Purple

     I shamefully admit to having made each of the following comments last night: 1. "Obama's reelection will bring us together.  We can all stand together and sing "Kumbaya" in the soup lines." 2) "If we're going to live in a socialist country for the next four years, let's move to France.  At least they've got delicious pastries and the Louvre."  3) "Maybe the Mayans were right, and we'll only have to put up with Obama and Biden for about another month or so."  I am now ashamed of having made these comments because I have had more time to reflect.  Like tea, thoughts often get better the longer we let them steep.  You see, I left the polls last night in my bright red sweater and drove off in my red mini van in which the stereo was blasting my new "Red" cd by Taylor Swift.  It probably wouldn't have been too difficult for an outside observer to discern which side of the election I stood on.  Aside from being a Republican, I am also a Mormon, and I have to admit that the possibility of having a Mormon president excited me.  Please don't misunderstand; I did not vote for Mitt Romney only because he is a Mormon.  I agreed with many of his ideas about turning the economy around.  But, if I am being completely honest with myself, I think that there was a small part of me that voted for him because he shared my religious convictions.  When I heard that Obama had been reelected, and in such a landslide, when almost every political pundit and poll had predicted that the results would likely be too close to call (some even predicted a tie), I was seeing red all over again.  I was angry, hurt, disappointed, afraid.  The candidate in whom I had placed all my hopes of a new beginning for this haggard nation had not been elected.  I felt defeated.  In fact, as I drove the nearly empty streets on my way home from a shopping trip, I could sense a tangible disappointment all around me.  While people in so many "blue" states around the country lit up the air with excitement and victory celebrations, the very "red" state of Idaho seemed bluer than ever.  All of the hope that Romney's election symbolized was crushed in an instant by two words: "Obama reelected."
     It was upon returning home from shopping that the a fore mentioned utterances escaped my lips as I slammed bags of groceries onto counters.  Dirk was clearly disappointed as well.  The air in our home was rife with the fear of the implications these election results would have for us as a nation and for us individually.  It is fear of the unknown that so often leads to anger, sometimes even hatred.  I was afraid and I was angry.  Thank goodness for the merciful truth that each new dawn brings with it new possibilities.  I awoke this morning feeling much more at peace than I had the night before.  As I was fixing my daughter's hair for school, I informed her that President Obama had won the election.  "I know", she replied, and her face fell a little.  Her school class had "voted" the day before, and in her own little eight year old world, she had been campaigning for Mitt Romney all around the playground.  For what little understanding she had of the significance of the events unfolding, she was still disappointed that her "team" hadn't won.  Mostly in an effort to console her, I said, "It's ok sweetheart. President Obama is a good man too.  He will do his best for us."  Often times it is not utnil we express a thought aloud that we realize we truly believe it.  At that moment I realized that I do believe President Obama to be a good man.  And why should I believe otherwise?  I don't know his life story; where and how he grew up; hopes and dreams which have been lost or realized along his journey.  Without knowing him personally, I can never fully understand where his opinions and policies come from.  But, as a glass half full kinda girl, I am choosing to believe that they come from his heart. I was also able to find solace and even joy in the elation of so many around this country who are celebrating today.  One of the beauties and privileges of being human is that we have the great capacity to feel joy for others even when we may disagree with the cause of their celebration.  I thought of several people whom I know personally who had voted for Obama.  Suddenly, their joy became my joy.  Their hope became my hope.  My political policies (for what they are- I am not exactly a poli-sci major here) did not change in that instant.  But I realized that the vote is in, the die is cast.  We have a president, and I am choosing to stand behind him and to give him the benefit of the doubt.  Hatred and fear are more immobilizing than an astounding national deficit.  Love, acceptance, and compromise are the mobilizing forces we need.  This nation will sink or swim as it it destined to do, regardless of the actions of one man.  The question is, will we sink or swim together, or will we tear one another apart trying to scamper for our own place on the life raft?
     Red is such a beautiful color.  It is passionate and inspiring.  It can liven up any room or landscape with just a few small touches.  Blue is deep and soothing and enveloping.  Both colors are equally beautiful in different ways.  But, put them together, and you get the most beautiful of all colors; purple.  When I look at my children and think about what the future may hold for them, I realize that I don't want them to live in a nation divided by petty differences.  My hope for them is that they will one day live in a purple nation, one in which we are all working together, despite our individual differences, toward a brighter future, but, more importantly, toward a kinder world.