Feeling Political Despair? It Can Still Be A Wonder-full Life
The chapel at St. Placid Priory in Lacey, Washington has four stained glass windows above the sanctuary representing the elements of earth, air, fire and water. In summer, at sunset, something amazing happens. The sun’s rays pour in through the stained glass onto a gray wall below, spreading reflections of colored light. They look like brush strokes moving across a blank canvas. It is like watching an expressionist painting take shape before the eyes.
This past week, I found myself thinking back to the wonder of that experience. I needed something to remind me of beauty and awe after listening to all of the impeachment proceedings.
It often seems as though members of our two political parties are operating in alternate universes in a science fiction film. Facts to one side become falsehoods to the other. What is patently untrue becomes stated as fact, as if somehow lies can miraculously change into truth the more a person repeats them.
People who should behave as adults compete to shout the loudest and appear the most aggrieved. Reminds me of temper tantrums I’ve witnessed in children denied a toy they want at the mall.
One of the lowest points for me came when a member of Congress brought up Hunter Biden’s past drug use, only to be reminded of his own DUI charge a few years ago.
How can one not despair? The best antidote I’ve found doesn’t come from a pharmaceutical. It is to cultivate a sense of wonder.
How can one not despair? The best antidote I’ve found isn’t a pharmaceutical. It is to cultivate a sense of wonder. Thinking back to the changing light on that chapel wall lifted me out of my doldrums. So did the full moon this week, the last one of the decade. It hung at dusk like an enormous amber Christmas ornament I felt I could reach out and cradle.
I emailed a photo to my friends in Italy. They too had been marveling at the fulsome brightness of their bella luna.
At this time of year, it’s possible in early morning to see both sun and moon sharing the sky. It is as if the universe is in balance, even if our political discourse isn’t.
I also thought of how decisions are made in monasteries — by consensus. Everyone in the monastic community receives the same information. All members are given a chance to express their opinions. Each person must be treated with respect. No shouting. No applauding. No reacting angrily. No personal attacks.
The members then gauge the direction in which the majority is moving. Those in the majority are not to lord it over the dissenters. Instead, they are to take into consideration the minority’s views and try to address their concerns. When a decision is finally reached all — and that means all, even those initially opposed — agree to pull in the same direction.
Perhaps our members of Congress need to read a copy of the ancient guidebook for monastic life, “The Rule of St. Benedict.” There is a wonderful line in the “The Rule” that says: “Be the first to show respect to the other, bearing with the greatest patience one another’s weaknesses of body or behavior.”
Hard to do sometimes, as I can readily attest, but a worthy aim nonetheless.
This week, can we make a conscious effort to bear our differences with others with “the greatest of patience?” Can we seek wonder wherever we go? Chances are, if we look for what is beautiful and wondrous, we will find it.
