Certainty
I realize now that, for me, the stress of the past year has been not so much the pandemic and lockdown, as it has been about the political dysfunction, and the state of our country and our planet. The glaring lack of compassion has hurt my heart.
I hear the calls for more civil discourse and being open to hearing different points of view. And, intellectually, that does make sense. The only problem is that my positions are the “right” positions, my take on the injustices and their possible solutions is the “right” take, and my beliefs are the “true” ones. As much as I value openness and flexibility, my problem is the same as most everyone else’s, that is “certainty.”
Certainty has always been the most frightening thing to me - the certainty of true believers, whether the fascists, the christian nationalists, or the people on NextDoor who know exactly what is right and what is wrong with how people walk their dogs or drive around the neighborhood.
The thing is, certainty is not an actual thing - it is a feeling, an emotion. It is one of the most seductive emotions we humans can experience. The feeling of absolutely knowing that we are right, that we know the truth, is simply irresistible. It allows us to feel safe and secure. To know what to do and how to do it.
So those who put greed above compassion, probably are certain that they are doing the right thing for their family. Those who use hypocrisy to put power and reelection ahead of decent human values, know for sure they are doing the right thing for our country. Just like I am positive that my values are the right ones.
So how do we move past this logjam of opposing certainties when they are exquisitely and equally compelling? Especially when I deeply believe one side is right and the rest are wrong.