Escape from the whimpering funk

As expected, I have made my way out of my whimpering episode of a few days ago. That particular bummed-out mood was the result of too strong a hit of the world’s troubles without much to balance it out. So, I attribute the rise in my hope-and-joy quotient to two forces of balance:

First, I went to hear Sound Circle perform “Praises for the World” again. Even though I just heard "Praises" a few weeks ago, I knew that relaxing into that calm space that’s somehow both very present and totally somewhere else would help. It did.

And second, I went to hear Obama speak. Why, I ask myself, is this so cool? For one thing, think about how often I’ll get to see a President, live and in real time. Probably once—this time. Add to that the fact that this isn't just any president. It’s Obama, the most enlightened, exhilarating president since JFK. The welcome remedy for too much “W.” The embodiment of the hope that progressive issues would at least be on the table again. And the only person who will ever be the first African-American president. Ever.

Obama at CU - he's the speck behind the podium. Trust me. 
For better pictures, click here.

Sure, it’s not all sweetness and light. I’m disappointed in Obama in a lot of ways. Virtually every progressive social-change advocate I know is. Still, several things make me deeply appreciative of him—and eager to share that enthusiasm with about 10,000 other noisy folks. Items on my list:

1.      I take responsibility for a large chunk of my disappointment. The man I voted for, the man for whom I shed tears at the inauguration, was at least partly a figment of my grandiose hopes. I saw him as everything W was not. I saw him as the personification of everything I thought should happen. I saw him a super-human. The contrast between fantasy and reality is often disappointing. It’s always disheartening when idols turn out to be mere mortals operating in a world of mortals. It's tough when the image we have of someone (full of nonsense though it may be) turns out not to be who s/he actually is as a human being. We’ve all had that experience. This time, it was just so huge—the hopes, and therefore the loss. In truth, much of what I’m disappointed about was never on Obama's agenda. It was on mine.

2.      I am aware that lots of what he “failed” to do was the result of working against incredible odds. He had very little experience in Washington, a Cuisinart of a place that can turn anything into mush in a minute. He started with a massive deficit, an economy on the fast track to heck, and a totally obstructionist congress. Sure, it’s all his responsibility now, and lots of us wish he had done more. But he did start out at a bit of a disadvantage, which my idealistic image hadn’t accounted for very well.

3.      Despite all this, he has actually accomplished many things, lots of it below the radar. Many of these initiatives have felt like far too little and often too late. He has completely failed in some domains—“evolving” on same-sex marriage now puts him squarely with most prominent Republicans, and immigration reform remains largely an empty promise. But he has led the way on some significant changes, even in the face of a process that is clearly broken. And, equally (or more) importantly, he has changed the conversation. Before this presidency, we weren’t even discussing health care reform; hate crimes legislation dragged on largely unnoticed; banking reform, credit card reform, and mortgage reform weren’t even in the lingo; and the idea of actually working together with other nations, considering diplomacy as a useful and honorable strategy, was a long-forgotten dream. At least I hear my concerns discussed, even though they are not always fruitfully resolved.

4.      Finally, there’s the practical bottom line. This argument is less noble but equally compelling: Who else would I vote for? When I consider the alternatives, I realize that Obama’s losing in the fall would mean a 180° retreat from a whole host of issues that matter to me.

I'm not campaigning here. Just clarifying why I was willing to go through the hassles it took to see this man from across a packed event center, disheartened though I sometimes am by his administration.  

So, I went. In fact, I went way out of my way to do it. One day, my partner and I stood in line waiting for her ticket because she was in a different ticket category from me. The next day, I stood (actually, I sat) in line for almost 3 hours waiting to get my ticket. Then, on the big day, we started waiting in line at 3:15 for a 7:00 event. We actually got in about 4:30, I think, which means that we waited for another 2½ hours after we got through the door (and the security screening). Once inside, we were able, thanks to a friend who went with us, to strategize and rush through the crowds of students (aptly nicknamed the “thundering herd”) to get seats directly across from the stage. (The truth is that our friend actually did both the strategizing and the rushing; we just followed her to the seats she staked out).

Nothing in Obama’s talk was surprising. But it was Obama, after all, and he is such a remarkable orator.  A recipe for vegetable soup would sound lofty spoken by him. Besides, he was talking about college and students and student loans, topics close to my heart. I expected his speech to revitalize my hopefulness, and it did.

So, there you have the antidote for bummed-out thumb sucking. A hit of inspiring music, a dose of soaring oratory—neither of them surprising but both uplifting—hoisted me out of my whimpering funk and back to the land of everyday joy and distress. 

I knew it would happen. But when my thumb is in my mouth, I sometimes have trouble seeing past my fist.