The Morning After

I started the campaign season with a mixture of apathy and cynicism. Ron Paul didn't make it through the primaries (don't get me started), and I just lost my appetite for the whole process. But after we voted, my husband for the first time in 28 years, something odd happened: we cared about the outcome.

We don't have TV, so we kept tabs on the race via the internet. Our primary source of information was the interactive map provided by Reuters.com. I compulsively refreshed the screen until it became clear that Obama had won. As a long time resident of Arizona, I never take a race for granted (anybody else remember waking up to the shocking horror of Ev Mecham's governorship?), so I waited until McCain conceded the race to fully believe that it was over.

Then another strange thing happened. I felt hope.

It sounds overly romantic and/or dramatic, but the knowledge that such an historic event had happened in my lifetime, that my family was here to witness it, filled me with a hope for our future that I hadn't really dared to dream about. I don't know a lot about our new president, but I know he's a symbol of change, and I witnessed my fellow countrymen and women affirm their desire for change.

And things must surely change dramatically. The change we've been intuitively sensing, some with fear and others with excitement, has arrived.

Already in the mini-blogs like mine, people are starting to voice their concern for our new president's safety. It has been an occasional topic of discussion in our home for months now. I have advised my children to pray for his safety. History does not have to repeat itself. We can, as a nation, hold his safety in our imagination, rather than fear. It is part of the Great Change that has come - to combat fear with love and confidence. And our collective love, imagination, and confidence can do nothing but produce many great outcomes.

Relish this time, my friends. We have a sacred work to do, and now we can be fueled with the hope that we do not do it alone, but with many, so many, at our side.

Namaste,
Cindy