The weight of an inauguration

 

I was so moved by the inauguration ceremony today that I leaked tears the entire time (and the entire day after). As the ceremony came to a close, in addition to relief, pride, and hope, I felt exhausted. Utterly exhausted. I could hardly keep my eyes open, my head up. I felt drained. Not emotionless. Not empty. Just like I need to shut down for a minute or two and stay in the space between the grief of the past 4+ years and the hope for the next four. I felt like the moon. The real, cratered moon that's been pelted by meteors for eons. I stayed alert through the long dark night of the past 4 years, and as the sun comes up, I just need a minute of rest. Or maybe a few.

We have so much work to do. I know today was a beginning, not an end. And yet, that feeling of exhaustion is still with me tonight as I write, after the afternoon parade and the evening program and the fireworks. It was all so inspiring, so dignified and joyful. My heart is full of cautious hope and yet I feel exhausted.

Some guy I don't know posted this comment on a friend's post about the inauguration: "You are the only person I have seen post anything about the inauguration today...80 million people silent. Remember when Trump won FB was swamped with flags and people excited. I still find it hard to believe 80million voters showed up on election day, but not on Bidens [sic] social media, rallies or even posting support of his big day on social media...very odd indeed."

I almost scrolled on by. I almost wrote "You're a dumbass." I almost wrote, "Shut the fuck up, you delusional piece of shit. Your guy lost and it's over." I almost wrote that my Facebook was filled with angry tears and disbelief on January 20, 2017, and I was packing to ride a bus to DC to protest in the huge, non-violent Women's March." Instead I told him my Facebook newsfeed was filled with happy, hopeful posts about Biden's inauguration (true story), and that it looked like he was hanging around with the wrong crowd. I think maybe he doesn't remember what normal looks like, what humble looks like.

Do any of us remember what normal looks like though? One of the first things we need to give up is our national addiction to drama. To always being on alert. To the constant bombardment of insults and horrible decisions; the pathological attention we've been paying to the horror show that's played out in the White House over the past four years. We have to give up the adrenaline-fueled rush of alarm, of dread, of rage, of disbelief ... it's addictive and venomous. We're like rats hitting that treat button, and the treat we get is poisoned. It's making us sick. All of us. Whether we hated Donald Trump or loved him, he is a sick man who made us sick too. And I'm afraid we've forgotten how to live without it. I'm afraid we've forgotten to expect decency, from our government and from ourselves.

Maybe the guy who wrote that comment doesn't recognize Biden's dignified, even-tempered, intelligent strength. Maybe he hasn't seen how Biden's refusal to shout and rant and seek constant attention is exactly what we need now. It's what all of us need no matter whom we voted for. We're exhausted and we're sick and we still can't let down our guard.

So today, we got what we needed: a quiet, sane, dignified, sweet transfer of ... not power, but character. A transfer of character. Just like Donald Trump was the disappointing opposite of Barrack Obama, so too is Joe Biden a different opposite of Donald Trump.

And now that Trump has shown us the worst in our country, the worst in ourselves, maybe Joe Biden and Kamala Harris can help us find in our national story the heroic tale we've always wanted it to be. Maybe this is what it took to burn off the lies we tell about ourselves, our country, and start with new bones. What we've seen destroyed, we now have to build with a new vision. Together. Eyes open.

Today I felt like a burden was lifted, and I'm so joyful that burden has flown off to Florida. I hope the exhaustion I feel from carrying that heavy load of lies, gaslighting, cruelty and disdain, as we all have, gives way to new strength soon. You can't build new muscle without tearing down the old. So I'll drink a glass of chardonnay, go to bed early and plan to wake up tomorrow feeling calmer and saner, kinder and less ready to flip the rage switch, more like Joe and Kamala.

Brave enough to be the light.