None of This is New
October 31, 2011
Those commenting on national affairs keep saying that our political processes are too polarized to get anything done; but political parties were every bit as divided in the 18th, 19th and 20th centuries as they are today, and public debate was even more strident than the lack of civility we see today.
The grilling of Supreme Court nominees, Wall Street bankers and British Petroleum executives can seem sensational, but this has been nothing like the early 1950s when Senator McCarthy of Wisconsin conducted hearings into Communist sympathies of employees in government and Hollywood.
It is almost laughable to assert that modern political debate is disintegrating. Heck, in 1804 our nation’s vice president, while in office, challenged a critic to a duel. And shot him dead! Now that’s discord!
My point is that the political process didn’t break recently. If it’s broken, it’s always been broken, always contentious and acrimonious – from the drafting of the Declaration of Independence and Constitution, to the War Between the States, until today: corrupt politicians, polarized political parties, bitter debates, contentious elections.
None of this is new, except for the increased media coverage. None of this alone is to blame for today’s inability to solve problems. And all of this together is not to blame for today’s problems.
Perhaps closer to the heart of the problems today in Michigan and our nation is a lack of heart in “we the people.” A lack of passion, principle and – most of all – common vision and purpose.
Maybe we’ve just had it so good for so long that we’ve forgotten to dream for better days and fight for a better future.
Maybe these tough times will refresh our dreams and reignite the fight.
Swimming Lessons
January 19, 2016
I found a place between Christmas and New Year’s Day that was out of Internet reach. For four days and three nights I spent most of the days in the water looking downward into an ocean of coral canyons surrounded by swarms of colorful fish, and much of the nights on the open deck of a catamaran looking up at a nearly full moon moving between stars and swirling clouds. Here is some of what I learned from experiences, rather than from Google, on those days.
First, flying fish really do fly, on average, about the length of a football field.
Second, sea urchins have an edible element, if the spiny critters are smoked in a fire of coconuts and palm fronds and then soaked in saltwater, and if you are either desperately marooned on some remote island or just trying to be nice to the local residents you just met who believe the urchin's slimy, salty core is a delicacy that hospitality requires be shared and graciousness demands be appreciated.
And, more relevant to the work we share that I tried unsuccessfully to tune out for these four days, I learned ...
What you see in the ocean is distorted until you put on your goggles and get beneath the surface of the water. Getting beneath the surface of things is necessary for clear vision.
What you see first is likely to be the flashy fish, while the greater significance is observed more slowly in what appears to be their inanimate habitats, which turn out to be alive with movement if you wait and watch for it. Patience is necessary for clear vision.
The wavy six-inch line of purple coral was really the lips of a large clam that actually separate a fraction of an inch every minute or so to take in the nourishment of the sea. The brown stump below it was really a sea cucumber that actually moves an inch or two a day to vacuum the ocean floor. I saw none of this until I got beneath the surface, and waited.