Heavy heavy sigh.
I know better.
Here's the thing. People are passionate about their politics. And the piece of that puzzle that I find baffling is that one's perspective absolutely determines one's position. It isn't about facts. It's about one's perception of those facts. So if one mentions Obama to a devout Republican, for example, he is a menace to our nation. But the very same Obama with the very same policies is, to a devout Democrat, a great president.
It's all about perspective.
And so, I've kicked myself a good part of this day because I dared to go there.
What was I thinking?
This evening Piper and I took our typical walk down Holcombe Cove Road and, as we always do, we passed this absolutely monstrous dog--a Newfoundland, I believe, except he's white and I'm not sure that breed is white. Anyway, this big guy always paces back and forth behind the white fence and barks as we go by. But here's the thing: there's a huge chunk out of the lower part of the fence as the bottom board is missing. All that he would have to do is simply crawl under the middle board and...freedom. But? This fence has been broken for quite some time now and clearly this guy hasn't realized how close he is to exploring the world beyond.
I think we all have a piece of that Newfoundland. We are corralled inside our own little box and don't have the foresight to see beyond it.
When I was in high school, my English teacher was a guy named Bickell. His full name was Calvin Bickell but we all simply called him Bickell and it fit him perfectly. Bickell had this way about him that made us all stop and listen. He was cynical and clever and cool. Earning Bickell's approval? It was everything.
Anyway, I met Bickell my freshman year of high school and I will forever remember one of his first writing assignments. We read this story about a guy who lived on a ranch and had all of these crazy experiences. So Bickell asked us to rewrite the story from the horse's perspective.
What?
I was baffled, clueless, didn't get it. And so, I took that story home and rewrote it word for word as the author had written it with the exception of when the horse and the main character were in a scene together. And then I awkwardly flipped it around to somehow be about the horse. It took me a forever as the story was several pages in length. But I had absolutely no idea what I was doing and when I handed it in the next morning, I was fairly certain I utterly failed that assignment.
Seeing from a different perspective? It was like speaking a foreign language.
Bickell never said a word to me about that assignment. To my memory he didn't even hand it back. He must have recognized my inability to see beyond my own limited walls and through the eyes of another. But he didn't give up. I sat at Bickell's feet for four years, learning slowly to think beyond my narrow world and recognize that my truth was simply mine, not necessarily anyone else's. And others? Well, they had their own truth too.
Truth is relative.
And so today when I ventured into the land of politics, well...I quickly tried to turn around and tiptoe right back out where I started from.
And tomorrow? Well, tomorrow I'm keeping my mouth shut. Tomorrow I'm talking about the weather and my weekend plans and what I'm having for dinner.
Because my perspective is simply mine...and sometimes one's perspective is better left inside.
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