The Longest Week

This past week has been the longest week of my life. I went to cast my vote at the local fire station. I didn’t have to stand on line. There were seven districts and enough volunteers to accommodate everyone quickly and easily. Small towns have their advantages. Then I went home and waited. I couldn’t work that day. I had shifted all my clients to other days that week.

That morning I had awakened and all day I kept seeing Trump standing with his arms raised and balloons and confetti falling down around him in red, white and blue. No, no…I tried to switch it to Hillary winning, but the vision wouldn’t change. I knew, all day.

And of course, the polls coming in were wrong. Everything went wrong. My reality was wrong. As Shunryu Suzuki, the beloved Zen master of Tassajara in CA said many years ago: Not Always So.

My mind had to shift from hope and enthusiasm for Hillary Clinton, to shock and dismay for Donald Trump. I went to bed early on election night because I couldn’t bear to watch the reality that was unfolding before my eyes. I had nightmares of Donald Trump winning…over and over again.

I awoke to the validation of my intuition. Donald Trump had won the electoral college.
I couldn’t grasp it. I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. I felt unfettered, ungrounded. My whole life has been about the spiritual dimension of life. Was everything I believed about humanity wrong? I believed that we were gradually moving toward a peaceful world in which people actually wanted cooperation and compassion. I had just started a book club based on The Book of Joy by the Dalai Lama and Archbishop Desmond Tutu. The first meeting was deep, rich and profound. Everyone contributed. And now? Where was the other half of American humanity?

I don’t know. I suppose if I look at the statistics, they will tell me. But I don’t want to. I don’t want to know those people. I don’t understand those people. I am afraid of those people. Anyone who could put on the robes of the Ku Klux Klan terrifies me.

Where is home now? Do I live in enemy territory? Only time will tell. I have only my own inner heart, my own inner compassion to hold onto. It is hard. Very hard. But I am grateful that my beloved friends are as shocked as I am, and we can share compassion with each other. We can console each other. We can prepare for the events to come, whatever they are to be. As they sometimes say in publishing, nobody knows anything.

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