Where We Meet


I follow politics probably a little more than is healthy for me, though that is likely true for more people in the last few years than in the decade prior. I devote few words to it in this space, however. I’m aware that many writers are politically active, that many of them include and weave their beliefs into their work, while others stamp their convictions in bold letters on everything they write.

I’m tempted to stamp my own beliefs in these essays sometime as well, but I don’t want anyone to feel excluded. I’ve known people of all political persuasions. I worked with a woman once who thought the Dali Lama was going to hell because he practiced the wrong religion, and I knew a man who was certain that George W. Bush was an evil incarnate. I liked them both. I didn’t agree with them on everything – in fact, I disagreed with both of them on many things – but I still liked them.

I liked them because they were more than their ideas about foreign policy or who is or isn’t going to hell. Like me, they both wanted to laugh and feel appreciated and do work they enjoyed. Like me, they both wanted to be in love and they had both suffered loss and loneliness and sleepless nights. Like me, they would always rather be happy than sad, but on some days they were sadder than they were happy.

I always tried to meet them where we agreed, which isn’t so hard when you don’t focus solving the problems of the world. Such conversations never went well. But when we talked about ourselves, about when we worried and rejoiced, when we won and when we lost, there was always much to talk about. What’s more, the problems of the world, for that time at least, receded from our awareness as we enjoyed one another, as a reader enjoys a book, and a writer enjoys his story.

If you like the ideas and perspectives expressed here, feel free to contact me about individual coaching and group workshops.

William KenowerComment