I’m at search for peace in these final days before the election. I admit, my mind this week has been overwhelmingly distracted by the looming prospects of Tuesday. This is largely my own fault, as I have allowed myself to spend too much time on Facebook, or listening to political podcasts, or obsessively checking and re-checking the polling averages at the New York Times and FiveThirtyEight and Nate Silver. I’ve been at the point for about ten days or so of just wanting this damn election to get here. I can’t take the tension of not knowing which future to prepare for any longer. I’m probably being overly dramatic about it all.
My first instinct this week was to write about the horrific and disgusting Madison Square Garden rally Donald Trump put on last Sunday. I’m sure by now you’ve seen coverage of it, so I won’t go into details here. I ranted on Facebook a bit about it, and steeped myself in the coverage of it. But, as the week as gone on, I’ve felt like this was not just a turning point for the campaign season, but needed to be a turning point for me as we count the days down. I realized I need to get out of the toxic psychological sludge that is campaign season.
I was really struck by this line from one of Jesse Singal’s recent newsletters: “I don’t want Donald Trump to win, but if he does win, I’m guessing he will not be able to prevent the average American from engaging in the sorts of human activities that give life meaning.” I know there are real dangers from a potential Trump Administration, especially to immigrant communities, LGBTQ+ people, and women seeking adequate medical care. I don’t want to downplay or dismiss any of those concerns. But I also think Jesse is right. Donald Trump wants to reach his grubby fingers into a lot of things; he desperately craves attention and power. But he can’t have our attention if we refuse it to him. He can’t get at the everyday of our lives, the little interactions and meaningful moments we find in tending our own gardens where we are. There is real power in that, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
Last year, in one of my essays from The Politics of Charity, I wrote about this very idea:
“Fun is the alternative to the churn and drama of politics. The powers that be in the world don’t want us unplugged from the mess of politics and power. They don’t want us ignorant of what's happening in the halls of power. Rather than being an alternative to the old saw of bread and circuses, politics has become the circus, and our outrage is the fuel that drives it. We channel that outrage and attention into dollars and clicks and shares, which is the oxygen the system needs to perpetuate itself and maintain control over us. This is why politics has been allowed to seep into every corner of the culture, from movies and books to food and art. Its power over us ensures the domination of the few over the many.
But, when we withdraw our attention and turn our outrage down and roll our eyes at the ridiculousness of the system and those enmeshed in it, we then find a truly dangerous freedom. We begin to live into a different kind of politics, one more concerned with the things that actually make up our lives- family, friends, the land around us, the decisions made in our neighborhood and our schools and our town. This is exactly what tyrants don’t want us to know. They want us fixated on the latest bullshit being spewed by whichever member of Congress most pisses us off. When we refuse - when we remember we are made for the Good, and that Good makes laughter erupt from deep within our soul, and we revel in it with good humor and fun - then, that is life. That fills us up. And we can pour it out on others, in charity and love and good humor. And those in charge, they can’t control or weaponize it, and thus become small and powerless and ridiculous. To reference the world of Harry Potter, the systems of power are just one giant Boggart: terrifying until we remember that power is an illusion, undone by laughter at its pretension.”
So, leading up to the election next week, I am submitting to you a much shorter essay, with a simple charge to you for this weekend: find some peace, in small thing, in joyful things, in the mundane and ordinary activities of your daily life. Revel in the making of a good cup of coffee. Read a book, preferably some fiction. Go for a walk, and leave your phone at home. Avoid speaking or thinking in anger or judgment, just for a couple of days. Spend time with your family, or your closest friends. Laugh, a lot.
I wrote over the last two weeks about the norms that make up democracy, things like peaceful transitions of power and a free press and freedom of expression. But, actions like these small ones above, they are at the heart of our democracy. They are the first acts in saving our democracy, of our living together. Donald Trump may have a lot of things in a few days. But he can’t have that. We won’t let him.