These are the times that try a gay writer’s soul.
The last eight years have been an unending roller coaster of horrible things – scandals, setbacks, vitriol and verbal assaults, norms smashed to bits, wars, and to top it all off, a once-in-a-century pandemic that changed everything.
Despite all that, I was caught off guard by the results of the US election last month. No, if I’m honest, it was far worse than that. It was like a freight train full of bowling balls and anvils had crashed into me and smashed me against a brick wall.
Before all of this, I was an optimistic person. Sure, I had occasional bouts of pessimism, but I always bounced back. I had an undying faith in the inherent goodness of humanity.
These last eight years have stolen that from me, instilling in me an acidic bitterness that eats at me every day.
I was thinking about this yesterday, and it struck me that those people who are most responsible for this change have never even met me. They had no direct ability to change my heart. Only I could do that.
So what if I could change it back?
What if being angry and bitter is a choice I’m making, one that has no effect on the people I’m angry and bitter about, but a huge impact on me and those around me?
I decided to make a list of some of the people I know who are inherently good, and the good things they do:
- My dear friend of sixteen years, Carolyn, who is Catholic in the best possible way, meaning she follows her heart and loves everyone around her. She regularly looks in on me, sings in the choir at her church, and goes out of her way to help her friends when they are in need.
- My friend Luis at the LGBT Center who has devoted his life to fundraising for queer causes, and even when he is very busy, goes out of his way to help me with my job search.
- My mom, who out of the blue offers us assistance, even though she’s been going through it in so many ways for the last few months.
- My Mom’s neighbor Pat, who didn’t hesitate to offer to pick her up when she got stranded and needed a ride.
- My Aunt Lerri, who moved here to be closer to us, and who offers her sage advice and a shoulder to cry on whenever we need it.
- My closest friends on Facebook who are always up for a chat and an offer of encouragement (or sympathy).
- And of course, my husband Mark, who is one of the kindest souls I have ever met, and who pours himself out, often to his own detriment, to keep me afloat.
There are countless little examples all around me, if I just watch for them:
- The unknown person who signals me to merge in front of them, waiting patiently while I pull out of the parking lot.
- The grocery store clerk, who recognizes me and flashes me a bright smile when I’m checking out.
- The barista, who knows what my favorite drink is, and makes it minus the whipped cream, without me even asking.
- And the friends in my Italian Group who spend a couple hours with me and Mark every Tuesday, earnestly working to learn this lovely language, closing the world outside for a little while.
Out in the world, I see it too:
- A President who stepped down graciously when it became apparent he couldn’t win.
- Scientists discovering new ways to identify breast cancer early.
- A political blogger who, once a week, finds the funny in all the awful and sends it to me to make me laugh.
We live in a dark and difficult time, and the examples of terrible people doing awful things are legion. But that’s only part of the story. There are so many people doing good work, being kind, and helping others, but so often they get lost in the flurry of horrific news.
So I need to remember to take a deep breath. To tune out the news for a bit. And to seek out those do gooders, to allow them to be a balm for my soul.
Maybe it’s too much of a stretch to think I will once again believe that humans are inherently good. But at least I can try to remember that there are still a lot of good humans out there.
And that’s a great first step toward the restoration of my soul.