ichooselove

I’ve had a lot of sleepless nights the past few weeks. I’ve known this is coming, and I’ve had my head in the sand. I think maybe I’m beginning to understand, or at least begin to see what it is that’s bothering me. It’s only come to a head around the presidential nominations. The truth is, it isn’t about the politics. It isn’t about the Republicans, Democrats, the Independents , or the “I just don’t care anymores”. It’s about what all of the stories that we keep reading and hearing represent. It’s what all these people represent. It isn’t about the lack of civility, though it hurts me to my core. It’s about the motivation behind the lack of civility, behind the lies. It’s about a profound lack of love or compassion, and an overwhelming glut of anger and hatred. It’s about the difference between a hope driven world, and fear driven world.

I ask myself every day, “Where am I coming from?” When I find myself enraged over the way somebody treated me, or my wife, or my kids, I ask myself, “Why am I so angry?” I have a simple rule for myself around this question. I’m not allowed to blame my rage on that other person. Inevitably, once I deal with what is really going on for me, the horrific slight becomes nothing more than a misunderstanding, or somebody is having a bad day. Let me give you an example. A couple of weeks ago I dropped my daughter off at camp and was driving (very slowly) through the school on the way out to start my day. I had a hundred things on my mind, including a funeral we were going to that day. Suffice it to say I wasn’t at my best. The drive through the school was actually something I was enjoying, because it’s impossible to hurry. Out of the corner of my eye I sawy a man moving very quickly in my direction with his daughter in tow. I made the assessment it was better to coast past them and let them cross behind. He disagreed and began screaming at me. I’d made a mistake. I rolled down the window on my side of the car as he passed behind my car. I called to him as he continued yelling at me. I said, “I apologize. I didn’t see…” I didn’t finish my sentence. “You didn’t see me? You looked right at me!!!” Again, screaming at me, in front of his now terrified little girl. It was clear to me that there was more going on. I said again, “Hey, hey…. I apologize…” He stopped, said he was sorry and walked on. I was angry for the next hour. “How dare he speak to me like that! Doesn’t he know what my day is like? Doesn’t he know I have to go to a funeral? Doesn’t he…..” Then it occurred to me. I didn’t know what he was going through. Maybe he had a horrible day ahead. Maybe he had a funeral to go to. Maybe I scared him when I didn’t stop. Maybe he isn’t a crazy man. Maybe he’s just a human being who reacted…. Then I felt grateful that I hadn’t engaged in the screaming, and had simply apologized. It meant I didn’t have to find him and apologize. It meant it could all now be left behind me. I chose to have compassion, and come from a place of love. That was my choice.

We get to choose. We get to choose every day. I’ve spent the last several months lamenting about the level of hate that is circulating. People calling each other any number of insults because they are from a different political party, feel differently about guns, dislike your iPhone, or don’t think Tom Brady did anything wrong. Most of these insults take place on social media, or via text, not in person. It seems to be easier to be hurtful, or judgmental, or hateful when you don’t have to look into somebody’s eyes. I’ve grown tired of the bitter tirades against “whiny liberals”, “right wing whack jobs”, etc. The problem is I haven’t been able to figure out what to do about it. Until now. My son was upset yesterday about something that happened with his friend. He was shaking. He was angry. He wanted to hurt somebody who he thought had hurt his friend. There was nothing wrong with his feelings. There was nothing wrong with what he was telling me. He was talking. He wasn’t acting. He had no intention of going after the alleged culprit of the malfeasance. He was talking. He, at the ripe old age of 16, was being an adult. He wasn’t shouting insults at the person. He wasn’t threatening them. He didn’t reduce them to a cultural, political, or gender specific generality. I’m not saying he didn’t use any choice profanity. But he used it talking to me, not assaulting or insulting anybody. When he was done, felt better, and didn’t any longer want to cause any bodily harm, he didn’t have to apologize to anybody. In addition it was clear the person in question was likely having a bad day. He gets it. He made it clear to me. We need to choose compassion and love.

So what am I going to do? I’m going to choose love. On a daily basis I’m going to pause before anger, give the benefit of the doubt, and try to imagine what the other person may be going through. I’m going to choose love, because I can only change me. It isn’t a large leap. I regularly open doors, say “Thank you”, “Please”, and “I appreciate it.” But, it has to include time driving in the car, watching a movie or t.v. show, or just talking to my wife. No more “idiots”, “morons”, or any other horrible epithet. It means pausing before reacting when my teenager makes the inevitable clumsy comment, and remembering, he is, after all, a teenager. I have to walk the walk all the time. Your difference of opinion is neither better nor worse than mine. You didn’t cut me off on purpose. You just made a mistake. So, let me say, “I apologize,” and I will do better. Join me.

#IChooseLove!!