The political season is in full swing. All around me is the incessant buzz of political opinions. It's on the news, on the talk shows, in the library, at the grocery store, at family dinners, even invading my favorite blogs. It's not that I mind the vocal masses working through their decision to vote for the next leader of the free world. It's more the frustration that I have little to say and little desire to engage.
I have listened to the speeches and thanks to my mom I am informed of any newsworthy happenings (truly, thank you mom from preventing me from being out of touch.) I have read my favorite blogs, despite my occasional disappointment that I must endure another rant for/against a particular candidate before I get to things I rather read. Things like how to sew a button-hole or what someone's child did that was amusing.
I was concerned at my blase' attitude for awhile. After all I am usually 'passionate' about things I feel are important. For instance; just yesterday Brad and I had a huge debate about BBQ sauce. It was so passionate and heated that Kate called out " Mom. Dad. Are you OK? Whats happening?"
You would think the future of this country would ignite more passionate discussion than BBQ sauce.
Maybe it is because every other blogger is expressing their view and I rather not be lost in sea of political opinion. Or perhaps I am acutely aware that, be it blog,friend, or family, I am surrounded by those who do not share my view. I do live in Austin. My viewpoint does not exactly fit the stereotypical Austin-ite persona. Then again, is this not what "KEEPS AUSTIN WEIRD"?
It could be that I do not want to endure the biting remarks and demands to justify my decision. Risking the possibility of whining, I am just tired of all the ridicule and tearing down of others. I am not saying we should all get along or agree - we are created different and unique. At the end of the day, I am so tired from chasing a puppy, teaching my preschooler, and loving my husband that I have little patience for cutting generalized comments directed at me or the party I choose to join.....or the party I choose not to. Do I think the other candidate is off their rocker? Yes. Do I want to dissect their families and trash talk their hair-do's? Nope.
At the very core is the need to protect the relationships I have and my own person. The decision to vote for one person versus the other is deeply personal, it forces you to choose sides. There are only two options. You choose and you are now aligning yourself with people who may have some similar beliefs but who are vastly different from you. In the face of debate you feel the need to justify where you stand exactly - I feel the need to resist the box others may try to desperately shove me into. I hate boxes. I also hate to justify or explain. I hate the need to protect. I have friends who have been outspoken about their viewpoint in an assumption that I would understand or relate. I may relate but I also heard you say I was stupid, ridiculous, and detriment to the country. You didn't use my name but you referred to those in that party. those who vote for that candidate. those people.
Well, those people just hugged you. Yep, stupid, ridiculous, detriment to the country. If you noticed me playing devil's advocate or not agreeing - it's because you un-wittingly called me your opponent. But I value our relationship. I am glad our views differ. I am thankful that we are created unique. I am glad that God allows variables and spectrum in His creation. I like the sound of sharpening iron. Will you still hug me when I am stupid, ridiculous, and a detriment to the country?
I think that my lack of motivation is simple. I know that my decision is made. Honestly, it was easy and clear. I know where I stand and I know the decision is good. It is not "the right choice for me", it is the right choice period. I don't lack passion for the issues but the patience to repeat myself when asked why. This stupid, ridiculous, detriment to the country is anxiously awaiting election day.
*written prior to posting date.