Sunday, November 6, 2016

The Only Thing We Have to Fear


Ben:


A few posts ago I did a Star Wars themed satirical piece dealing with politics and religion. Some people held their breath, hoping they wouldn’t be plunged headlong into another political discussion which might cause them emotional distress. Only after seeing it was just in good fun did they let out a sigh of relief and enjoy the post.

That got me to thinking. Why all the fear? Why all the discomfort when it comes to things political?

I think our political fear is primarily about our collective anxieties relating to all the variables in life which can negatively impact us. Poverty, sickness, harm by accident or by the hands of someone else, loss of a means to support ourselves, people we view as “bad guys” winning while the people we view as “good guys” losing, all are examples of things that are out of our control that will hurt us in some fashion. Our instinct is to look to things bigger than us to prevent bad things from happening, and the government is often that “bigger thing” we look to for protection.

I do believe governments coupled with private citizens can help prevent some of the bad things. We have numerous documents showing the rights we’re entitled to. To help deal with people who violate those rights, we have a police department, a legal system, and places to confine those who break the law. If we suffer injury or illness, we have teams of mobile emergency responders at the ready to whisk us away to places which can restore us to health. We also have various avenues to pursue help when we’re not in positions to support ourselves.

Even so, even the biggest government and biggest collection of well-meaning citizens can’t prevent all the bad things from happening to us. People still get hurt by accidents or by other people; houses burn down; flood waters rise; tornadoes and earthquakes ravage neighborhoods; people get sick, lose jobs, and suffer the loss of quality of life; people die untimely deaths. Life is uncertain and that uncertainty can be terrifying.

Like children hiding under blankets, we avoid the truth of this uncertain world by clinging to the unrealistic hope that there is a force in our life that will stop all the bad things from happening. We place our hope in politicians who promise they can remake the world in such a way that we can rest easy in it. That we can go to bed at night and when we awaken the next day nothing will have changed. Our jobs will be there, our houses will be there, and we’ll be happy and safe. But our guy says the rival politicians won’t help us, won’t take care of us, won’t see to it that we wake up the next morning happy and safe. Then we fear that our guy won’t make it in and grow angry towards people who like and support the other guy.

This translates into anger at the other camp. Whether they are ignorant, naïve, or intentionally trying to hurt you by not voting in your security blanket, they are now your enemy. The other side feels the same way about you and the two sides clash.

I think in order to keep our sanity this election cycle, we need to understand that no matter who is in office, we are still vulnerable to the many things in life that can harm us. We need to make peace with the fact that life is indeed a fragile, transient thing and we should use these precious few moments we are gifted with to love those around us and do the best with the resources we have. Because neither our guy or their guy can determine how you think, how you believe, and ultimately how you act in a given moment. All that is up to you. And 200 years of our country’s history has proven that you can prosper no matter what idiot is in office.


Esther:


Until recently, most of my life choices were fear-motivated. I don’t recommend living like this. You’ll do some really dumb things.

When I was 18 I married a nice man because I was afraid he would be the only man to ever want to marry me. I didn’t go to college because I was afraid. I took easy, low-paying jobs because I was afraid I couldn’t handle more responsibility. I stayed in friendships that suffocated me and relationships that required me to cut off parts of myself and pack them away, because I feared conflict more than I feared giving up the right to be a person. I even stayed in a job my doctor warned was ruining my health because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to find a different one.

I share these bad choices with you so you’ll see I empathize if your fear has bullied you into similar bad choices.

More than other election years in recent history, this one has touched a deep nerve in an old fear of mine, and I’ve spoken to several people with abuse histories who mention the same feeling. For those of us with PTSD, sometimes a current, relatively safe situation feels like an old situation that was actually dangerous, that actually harmed us. Some injuries never heal all the way and at times something innocuous will brush them. The resulting pain startles us and the impulse is to flee, or to fight, or to freeze. To make the pain stop.

Of course, pain is only a symptom. The knee-jerk response of getting the pain to stop isn’t a good long-term strategy. The more I tried to ward off pain, the more my fear of pain grew until it was bigger than pain. I started confusing the two feelings, pain and fear.

Finally, years of fear-based choices caught up with me, the pain of those choices eclipsed my fear, and I left an actually dangerous situation my own fear had led me into. Pain, which I’d tried so hard to avoid, saved me.

When pain comes too early and too big in life, I think we can spend the rest of our lives thinking the point is to control our environment so that whatever our Ground Zero was never happens again. But it’s impossible to control everything.

I think the real point is to recognize fear as the enemy. To see pain as a teacher, not a torturer. And to learn how to breathe through the pain when it comes again.