This I Believe
Hmm, so what is going on in my life?
Well, I'm trying to consolidate two hard drives onto a third, as Best Buy was having a really excellent sale on netbooks and both my old machines were dying quiet deaths. I need to find somewhere I can donate them when I'm done cleaning them up. The netbook is delightful and I have named her Adiaphora, and I will be installing Ubuntu eventually but probably not for a couple months, which sucks, but, well, there are difficulties which I won't go into here.
I heard a tornado siren for the first time in, what, a year maybe, yesterday. Giant thunderstorm, possible hail, and rotation in the clouds nearby, so I spent some quality time in the basement.
Now that I have regular internet again, I've found some podcasts I liked when I was in Wisconsin and had free time, mostly from NPR. My favorite is Michael Feldman's show, but I also like "This I Believe" which I have recently written an essay for, and thought I should put it here.
This I Believe:
I believe in finding truth in that which I can't bring myself to agree with. I believe that I reach my highest potential when I can see my own qualities, both those I cherish and despise, in the people who oppose me on the issues that are closest to my heart. That is when I learn how to approach them, not as a platform, argument, or rival, but as a fellow human being. Then, and only then, can we begin to approach honest communication and true relationship.
I have found a lot of truth in this world, largely through disagreeing with many, many people. So far I've found that the most valuable truths cannot be summed up on a bumper sticker, but they can be summed up in a look. Somehow, my favorite truths seem to be shared that way with people I love over a meal, while the most lasting are shared while warding off panic in times of crisis.
I attended a Westboro Baptist Church counter-rally some years back, and there were a couple of young girls, maybe nine years old, in the small group at the other end of the sidewalk. They screamed hateful slogans with their parents, and when the two crowds started to mix, they shrank away slightly. My friends and I were careful not to approach them, but we did try to place ourselves between them and the worst of the screaming. The girls wore clean clothes and appeared well-fed, and were not at all afraid of their parents.
Two years later, I spent a summer as a hospital chaplain, and met obviously neglected children who acted like frightened mice when their parents were cranky. I'll never know whether my suspicions were right. And now I wonder about what we find valuable enough to teach, because we always learn fear faster than grace, whether it's parenting or politics.
I wish I could believe that everyone's had a childhood that prepared them for trust and relationship and being the first to offer the olive branch. But I know better. Which is why I keep reaching for the truth that builds bridges of honesty and sheepish, not-quite begrudging good will. I believe it's the only way to the truth.
Well, I'm trying to consolidate two hard drives onto a third, as Best Buy was having a really excellent sale on netbooks and both my old machines were dying quiet deaths. I need to find somewhere I can donate them when I'm done cleaning them up. The netbook is delightful and I have named her Adiaphora, and I will be installing Ubuntu eventually but probably not for a couple months, which sucks, but, well, there are difficulties which I won't go into here.
I heard a tornado siren for the first time in, what, a year maybe, yesterday. Giant thunderstorm, possible hail, and rotation in the clouds nearby, so I spent some quality time in the basement.
Now that I have regular internet again, I've found some podcasts I liked when I was in Wisconsin and had free time, mostly from NPR. My favorite is Michael Feldman's show, but I also like "This I Believe" which I have recently written an essay for, and thought I should put it here.
This I Believe:
I believe in finding truth in that which I can't bring myself to agree with. I believe that I reach my highest potential when I can see my own qualities, both those I cherish and despise, in the people who oppose me on the issues that are closest to my heart. That is when I learn how to approach them, not as a platform, argument, or rival, but as a fellow human being. Then, and only then, can we begin to approach honest communication and true relationship.
I have found a lot of truth in this world, largely through disagreeing with many, many people. So far I've found that the most valuable truths cannot be summed up on a bumper sticker, but they can be summed up in a look. Somehow, my favorite truths seem to be shared that way with people I love over a meal, while the most lasting are shared while warding off panic in times of crisis.
I attended a Westboro Baptist Church counter-rally some years back, and there were a couple of young girls, maybe nine years old, in the small group at the other end of the sidewalk. They screamed hateful slogans with their parents, and when the two crowds started to mix, they shrank away slightly. My friends and I were careful not to approach them, but we did try to place ourselves between them and the worst of the screaming. The girls wore clean clothes and appeared well-fed, and were not at all afraid of their parents.
Two years later, I spent a summer as a hospital chaplain, and met obviously neglected children who acted like frightened mice when their parents were cranky. I'll never know whether my suspicions were right. And now I wonder about what we find valuable enough to teach, because we always learn fear faster than grace, whether it's parenting or politics.
I wish I could believe that everyone's had a childhood that prepared them for trust and relationship and being the first to offer the olive branch. But I know better. Which is why I keep reaching for the truth that builds bridges of honesty and sheepish, not-quite begrudging good will. I believe it's the only way to the truth.