On reading the times: right-wing riots and ordinary people.

Last week a niece in the US described her recent road trip across America. I was taken by this part:

‘I love a good long road trip, especially in the midst of elections. It’s not nearly as polarized when you get in there. I mean, it’s not great and I know who I’m voting for, that’s easy. But mostly, people are kind. I believe most want to be nice, thoughtful and take care of each other. Gas station clerks especially-not just in Montana, but also Ohio, and on the dang Penn turnpike when my card thought I was fraud while 58 people waited in line- the guy said, “oh man, I see this all the time. It’s on us. All good.” and the sweet lady that calls everyone “honey” in Omaha, they should make all the decisions. 

This is why we take the trip every single year-it is a reset button and it never fails to do its job. People are good and we keep being kind.’

Today I went out to get pastries for our Sunday brunch, and decided to take the long-way round (it adds about a mile). I never know what and who I might meet. A few days ago I experienced another first for my life in London, being offered some weed by a young teenager on a BMX bicycle. The weather today continued a spell of sun and warmth, with people out walking their dogs; young parents with their children at the play-ground; young people at tennis, and cricket practice; street-side tables in front of coffee shops all full. Peaceful scenes, and accompanied by bird-song. Really, at one point I found myself standing between the two sides of a blackbird conversation. This doesn’t feel like civil war.

Go take a walk!

Turning one corner I nearly walked into two people—I assume the people were grandmother and grandson walking their d
og—in the midst of conversation. The South London gran was speaking, ‘People have got to be kind. What’s the point of life if you aren’t kind? You gotta reach out…’.

Just what my beloved niece said! People need to go outside and talk to people. It is not as dark out there as many would have us believe.

 

I am reminded of the story in The Lord of the Rings when Gandalf the White comes to the Golden Hall of King Théoden of Rohan. The king sits in shadows, the fire burning as though in Winter, ‘so bent with age he seemed almost a dwarf’. Learning news only through the filter of his chief adviser, called Wormtongue by all around him, he is prematurely aged by the evil tidings of death and doom that was all he heard of. And Wormtongue offers nothing but ‘twisted tales and crooked promptings’. Gandalf strikes the man down with a roll of thunder, and brings the king outside. A shaft of sun stabs through distant storm clouds. Seeing the light shimmering through showers and on the river, Théoden remarks, ‘It is not so dark here!’

For too long, too many have spent too much time in darkened rooms before flickering screens listening to the twisted tales and crooked promptings of online influencers who would tell us that everything is failing and doomed; that it is all because of people of other politics (or race and faith); and that the response must be anger and outrage.

Go take a walk!