“One may not safely give unless one is open and ready to receive the gifts of others—whatever they might be,” wrote Robert Greenleaf in the May 1, 1976 issue of Friends Journal: Quaker Thought and Life Today. Democracy was the number one issue for many who voted in this year’s presidential election. Democracy delivered Donald Trump. Kamala Harris gracefully accepted the election results after her whirlwind campaign. She encouraged all of us, especially young people, not to give up.
I woke up the morning after the election wondering if I really wanted to live in this country. It was a rough, watery-eyed day. A few courageous friends reached out. I put myself on low-dose news. I made sure I did my exercises, hoping to exorcize the negative energy swirling around in my head. I had a craniosacral appointment and got hugs before and after.
Kate, my ride to dinner, apologized for being late. She’d had quite a day and told me she was going to make me even later. She had one more medical meal to deliver and another resident to pick up. When Bob, the other resident, got in the car, his visiting daughter was with him. Her name was Hope.
“That is a good name for today. It’s been a tough one,” I noted. We uttered an audible sigh. Delivered to the door of the Community Center, Bob mentioned to Hope that I nominated David Simas for the Gentry Lecture last month. “I love David!” she exclaimed. Hope oversaw travel plans for the Obama campaign. We agreed to have dinner together. We hugged for dessert. When Kate drove me home, I thanked her for the three of us for making us late for dinner at the same time. It cheered her up. It was a sweet ending to our sour day.
I recently donated to The Nature Conservancy in Vermont. Two days after the election, I received a gratitude note from Eve Frankel, State Director. She pointed out that nature will depend heavily on nonprofit leadership in the coming years if the president-elect keeps his promises on the environment. Since we share a love of poetry, she included this by Wendell Berry.
The Peace of Wild Things
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
I wonder what the gift of this year’s election will be. Living in fear is scary. Instead, I will give where my heart is—to democracy, nature, reproductive rights, child and eldercare, education, and building a Beloved Community that embraces everyone. Gifts come in many forms. Sometimes it’s as simple as showing up, being present to ourselves and for each other, listening for life’s gifts.
Speaking and listening with an open heart is a graceful, generous, and generative gift. There is nothing artificial about it.