Well, here we are. We could see this coming. We could say we predicted it. But now that it’s here, it stings a bit more, cuts deeper, and blankets everything with sadness. Where the United States, and for that matter, the world, goes from here is anyone's guess. Journalists pontificate, academics hypothesize, and political pundits postulate, but we have no idea what will come and where world order is headed.
This election and its results have been a slow burn for me - one that has been in play for a decade, following other societal trends that don’t totally align with my worldview. I think—and this may also be a consequence of age—I have officially lost the thread. The world seems to me like it has gone completely mad. I don’t get why people must take so many pictures of themselves and post them repeatedly on social media. I don’t resonate with people who remain staunchly optimistic when the world is so off-kilter with climate change, conflict, and inequity. I don’t understand why 733 million people going hungry, a 73% decline in wildlife populations since 1970, and a planet burning up, doesn’t make people infuriated and rise up!
In times like this, I turn to the arts—drowning myself in music and movies—the darker and more brooding, the better to complement my mood. The Cure’s new album, Songs of a Lost World, is one of their best albums in years. Like this song, entitled EndSong:
It's all gone, it's all gone
Nothing left of all I loved
It all feels wrong
It's all gone, it's all gone, it's all gone
No hopes, no dreams, no world
No, I don't belong
I don't belong here anymore
Don’t worry, my dear readers, I am fine. These lyrics are borderline suicidal, but that’s Robert Smith for ya— the king of goth is chronically depressed and despairing, but at least he stays true to his calling and self. While these lyrics are sullen, the world indeed does not feel all that right, and it is hard to find a place to fit neatly in it and remain, well, chipper (and by the way, he did write Friday I’m in Love - not my fav). At least for many, the feeling of belonging in the U.S. is getting harder (and scarier) to imagine.
So what to do? For one of the first times in my life, I don’t have a strategy, a plan, or a coping mechanism. And that doesn’t feel so great. In the immediate term, I will take each day as it comes and do my best to ensure that the people I care about are well, that we continue to do meaningful work that positively impacts the world, and that I enjoy every sandwich. In this crazy juncture, we can only control what is immediately before us and try to stay grounded and calm.
I was in Italy during the US election and woke up as the polls and results came in with Trump clearly in the lead. It was still dark and chilly, but I got up, put on my running clothes, and hiked up a mountain in time to see the sunrise as I got to the top. While the results weighed heavily on me, I saw that beautiful sun peeking up from the mountains onto the lake. I thought—this is a constant. The sun rises and sets every day. And it will continue to do so. At least, we have that.
