Sleeping Well Finally
copyright, SGHolland November 8, 2020
It’s as if I have been holding my breath since 2016.
We Americans may have to thank our outgoing president for letting us sleep well last night. If he had not been daunting, the vote might have been different!
Even though thousands of people, some of whom are dear to me, were disappointed with the results of the election, there were also people calling me yesterday with breaking voices, yelling and whooping that “we won!”. The closest I can remember to this kind of excitement among people in my world is when we burst into euphoric excitement and joy at V-J Day. That was in 1945. I got in trouble that day because I figured my sterling silver baby cup would make a great noise in our parade up and down Brookside Road if I tied a string to the handle and dragged it after me making cool noises. I was seven years old. (I was forgiven.The tarnished little cup still bears the scars.)
Nothing could compare to that kind of ecstatic relief until yesterday.
My internet life is lively with fellow humans who have sweated the election season out with so much sadness, depression, shock, heartbreaking embarrassment, and dread, as I have been doing. Friends, family, relatives, all have shared the chilly sense of claustrophobia with each other — wishing that we could somehow get back to the feeling of being proud of our country, and at least fit for our future here in America; but slightly doubting whether that ray of hope on the horizon was possible.
At breakfast, (typically a lovely more than hour-long meal that inevitably leads to a deep conversation about the whys and wherefores of our 80-some years of life) my partner and I talked about the possibility that we had been, along with all of America, so scared of “more of the same” for “four more years” that we had about given up on the safety of democracy — and now were experiencing a distinct victimhood!
And that fear had legs!
What we postulated was that the people of America were so frightened that we were ready to do ANYTHING to save our nation’s soul.
And so we American citizens got out the vote. We were of every sort and kind a democracy can contain: young, old, sick, angry, mean, prayerful, wounded, homeless, privileged, insulted, and some of us barely holding on to hope about this country’s status, mental stability, and courage.
To save our souls, we masked up against the coronavirus and stood obediently far from each other in lines to cast our votes…trying hard to really imagine that our little ballot could maybe be the one that could tip the scales.
The scales were weighted down and knocked awry with political chants of power and threats of revenge, on both sides. It was war. Chants of hope became weaker as polls told us varying stories.
But yesterday as the two of us ventured out in the car to the still wild and stubborn steppes of NE New Mexico, in awe of the sheer depth of the canyons and the sheer weight of stacked boulders…boulders stubbornly unmoved from their high walls for eons, threatening to roll down and destroy the road we rode on. But still there,waiting — motionless and immovable except by some act of Nature — and who could know when Nature would trigger avalanche or earthquake?
As we drove the narrow and precipitous roadway some 7000 +feet above sea level, the cellphone rang.. a call from a woman who lives about a half mile from us in the high desert, with her voice loud and overcome with excitement and joy.
“We won! I can’t believe it! Georgia won!” (her home state is Georgia.) “They voted and broke the stalemate! We won! We won!” This excited voice was of a mature woman 50-some years old. She was a child again! She might just as well have been banging her silver cup on the pavement in celebration!
This phone call was the first of many over the day on Saturday, November 6th, 2020.
This morning at breakfast, we asked ourselves ..could the stress America has been suffering finally become so unsufferable to us humans that we did a “Hail Mary”? Even those of us who were not in the habit of praying to a Higher Power? Were we beaten down enough to call out to the only power we still might trust in? Desperate cries for help?
“If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land., …2 Chronicles 7:14 KJV
If I can imagine a body of humans stranded at sea on a small raft with the burning image of the non-survivors, one by one, falling overboard dead, can I imagine the last-ditch keening aboard that tossing little wood craft? Would not the parched and starving mouths try to cry out to God for deliverance? Could America be brought back into a nation of dignity, integrity, trustworthiness?
Calling out is what voting was, this time. Calling out for help.
We Americans mailed, and posted, and stood in line with our consciences (all of us of all political persuasions), and we made a purposeful personal effort to be heard. We hoped against hope that democracy would somehow still work, even though we had been watching it dying before our eyes.
And our calls were heard! The precipice had to be so clear to us — -all of us — -that we acted in a last act of faith. A last “help” in a system we were not sure would work any more. And our voices were heard! The threat pushed us into humbly asking for help.
Today we are relaxed, and full of wonder. We feel OK today. Yesterday we began to feel OK for the first time in a long time. The America we counted on was still there.
And our land CAN be healed if we will humble ourselves and cry out for help.
