How do we hold each other?

A while ago, my mom found herself wading into political topics with a new friend. Let’s call her Tracy. Tracy leans left, and I guess she assumed Mom did too. Things got ugly. Tracy said all kinds of things about people on the right that Mom found pretty hurtful.

Only, Mom didn't hit back.

In that moment — I realized as she recounted all this to me in one of our longer phone chats — she managed to recognize her friend's anger for what it was: the anger of desperation, frustration, confoundedness, and hopelessness. Mom felt attacked, but knew that her friend wasn't attacking her. 

Instead, what Mom heard in Tracy’s raw comments was how scared she was for the country, and for people she loved.

So my mom became a kind of counselor. She held Tracy through her tears, listening with loads and attention and finding — and voicing — lots of agreement with her concerns.

Her goal was not to defend herself or her side or to convince Tracy of anything, Mom told me. In that moment, she just wanted to care for a friend. 

I think this is the kind of holding that we need to do with each other more often. 

What if, when someone hits us over our politics, we don’t immediately hit back?

What if instead of treating the anger or aggression we witness automatically as an attack, we stand in the storm and listen for something deeper?

So many of us are set off by politics these days. And who can blame us? Things are nuts right now. 

But we still have a choice. We can let our reactions widen our rifts with friends and family members… or take braver steps to heal them. 

Stay curious, all.