How long has it been since our nation felt like it was normal? It seems like we've been on high alert for so long. Over these past weeks as the election drew near, the current of worry and dread has been rising until it feels like we're being swept along on a tide of fear. There's a doomsday feel to it all; every phone call, every headline is another urgent message warning us that our nation is rushing towards disaster.
We're in trouble. The other side is out to get you. This election could break America. We'll never be the same. Is it any wonder so many of us - on both sides of the political aisle - feel powerless and terrified?
Elections. What felt once like a ritual of national choice now feels like a ride down an uncharted river. Will we survive? Will we capsize and get swept away, or wash up in some horrible swamp? Where will our country be, when we're done riding this river and finally reach calmer waters?
And now, with election day finally here, there's no turning back. There's no way out but through.
It reminds me of the day many years ago when my family went white-water rafting. It was early summer, and the water was still high from the spring rains. The river meandered along, and we chatted and laughed, enjoying the warm sun and trying out our skills in the slow-moving water.
But then someone said, "Listen. Hear that?" The sound of the water had changed - it was deeper, more urgent. My mother peered ahead. "Look out, everyone - we've got trouble." Ahead, the river was a mass of white water foaming over boulders. We were heading right for it, and there was no turning back.
We braced ourselves, shouted directions, and then we were swept into the rapids, the water pouring over and around boulders and roaring down the slope. "Right!" "Left!" my dad called, and we steered around the rocks, paddling furiously. No laughter now, just intense concentration and cold fear.
On and on, frantic paddling, slipping through narrow channels and sliding down chutes and over waterfalls. Adrenaline and exhaustion and suddenly it was too much and we hit a rock and the water tipped our raft into the air. I remember seeing my brother above me, clutching his paddle, both of us pale. Our eyes met, and then the raft slammed back down, right side up, thankfully, and on we whirled.
More turns, more paddling, but after what seemed an eternity the current slowed, and finally we were drifting on calm water. We looked around at one another. "Well, at least we didn't lose anyone!" my mother said, and we all shared some shaky laughter.
We're heading into rough waters, I fear, today and in the days to come. But if you start to feel hopeless, stop and think of all the challenges we've navigated as a country. We've been through hard times before this and found a way through.
Whatever happens, we'll get past this, and then deal with what's next. Then we can work together to mend our bridges and find our path together. The country I love, with all its strength and diversity, is still there, ready to be found again.
I hear that roaring water ahead. We need every one of us to help get us safely through. Grab your paddle - we have work to do!
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