I have wondered over the past few weeks about the potential process of healing from the crisis of this presidential administration.* Among the systems that we know are in need of repair is our capacity and skill in relating to those with whom we disagree, sometimes vehemently. Although the current state of interpersonal conflict around different ideology seems particularly heightened, I’m a student of British literature with a particular interest in the period of time during and immediately following the French Revolution, so I’m heartened (I’m not sure this is the correct word, but I’m at least not completely despondent with respect to our current communication crisis) that we have experience working through seemingly unworkable conflicts. Are we as a species really so divided? And if we are, are we so entrenched in whatever patterns of thought that have pulled us in that we are unable to acknowledge the humanity and dignity of those who disagree with us on issues of consequence?
Although politically and personally I would call myself a radical cooperative futurist: I believe another world is possible, one where we align our actions with values and truly move toward a “more perfect union” that respects the miracle of our shared existence and honors the gift we have received by being born on this planet, I am wired toward connection and am more interested in a conversation that nurtures community through mutual care and accountability (please read Turn This World Inside Out, for a beautiful description and praxis around the permutations of this particularly with respect to harm and recovery from patriarchy and white supremacy). To that end, I’m not looking to alienate anyone with my vision, the invitation is open. However, I’ve been wondering about my own practices around boundary-setting (and holding) with those who are engaged in a different kind of praxis, and I’ve heard from more than a few friends about recent requests from those with differing opinions to “just unfollow” them. In some sense, this opportunity could only present itself during a global pandemic when many of us are remaining at home in an effort to reduce the harm of the coronavirus, since many of these conversations are happening in writing on platforms that allow for both the amplification and muting of voices.
Last weekend I had an unexpected opportunity to sit down in person with someone whose worldview is very different from my own. I learned so much about how differently we see the Covid pandemic, civic engagement and liberatory movement space. In this space of thoughtful, open discourse, I learned a ton about how important the framing of these conversations is, how starved a lot of people were for community even before the pandemic and how it is totally possible to have whole-hearted conversations with people you completely disagree with in ways that honor everyone’s dignity and move toward understanding and unity. I know another world is possible.
One of the things I learned is that people are still orienting their sense of responsibility or concern about the virus to themselves: this sounds like “I’m not worried about getting sick; I’m strong, I’ll be fine; If it’s my time, it’s my time.” Maybe all of these statements are true; however, it’s not all about one person. While I am concerned about getting Covid (not that it’s anyone’s beeswax, but I have respiratory and circulatory stuff that puts me into the high-risk categories), I am more concerned about getting it and giving it to someone else. I am lucky to have good insurance and care systems in place in case something happens to me, but that isn’t true for everyone—especially Black, Indigenous, People of Color— and I am committed to doing whatever I can (however small or big, easy or hard as hell) to save whatever hardship, heartbreak or even death is possible through my personal behavior. It’s a shift: thinking about the well-being of others as being just as important as your own, but when we do that, we start to really feel held by our fellow beings. It’s kind of amazing. Every day, I thank all the people who are doing whatever they can to keep me safe, and it’s a pretty elaborate refuge tree of support. That’s also why I get vaccinated, believe it or not. I can get vaccinated (meaning I’m not allergic or immune compromised in ways that eliminate that possibility), so I kind of see it as my obligation to those folks who can’t get immunizations. This is what public health is all about: the kinds of measures the vast majority can take that help us ALL. Even though my personal wellness practices include tongue scraping, herbal tinctures, homemade infusions and body oiling, part of my community practice includes doing things that are for the benefit of others, including being intentional about my time in public, wearing a mask, social distancing and making sure my pertussis vaccination is up-to-date.
I don’t think I’m any better or any worse than any one else, and that has been key to landing in this practice of mutual care. I know I need other people just as much as they need me. This is not a realization that can be forced, it can only be allowed.
At present, however, slowness, consideration and responses that facilitate relationship are challenged by many things, not the least of which is the global pandemic that has everyone I know feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. Many folks are clinging to whatever identity-stories provide the easiest sources of blame with such ferocity there’s hardly any room for daylight. It is possible, though. I know it. I’ve been there. Even if no one’s mind is changed, there is hope in holding space for honest discourse and whole-hearted collaboration. The key is in celebrating the rhythm of gathering, committing to the process and each other, revealing our shared needs and agreeing on language landmarks.
Before we can begin that relationship, though, we need our own commitment and practice around listening.
A Practice
We lose nothing by listening, really listening to another person. Not by pretending to listen while we dig in to our next argument or our characterization of their words in terms that are simplest to carve up with a knife, but by intentionally preparing to receive their perspective, holding space for the words to land and proceeding with care.
To begin this work, choose an easy relationship and an easy conversation to consciously practice listening without needing to respond, win or convince. Just witness the person sharing with you.** I have found that when I take the pressure off myself of needing to convince, fix or solve something, I can more clearly hear what the other person is saying.
Final Thoughts
I thought everyone knew this, but….. This isn’t how I planned to spend 2020 either. Truly. However, here we are, so I am taking the opportunity to practice living all of my values, adapting in ways I never dreamed of when preparing for the future and doing all I can to leave this miracle of a planet in better shape than the trajectory we inherited. It has been an exhausting year, to be sure, but when we’re through it, I will know I truly took my heart’s path, even if it was momentarily a steeper climb. I love you all and am rooting for you every day.
Take good care of yourselves & each other. As Octavia E. Butler said, “So be it. See to it.”
Om Tat Sat!
* I am not suggesting that injustice began with the current occupant of the White House. This conditions that lead to this administration also allowed for new awareness of deeply harmful patterns of oppression that have existed since this land was colonized.
** If you are interested in digging deeper to these practices, I highly recommend meenadchi’s book, De-Colonizing Nonviolent Communication. We also have an array of active listening practices in the Wildcat Yoga Club.
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