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How Lessons in Humility Helped Me Understand Donald Trump Supporters

Recently a dear friend of mine let me know she had to put down her old dog. I grieved with her and as a token of sympathy, I looked up and sent her the post I did a number of years ago when I had to say goodbye to my dog. The post made me cry; I could remember the event clearly. Just to distract myself, I read some of my other posts, and wondered what on earth had happened to make me stop writing.

I have recently started blogging again at my other site, Raven’s Cruise Log, because David and I are finally seeing the end of our land-based exile. But that’s the first writing I have done in almost four years, and it’s mostly just sharing what we are doing on the boat, mostly to keep me motivated. I know every month I must post progress, so I’m more inclined to slog on and make some.

After several years of working to have a successful business (I tried several), my high point earnings were about $17,000 and David gave me the Look and said, you have to get a real job. So I got one. It required I spend all day on a computer basically doing data entry. My days turned gray with the boring work and I had little enthusiasm for looking at a computer screen when I got home in the evening. We moved from the boat to an RV to have more space and life didn't seem very exotic at all. Time for writing also took a back seat to a Tuesday night Bible study and Thursday night choir practice.

About the same time, I got really, really sick. I knew something was going on because I was just exhausted all the time. I was losing my hair, I caught every cold that wandered by, I had shingles, and I was a total insomniac. I was finally diagnosed as having Hashimoto’s thyroiditis. I am treating it with thyroid meds, but also with a very strict diet (Google “autoimmune protocol” for details – it does work!). I monitor my nutrition, I cook 98% of all my meals. I investigate root causes and side issues (digestion, inflammation, nutrition, stress reduction, etc.) What energy I had was completely absorbed in finding out about and dealing with this disease and in slogging to work every day. That left very little time and no enthusiasm for writing.

The good news is, at this point I am almost symptom free and have no antibodies attacking my thyroid, we have moved back onto the boat, and – Holy Toledo! I am retired! All of those things are very good news!

Although it was quite painful, the whole experience at work was an eye-opener, both in terms of knowing myself better and in terms of understanding the life experience of the vast majority of people who have not had my advantages. I discovered I was being ham-strung by pride on both ends of the spectrum. On the high end, it was “You are bright and experienced and way too good for this job.” On the low end, it was “You are pathetic, this is the only thing you can do to earn a living.” Both ends were equally unlovely.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with my job except that it hurt my feelings. It didn’t feed my vanity in any way. I was never consulted (even about procedures having to do with my own job!), I was never thanked or recognized, I was not rewarded financially, and my input and insight were neither desired nor valued. My business sense was ignored. I was a cog. Pretty deflating, right? 

And yet, I am grateful for this experience for it has been very good for showing me my pride in all its glory and for allowing me to cultivate the virtue of humility. Humility is just the quality of accepting things (and yourself) as you are, neither more nor less. That’s not to say we don’t strive to be our best, but it’s a striving that has to do with quality and satisfaction with one’s performance, not the esteem of others. Good practice for someone who has always been overly motivated by others’ opinions.

Another valuable insight from this experience is seeing how working people (the working class we pretend we don’t have in America) live and think, how they are routinely ignored, devalued, exploited, and shamed. It isn’t pretty. I see this in the remarks made in the media that show that the people making them have no idea that people of value can be poor, uneducated, ignorant and also generous, humorous, wise, and honest. No, not everyone has those virtues, either in the working class or anywhere else. But those virtues are at least as apparent in the men and women who strive to earn a living working with their hands. They seem to have a better grasp of reality. The reality of struggling between customers and suppliers, of juggling government regulations, taxes, lack of health care, and the weather. The weather shuts down lots of our customers (and guts our sales). Heavy rain for a week? No income for the boat painters and maintenance folk and no income for their suppliers.

I hear their worries about charging their usually well-heeled customers full price for supplies. They underbid each other all the time for work, and that cuts them out of a decent income. The next time someone is doing work you cannot do, don’t begrudge them their wage. You can’t fix your own car? Then pay someone to do it, and realize that your hourly wage is probably six to ten times more than the person you have just hired. They are saving you that amount of work and income by doing the work you would otherwise have to do yourself.

I’ve spent the last year stripping and varnishing the teak below decks on our sailboat/home, Raven, and believe me, whatever you are charged for that sort of job, you need to pay and then some. When you don’t work with your hands, you don’t realize the time involved. It takes time to do things properly, and that means the hourly labor cost is going to be higher than you expect. So if you suspect foul play, go and watch the process. Honest folks don’t mind, and you might get an education.

These are the folks who are solidly behind Donald Trump. They are the left behind, the ignored, the forgotten, the dismissed, the demeaned. And they are some kind of angry. They don’t care what Donald has done or will do, as long as the folks who have left them behind, ignored them, forgotten them, dismissed them, and demeaned them are booted out of power. Now. So what if Donald Trump is a moral degenerate? They (politicians) all are. At least he’s different. That’s what I would hear from the front counter when I walked by. And no matter what he does, he’s not One of Them.

It’s not a mindset that is amenable to reason or facts or deeds or analysis, because the root is too deep and too emotional and too long endured.

It's complicated.

It’s easier when things are simple. Black and white. Yes or no. Up or down. Right?

When things are complicated, we have to take into consideration conflicting viewpoints, competing and equally important needs, and years of misinformation, misunderstanding, and mistakes. It feels like untangling a wad of yarn, with knots, frazzled ends, breaks, and endless frustration.

Nobody likes complicated.

Unfortunately, everything, every issue, is complicated. Immigration. Funding for public services. Political objectives. National security. Gun control. Abortion. Racism. Gender equality. Job opportunity. Marriage. Civic engagement. National discourse.

It’s all complicated.

How can we start untangling the threads and move forward? The first things to cultivate are patience and respect. Everything takes time to understand. Everyone needs to weigh in. Everyone needs to listen to all the opinions, even the ones we don’t like. Everyone needs to put themselves in the shoes of their opponents, to look at things from their point of view.

It’s kind of like the art of mediation. The first thing a mediator does is listen – really listen – to opposing sides. The second thing the mediator does is check with those sides to see if he or she listened well, and understands what is being said. The third thing the mediator does is take what he or she heard and present it coherently to the other side. Without emotion. Without arm-waving and shouting and posters. Here is what your opponent thinks. Wants. Fears. Hopes. And then the process reverses itself, and the mediator takes the thoughts, wants, fears, and hopes of the second side back to the first.

Step by step, each side begins to hear the other. Step by step, each side begins to understand the other. Step by step, both sides start to come together over the things they have in common. They agree to disagree on some things. They stop name calling. They stop using the words “they” and “them” and start using the words “we” and “us.”

Let’s learn a lesson from the art of mediation. Let’s start listening to our opponents. In the process let’s teach them how to listen to us.

After all, in our national life, it’s not about “us and them,” regardless of how that tactic has been used to sell newspapers, boost ratings, and prop up careers.  It’s about “we and us.”

Every last one of us.

Choose Life (Deuteronomy 30:19)

I have a number of friends who have no interest in coming to Christ because of their experiences with the church. They confuse what I call churchianity with the living reality of Christ. Most of the church-burned have been hit over the head with a heresy I label “Bully God.” Bully God is the cosmic policeman. He is the author of a very long list of prohibitions. If you don’t do what He says, Bully God will hit you with a huge taser – you’ll be cursed; ultimately you’ll go to hell.

Jesus showed us that the idea of a Bully God was completely off base. He told us that He did nothing outside His Father’s will. What did Jesus do? He loved us. He healed us. He taught us. He showed us the way to act toward one another. He insisted we quit seeking our own way all the time. He comforted us. He saved us from the evil in the world and from the evil in ourselves. Not once did He tase anyone (although he gave the money changers quite a story to take home to their wives). Instead of tasing us, He died for us, taking on cosmic Evil to defeat Death once and for all and to open to us a way Home.

I do not believe our choices are ultimately between right and wrong or even between good and evil. I believe our choices are between Life and Death. God is Life and His way brings Life. When we stray from the path of Life, we end up wandering toward Death. This is not coercion, this is simply cause and effect. If you jump into water, you will get wet. If you walk of a cliff, you will fall (and get hurt, most likely). If you eat too much, you will gain weight. It just is what it is. God does not point His finger at you and say “If you jump into water, I’ll make you wet!” or “If you walk off a cliff, I’ll hurt you!” But often, that is how we interpret His curses. His curses aren’t an action on His part so much as they are a consequence of our choices when we choose badly.

Following His laws ensures that life works for us. Think of God’s laws as signposts, pointing the way. “This works; that doesn’t work.” Disobeying those laws generally brings trouble and strife, sooner or later, either individually, collectively, or both.

Jesus showed us that these laws are not only concrete, they are spiritual. “Don’t murder” becomes “Don’t hold resentment against others.” Murder takes a life, but resentment corrodes a soul. Both actions result in Death: of another, of our contentment, and of our ability to live peaceably with other people. The wages of sin are death – not because God is after you, but because sin always results in Death: death of relationship, death of happiness, death of spirit, death of hope…the list is long.

Jesus said that the only way to Life is through Him. His way is love of God and each other and obedience to God’s laws. It is not an easy way, but it is the way that leads to Life. Don’t get lost; follow the signposts.

Deuteronomy 30:19

Shingles: itching cure!

Bless my friend Giselle!!! She told me the secret to "scratching" itches that you aren't supposed to touch - such as poison ivy, chicken pox, and my current foe, shingles. Take your hair dryer, set it to hot, and blow over the affected area. Waggle the dryer back and forth so you don't burn yourself. Blessed relief! Thank you, Giselle!! The blow dryer method also lessens the pain. I wish I had known this years ago.

Shingles: treatment and resources

It started with a burning sensation on my skin, following by the most dreadful itching. I thought I had been bitten by a mosquito. The bite, in the middle of my back (aren’t they always) didn’t subside. It got itchier and itchier. Friends of ours mentioned that there is a new strain of mosquito on the Gulf Coast, an Asian import that features allergic red whelps as part of the bite. I decided that was the culprit when red whelps emerged.

A day or two later, to my astonishment and horror, the bite had spread! It followed the line of my bra strap, a burning, itching rash. I could feel the little bumps of the bites and was terrified that I had leaned up against something and become host to a zillion baby spiders. Meanwhile, the rash not only itched, it burned like the worst sunburn I’d ever had. Finally, about the 5th day of this experience, I called my dermatologist. It was after hours and I had to leave a message on the dermatology hotline. It will tell you how freaked out I was to know that I didn’t even laugh at the idea of a skin emergency.

She didn’t call back until late in the evening and because my phone had fallen out of my purse onto the floorboard of the car, I didn’t hear the call until mid afternoon the next day. She told me that if the bites were from a brown recluse spider (my worst fear), it wouldn’t be spreading – chunks of my back would be falling out! I was immediately cheerful to have that fear allayed. Then she said, “Sounds like shingles to me.”

Shingles! That’s what old people get! Oh, right, that would be me. It’s hard when your internal age clock stops at 35, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

Bless the internet. David went straight to Google images for a view of shingles and voila! There was my rash, in picture after picture. Some of the pictures looked like advanced cases of purple acne or leprosy. But a lot of them looked like mine. Red rash in a cord of Rorschach blotches, little “bites” or that awful word “pustule” (always makes me think of Prince John in the 1968 version of Lion in Winter).

Once I knew what I had, I went straight to my book, Nutritional Healing by James F. Balch, M.D. and Phyllis A. Balch, C.N.C. It’s my health Bible. I know that regular herpes is aggravated by arginine (an amino acid found in food such as peanuts). Those of us who get cold sores keep lysine (another amino acid that blocks arginine) on hand to suppress the virus that causes cold sores. The cold sore virus is a herpes virus, cousin or the same as the virus that causes genital herpes, chicken pox and (drum roll) shingles!!

Here’s the shingles treatment:

• Take lysine, 1,000 meg a day, for a start. (I am taking 1500 meg.)

• Quit eating any food that has arginine. I discovered that my favorite bedtime snack of almonds and raisins is chock full of arginine – great.

• Take 2,000 meg of vitamin C four times a day.

• Add cayenne pepper, 100 meg of Vitamin B three times a day, 80 meg of zinc a day for a week.

• Fast, to get that arginine out of your system and let your innards rest. Use 1 T grade B maple syrup, the juice of one large or two small lemons, and 1/8 teasp cayenne pepper in a large glass of water and just sip on it all day. it tastes great, like spicy lemonade. At night I eat a peeled fresh pear or peeled fresh apple to give my digestive tract something to do. This is a great fast and you will not be hungry or cranky - just keep sipping.

• Then work to boost your immune system. A lowered immune system (common complaint of those of us who are mature) opens the door to shingles. Nutritional Healing has a whole section on this.

I am putting fresh aloe vera on the rash several times a day. Aloe vera cures all skin problems – I have 35 years of experience with this plant, which is a living miracle. Bottled aloe vera is almost useless, by the way.

Two days later, I am very much better. I have only one area that is still hyper-sensitive. The bites (I refuse to call them pustules) are crusting over as they should. The rash is several shades lighter.

All of which is fairly serious because three days from today I am getting on a plane to New York to attend my dear daughter’s wedding. And I AM going to wear a bra!

As Long As Our Love Shall Last

We attended a lovely wedding not long ago where I heard some guests support the “no-fault, opt-out vow” that has been popular for quite awhile. The vow goes something like this: We’ll stay married “as long as our love shall last” or “as long as we mutually benefit one another” or “as long as we are growing spiritually”. My guess is that what all those phrases usually mean is “as long as it feels good”. Feelings are wonderful arbiters of the head, but in my opinion aren’t reliable enough to base life decisions on.

What about when marriage doesn’t feel good? Does that mean love is gone, spiritual growth has stopped, and we are no longer of mutual benefit? Consider what love is and what spiritual growth is and what mutual benefit is – and who the author of love and spiritual growth and mutual benefit is. I am firmly convinced it isn’t us. I suspect it is the utmost in arrogance and folly to believe we can fully understand the dynamics of love or recognize all aspects of spiritual growth or point out all mutual benefit, much less that we know when they have come, abide with us, and depart.

An analogy: in the winter, the grass appears to be dead. It is brown and dry and does not grow. However, underneath the soil where we cannot perceive it, the root system is alive and growing, using the energy that causes it to grow upward in the summer to push the root system outward in the winter. The growth only becomes apparent when the season turns. All of which is a long-winded way to say that we plant, hoe, water, and prune, but only God gives the growth. If we pull up the crop before harvest to check on it, we kill the plants we’ve worked so hard to establish.

The long-married enjoy seasons of growth and closeness, but they also endure seasons of seeming death: when love seems pallid, when passion and desire cool, when they don’t have much to say to each other and may not even like each other very much. But in those times of seeming death, who is to say that spiritual growth is not occurring? Like the grass, it may be spreading underground. Tolerance, respect, patience, endurance, empathy, compassion, and egoic death may be the fruit of a winter’s growth. Another fruit of binding commitment is trust. Often it is only when trust is long established and secure that healing and growth can take place.

“For better or for worse” accepts all seasons of life. Real love, the love that creates and heals, is the love that makes it safe to have bad days, bad weeks, bad decades. It creates a spiritual incubator in which eternal growth is nurtured. Sometimes love feels good. Sometimes it doesn’t. The way we feel doesn’t alter its essence, because love isn’t just a feeling. It’s also a decision and an attitude of trust and a very long series of actions. It’s the way we love our spouse back from their mistakes and the way they love us back from our own. It’s the way we love each other through mental and physical illness, financial disaster, and tragedy. Thankfully, it’s also the way we share joy.

It’s a wonderful feeling indeed to trust your partner’s decision to love you regardless of how they (or you) are feeling. If you let Him, God will carry you through the winters of your life together, enabling you to be faithful and true to your beloved while your love, spiritual connection, and mutual benefit continue to grow. Even when you can’t see or feel the growth.