Numero Uno is, of course, to deactivate Facebook for the months of September-Thanksgiving. It seems that no matter what sort of link I might share, whether it be sarcasm, light-hearted fun, or that oh-so rare unbiased news gem dug up from some am-writer in Potosi, Missouri, nothing is more depressing than knowing my "friends" (read: parents, grandparents, second grade teacher, rando who's generous with his conspiracy theory media, guy that knew a sibling and has infiltrated my news feed, girl who is ill-informed and doesn't know that choosing to ride her bike does more for gas prices than the POTUS, etc) are trolling my posts waiting to discern my political leanings, and feel that a public forum is the best possible place to leave me with an elaborate, electronic expression of their approval/disapproval, even if they haven't seen me in a decade. I apologize for that paragraph being only two sentences.
But there's one thing even worse: Guy who says, "Can't we all just get along?!" and shares something about "Unity... anger is bad... disagreements are dumb... and that's why I'm not voting!" Because his opinion of not having an opinion is, in his opinion, the ultimate opinion. Then people "like" that status and I'm left wanting to throw my Mac out the window and move to an island of population me and my dog... It's not your fault Facebook. I have no willpower and can't bring myself to sift through the looney bin that has become my friend collection.
#2: I want to read everything. This one's hard because, like most everyone else, my life gets busy. But I believe that if I really try to read everything, then I will feel more and understand more about Libya and Syria and Pakistan and Egypt and Spain and Greece and Venezuela, and will never, not even for a moment, let something dumb like "I'm not voting" occupy one ounce of my brain space.
#3: I want to listen more than I speak. And when I do speak, I have sub-rules:
a) Don't repeat things that have already been said.
b) Don't be overly condescending, or state the obvious, specifically like This Guy. (If you don't understand where to put your hope or how to express it, you haven't understood the gospel.)
c) As much as possible, and wherever appropriate, be funny.
#4: I want to be honest, and this extends well beyond November 6th. My pinch is that very little in the world feels honest enough. Some are afraid to feel their feelings, to have hard conversations and say real things. It can be hard to be vulnerable, or to be wrong. Using your keyboard to say some things is okay; using your voice is better. I continually want to be more aware of the living: my friends, and people, and the plight of people, and of my free time and wallet and public policy and my faith, and I want to press in to the full weight of heavy things more than I press in to comedy and fun.
I hope you vote. I hope you've put in place ways to protect your mental/emotional/spiritual health as you decide who to vote for. I hope you wrestle with what it is to be American, what it looks like, what responsibility it carries. And mostly, I hope you are patient with me as I will surely fail at some or all of these ideals I aspire to uphold for myself.
