The fruits of your labors may be reaped two generations from now. Trust, even when you don’t see the results. — Henri Nouwen
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The Elephant in My Room
Growing up, we didn’t talk about politics. It was considered impolite and inappropriate. Also, no one in my family was politically involved except if a friend ran for office — I have a vague recollection of holding a “Bill Poe for Mayor” sign when I was 14 on the side of the road in Tampa (I’m seriously aging myself) but that’s about the extent of it.
Breaking Tradition
I was raised Republican, but many years ago as I determined what was important to me, I broke from my tribe, registered independent, and now regularly vote left of center (read how well that went over here). After an accidental political discussion, a family member once accused me of turning into a liberal feminist. I replied, “I know you think those are insults, but actually, I’m quite flattered.”
Despite my left leanings, I pride myself on having an extremely diverse circle of friends gathered over many years and many different locales — liberal Christians, fiscal conservatives, struggling artists, members of the one percent, a variety of races and religions — and because of that I’ve spent most of my life telling my Republican friends that not all Democrats are demonic, and telling my Democrat friends that not all Republicans are evil. Sadly, I’m not so sure my opinion makes a difference.
The Times They are a Changin’
So between my upbringing of not talking about politics and my futile attempts to make sure everyone gets along, I rarely express my own political views, and certainly not on social media. But as with so many Americans, this year changes everything.
As I mentioned in an earlier blog, over the course of a decade I was both sexually harassed and groped by a college professor, two bosses, and a respected leader of the community — all men in authority and supposed role models. Like most women during that time, I didn’t understand how abusive these acts were, and put my feelings of confusion and shame in a box. The revelations of the past several weeks released those feelings again and ignited a deep anger at their sense of entitlement.
There are women in this world who have it much worse than I did and I do — enduring unspeakable sexual assaults, no access to education, no ability to travel without a man’s permission, and no opportunity to make their own choices without fear of humiliation and in some cases death (e.g., honor killings). As Michelle Obama so eloquently stated, the United States is on the forefront of advocating for women’s rights worldwide. We will completely lose our moral authority with a president who treats women with complete disrespect and disregard. The ripple effects will be felt far and wide. For that reason — and for many more that override the flaws that she has — I’m voting for Hillary Clinton.
I’m With Her
As a woman, I’m with her.
As a Christian, I’m with her.
And as an American who is dedicated to the melting pot that is this country, I’m with her.
No doubt I may lose some blog followers, which will make me sad. I hope you’ll stick around for the majority of my blogs that don’t venture into politics. But I’ve learned you can’t win — I’ve lost followers because I’ve mentioned religion, and I’ve lost followers because I wasn’t religious enough. I’m just going to write what I write.
To my conservative Christian friends, please read this article about Christian women speaking out about Donald Trump, including prominent evangelicals.
To my liberal friends who voted for Bernie and who are considering not voting or casting a protest vote, please watch this:
Regardless of who you support, please vote. Courageous women and men fought long and hard (literally) so we can exercise this right.
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Quote of the week for October 21
Nobody will ever deprive the American people of the right to vote except the American people themselves and the only way they could do this is by not voting. — Franklin Delano Roosevelt
Learning How to Be Married in 18 Easy (And Sometimes Hard) Years
On September 4, my husband, Eric Masterson, and I celebrated our 18-year wedding anniversary. Two days later, he headed out on a six-month bike trek to follow the migratory path of the broad winged hawk from New Hampshire to South America, a journey that will cross 5 time zones, 40 degrees of latitude, and 5,000 miles — research for his next book. For some reason, I’m oddly calm about the whole thing.
Letting Go of the Known
Eric’s been thinking about this trip for more than four years. During that time, I tried to not-so-subtly steer him towards book projects that kept him closer to home and closer to me, in the delusion that proximity to me would keep him safe (did I mention I’m all powerful?) and the misconception that living together at all times was what married people did. We were already challenging that last idea — I’d begun spending several months away from home in Nashville working on my own creative endeavors and our marriage was surviving just fine, if not flourishing in a new way. Eric’s proposed trip, however, had a large element of physical risk. I am not good with physical risk. I also have some control issues.
One day, Eric looked at me and said, “Tricia, I know you worry about me being dead on the side of road in Guatemala, but if I don’t do this, it’s death by a thousand cuts.”
And that logic, if that’s what it is, I completely understood. I wrote and performed an 80-minute one-woman show, How to Draw a Nekkid Man, based on that very premise. In fact, the exact line in my show is, “I knew if I did this consulting work for much longer I was going to die. Slowly, but I was going to die.” Right after that line (and in real life), I left everything I knew and moved to Ireland to become an artist. From that perspective, a 5,000-mile solo bike trek to South America made perfect sense to me.
Like-Minded Souls
A dear friend once summed up both of us: “Neither one of you breeds well in captivity.” He was right. So after 18 years of marriage, we are finally figuring out that the best thing we can do for ourselves and our marriage is to give each other the freedom and space to grow, whatever that may look like. For now, while Eric’s cycling to South America, I’ll be back in Nashville working on my own creative projects. I’ll also be serving as mission control for Eric’s journey and peddling with him in spirit (goodness knows I don’t want to actually peddle. I’m more of a support vehicle kind of girl). As our friend Jack said to me, “Eric may be riding the bike, but you’re on the phantom tandem seat.”
Guardians of Our Solitude
Just last week, a good friend sent me some writing about marriage by the poet Rilke — something to strive for indeed.
The point of marriage is not to create a quick commonality by tearing down all boundaries; on the contrary, a good marriage is one in which each partner appoints the other to be the guardian of his solitude, and thus they show each other the greatest possible trust. A merging of two people is an impossibility, and where it seems to exist, it is a hemming-in, a mutual consent that robs one party or both parties of their fullest freedom and development. But once the realization is accepted that even between the closest people infinite distances exist, a marvelous living side-by-side can grow up for them, if they succeed in loving the expanse between them, which gives them the possibility of always seeing each other as a whole and before an immense sky.
Let’s Stay in Touch
- Share this blog with your friends — just use the icons below.
- Leave a comment. Feedback is great.
- Want to receive these blogs in your email inbox? Please register at the top right of this page. While you’re there, you can like my artist’s Facebook page and follow me on Twitter.
- Spread the word — your voice is invaluable in bringing my work to new audiences.
- Thanks for your support!
Quote of the Week — September 22
Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving. — Albert Einstein