expressed an adamant viewpoint different from my own. Did I listen thoughtfully? Did I ask questions? Did I open my heart?
Hell no! Before I knew what happened, I felt my heart harden. I turned to someone else in the conversation, changing the subject as if the dissenting opinion had never been said. Internally, I seethed.
Ha! Hadn’t I just proclaimed, only hours earlier, that I was committed to being a new kind of person?
“Whoa,” I thought to myself, “This is gonna be hard.”
But I’m glad it happened this way, because it showed me what I’m asking of myself. Easy said, harder done.
So I recorded this exploration for myself and for anyone who has just experienced a dissenting conversation, especially with someone you care about. I named it “After a Disagreement or Fight” so you’d be able to find it, but a better name would have been “Finding Your Way Back to Love” because that’s what it’s really about.
So wise and well written. Thank you for sharing. 🥰
Your thoughts always seem to hit home for me and your drawings are an added bonus.