I have hate fatigue. The undercurrent of rage is everywhere, and in so many public and private places, exploding outward. Hate is seeping into my soul, and I’m afraid of the damage it could do to me.
I could make a “laundry list of outrage” – Putin’s aggression, 1,000,000 US COVID-19 deaths, criminalizing the unhoused in Tennessee, “Don’t Say Gay” in Florida, “parental rights” as a way to undermine public education, the war on women, human trafficking…but those terrible abuses fuel me to fight back, to be better, to help.
This malaise, however, is different. It’s like the brain fog of PTSD or long COVID. It saps my strength. It makes me vulnerable to sink into hate and to scream and rage. Tears. Hopelessness. It’s a terrible place to be. It’s the pit of madness from “The Heart of Darkness” – ugly, evil, sick.
Why would I choose the pit?
Because of the overwhelming tiredness of caring too much? Of witnessing the wretchedness of humanity almost every minute of every day? Experiencing the wanton destruction of our natural world to enrich the very few? Yeah. Probably.
Half of our country has chosen to live in the madness of despair. To believe false leaders and misinformation. To crush the vulnerable and “others” as the sacrifice that must be made to justify privilege. To selfishly believe that once they have their security, money, shelter, food – everyone else less fortunate deserves none. To break people – and if they can’t fix themselves, to criminalize their failures and incarcerate them for profit. That is hell.
Why dwell in Hell?
It seems so miserable and undesirable.
Last week I dropped into a warming shelter in Great Falls. I posed for pictures, shook a lot of hands and made sure I was seen by community leaders. On my way out, I met a man who was sitting on the sidewalk outside of the shelter. I stopped and told him the warming center was open. He said it was too chaotic inside for him and while the sun was shining on his face, he felt warm. It was around 20 degrees but the early evening sun did make us feel warm. We started talking. He told me about his life on the Wind River reservation and his struggles to stay connected with his family. He told me about his beautiful niece he’d see soon in Billings – her name was Melissa too. We talked about how we were drawn to the mountains, but we only breathed deeply on the prairie. We talked about our struggles with pain. We laughed about our missteps. Our hearts connected. I gave him my card and some cash. He promised to call me to tell me he made it to Billings. We hugged not once, but several times. It’s as if we knew this fleeting fragile connection would only last for this moment.
I didn’t get a call. But I think about those brief minutes on a cold Spring evening with the sun on our faces, sharing our connections and feeling love, Agape.
Go gently, brother.
That’s the world I want to live in. Where we see each other. Where we help each other. Where moments of kindness transform our pain. Where hugging a stranger keeps your heart engaged for days. Where there is joy. Where there is abundance. Where there is love for mankind, Agape.
That’s what I’m fighting for. To choose to live outside the pit of darkness. Never forgetting it is there. Not numbing existential pain with avoidance. Instead, living fully in light and hope, goodness and truth. That world is here and it is possible.
We all have a choice. We can start to restore the common good by who we vote for in each election. Vote for candidates who embrace a world of justice, peace, prosperity, and goodness.
Otherwise we will be forced by our silence to live in a cesspool of hate, fueled by fear, fostered by the cynical manipulation by the powerful of the willfully ignorant.
