Clear Eyes

I don't have a picture for you - I'm sorry. But I do have a vision.

First, you need to know something about me that I haven't ever discussed here. I stay out of politics. I don't read newspapers and I don't watch TV news. That CNN theme that's playing on my television right now has never before been played here.

I don't normally think of myself as being a cynic, or even much of a skeptic, but in this one area of life, there's no denying it. I'm very, very distrustful of politicians, and I don't put much stock in that whole area of life. I feel that my energies are better devoted to other pursuits - to creating art, to living my life close to the center of where I feel that truth, the big truth, the grand capital-T truth might dwell.

But.

Tonight I ran into a neighbor while I was bringing my bike inside, and he invited me to join them in a small election party across the way. And I said yes.

And I watched, heart in my hands, for two hours, while the numbers rolled in.

I'd watched exactly ten minutes of a single speech Obama had made, months ago, during one of the debates, and that only because a friend had urged me to see it, just to see how the man speaks - to see his capacity to be believable, to be earnest, and articulate, and to dream big dreams aloud and dare to try and bring his listeners with him.

My friend was right, and I was startled by it, but still I turned off the television after a few minutes, because I don't follow politics.

But.

Tonight when the Rev. Jesse Jackson burst into tears, I did too.

And when our new president-elect spoke, I listened to everything he said, carefully, and I watched his face as he said it, his intelligent, earnest expression, his brave hopefulness, his belief.

I was impressed by his humanness. By his grasp of the need to be straight with us, and with himself, about the magnitude of what he's taking on. About the mess we're in, the whole damned planet of us, in some ways. And by his seeming understanding of how badly we all need to believe that we can do better. And by his excitement about trying to make it all happen, as best he can - one man and a team of workers.

And I felt something weird, something unexpected. I trusted him. I believed him. I don't know if he can do it, but I believe he will really try. And I trust his intelligence, and his understanding of his humanity, the limitations of that and the possibilities of that. For the first time in a long time - maybe ever, I feel like we're in good hands.

Not because he's perfect, but precisely because he isn't. He's highly intelligent; he will be able to figure things out. He has depth. He understands. And he will learn.

And watching, I felt the cynicism I didn't know I had draining out of me like venom leaving a wound. Hope, indeed.