“No Way of Dividing What’s Yours & Mine When Everything is Shining” & My Political Beliefs: Everyday Magic, Day 619

Leaving the parking lot from walking a friend to her car yesterday, I found red rose petals leading to the sidewalk. I followed. The rose petals got thicker and soon led me to cement stairs that rose to a porch. Here I found this sign: “No way of dividing what’s yours and mine when everything is shining.”

Juxtaposed with the news reports in my head of the Republican National Convention, recent polling on the election, the impossibility of getting even the smallest piece of good legislation through in Congress (not to mention my worries and woes about the divisions in Kansas lately), this sign startled me.

Last night, while trying to sleep, I thought about how how I tend to categorize all the news flashes that come my way (from radio, friends, observations) into what I agree with, what I don’t agree with, and consequently, who I agree or don’t agree with, and how much I want the ones I agree with to prevail. While I have no intention of abandoning my beliefs and outrage, I’m trying to remember, that even in such polarized moments (in my mind and in this world), when the light touches down, divisions dissolve.

In other words, I may feel a little sick to my stomach when I hear on the radio about the new film asserting Obama has a secret plan to take this country down (because of how warped I believe that film is), or I may be positive that the libertarians in this country are very wrong about their platform, but there’s another angle to consider. I think of joking around with Evangelical ministers at a local coffee shop, or trying to find some common ground with a New Hampshire libertarian in a fierce rain storm while driving up and down mountains. In all cases, we disagreed on all we discussed about the social contract, religion’s role, taxes and Obama, and we would disagree on more with more time to talk.

Yet there is something else too: the simple light of being alive, and how, in that light, we aren’t just made from the same ingredients, but one. At the same time, I can’t fathom being one with Rush Limbaugh or Adolf Hitler or anyone I deem truly evil. But maybe holding opposing beliefs, even within one person’s mind, is human; seeing how it all makes sense may be beyond human. In any case, I will keep my eyes open for when everything shines while holding fast to what I believe I must say or do for a better world.

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