Tiffany’s Take: What Now?

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Photo by Leo Hidalgo via Flickr Creative Commons.

By Tiffany A. Potter

Today is deadline day and also coming off of this weekend’s events in Charlottesville. I’ve been staring at this computer screen for the better part of two hours. Blank almost in its entirety as the cursor relentlessly blinks at me as if it’s just waiting to see what I come up with to say. The problem is, though, I don’t feel like I have anything creatively in me to give. I feel as though I have a million things to say and not one fitting word to begin to tell the story of my emotional state at this moment, to say it.

I have purposely, intentionally, chosen to write about anything but the current state of our political reality in recent months. I know that we’re all burnt out on the “breaking news” stories and tweets of the hour that give us one more reason to be outraged, enraged and terrified all at the same time. But the truth is, we’re nine months into this nightmare and given the events of this last weekend’s neo-Nazi/KKK rally and the horrific backlash from the ignorant, egocentric Man-Child in Chief who refuses to take a stand against such hate, I personally can’t think of anything but that I’m stuck somewhere between trying desperately to carry on with life and feeling an obligation to put voice to what the majority of us have been feeling since Inauguration Day.

I am desperate to find any positive angle that I can, but I’m coming up blank.

I want nothing more than to be a voice of love and light, positivity and hopefulness, but the truth is, my heart is broken and I can only come up with questions. How did we get here (a recurring question that I’ve asked in this space since November)?! How do we (or can we) fix this? What are we teaching our children? Where do we go from here? How do we get to peace (if you come up with an answer, I would love to hear it)? And is the answer to let them implode as a party so that we, the level-headed and respectful majority, can proceed as a nation with compassion, tolerance and inclusion? And if that is, in fact, the answer, how do we tolerate this assault on our values and our morals until it changes?

The lunacy of this moment in time overwhelms the hell out of me. The truth is, I don’t recognize my country—our country— anymore. I used to revere our government, our systems and practices, and respect the office of the presidency regardless of who was at the helm. Did I think it was perfect? Absolutely not. There’s always room to improve a system that can often struggle to keep up with the changing times. But it was ours as a whole. For better or worse. Now, I talk about what was—prior to January—in the past tense. The magic of who we were, of what people around the world would sacrifice their lives to be a part of, doesn’t exist anymore. Nor am I sure that it ever will again.

So, my loves, I’m sorry that I can’t show up for you this month. I’m sorry that I can’t bring myself to give you words of encouragement or positive thoughts to help us all who feel we’re losing our sanity. I just don’t have it in me today. I’m grieving and it seems to be using up all my energy to manage my own heart heavy with sadness and nagging defeatist feelings.

But perhaps I can leave you with this one take away: We who are appalled at where we are as a collective are the most of us, and we belong to each other. Democrat/Republican/Independent, we care about the well-being of each other so much that we must stay focused on the fact that we’re all in this together. There will always be more love than hate. There will always be more compassion and concern than there will ever be indifference to the suffering of others. And today, knowing that just has to be enough.

*****

Tiffany is a disability consultant, entrepreneur, inspirational speaker and change agent. Find her at www.TiffanysTake.com Instagram: Tiffanys_Take.columnist or Twitter: T_Tcolumnist.