So(ul)journ!

I got lost! Completely unintentional. I had to make a run to a neighboring Lowe’s hardware store since the one in our town didn’t have the item I needed. It was only eighteen miles away, and I’d been there before—no big deal. I thought I’d whip up there first thing in the morning, get back, and get on with the job. Or so I thought.

I headed out early, without my usual, obligatory, face-the-world coffee. I’ll get one along the way, I figured. I start up the road, enjoying the sunshine. Traffic’s a bit heavy, and I’m faced with my first decision: do I take Bachman Valley Road or Union Mills? A bit blurry-headed, I decide on Union Mills … but as I pass Bachman Valley, I immediately realize I missed the turn. No worries, I tell myself. I’ll get there from Union Mills. I look at the trees on the hills—Wow, we’re at peak autumn! The colors are stunning.

I keep driving until I reach Union Mills and continue, enjoying the scenery. Then I realize—yeah, I should have turned back to the main road. Still, no worries; I’ve been on this road often. I visit folks at the hospital and a retirement community down this way and have even driven here for car service. Oh, look—a lot of cars are making a right at the four-way stop. Maybe this’ll get me where I need to go without driving through the center of town. Like a lemming, I turn to join the pack, heading down a road I’ve never been on in my life.

A mile down this road, I realize I have no idea where I am. No worries, I think, I’ll just pull out my phone and get directions. But when I reach for it, my pocket’s empty. I search every pocket—no phone. Are you kidding me? I think. How can I leave the house without my phone? What an idiot! No worries, though—I’ll recognize something soon, and sure enough, the next intersection is Baltimore Ave. I turn left to head into town.

Now, I only have a vague sense of where I am. There was a time I had a good sense of direction. Before mobile phones, I kept maps in my car and could find my way by landmarks. What do I have to work with? There’s the town square, the pretzel factory, the hospital, and the car dealership. The car dealership’s the only reference I have to get to the hardware store (as I recall, it’s down the road). At this point, I start to get annoyed. That stupid phone has made me dependent on it. Before phones, I never seemed to get lost (not true, but I’m blaming the phone right now for leaving itself at home). I start wondering if I’m becoming old—am I one of those people who get lost while driving? I could stop at that convenience store for directions, I think. But then I see a familiar street and turn, hoping it’ll lead me somewhere I recognize.

The more lost I get, the more hyper-vigilant I become, looking for street signs. And I start noticing other signs—political ones, plastered everywhere. They’re a distraction, and I realize I’m in an area where the majority of signs support candidates opposite my political leanings. I won’t lie, I feel pretty strong emotions. I start ranting to myself, questioning how anyone could vote for that person. There are little signs, billboard signs, and flags waving. Then I notice another banner promoting a football team whose fans wave bright yellow, terrible towels. At this point, I realize that while I’m only eighteen miles from home, I am lost, I am alone … and I am in enemy territory. With rising anxiety, I start to wonder, Where is my tribe?

Sigh … I really am lost.

What started as a simple task to pick up a hardware item has turned into an experience of anxiety, anger, and resentment toward people I don’t even know—people I feel animosity toward based on political or sports team loyalties. It’s a fair description of our state of existence: an embattled people. We’ve bought into the idea that our team is the best, our party is right, and those who aren’t for us are against us. This tribalism could lead to our destruction. I realize how easy it was for me to get lost in resentment, and I’m not proud of it. Calling myself into check, I observe how quickly I demonized others based on my own biases and views.

Oh, look! Eisenhower Rd! I realize I’ve found myself; I just need to turn left. A couple of blocks later, I pass Home Depot, and right next to it, that lovely blue Lowe’s sign. If Home Depot and Lowe’s can coexist side by side, then surely there’s hope for the rest of us.

On the way home, I take the more direct route. I notice more competing political signs, but many of them also carry a sign reading “NO MPRP.” Apparently, people can agree on some things. (For those not from our area, a feud is brewing over the government’s plan to use eminent domain to install high-voltage electrical grid lines through rural countryside, threatening family farms and autumn-adorned hillsides in our county.) Folks from both political parties are advocating against it—how cool is that?

As you practice your civic duties, I hope you won’t lose yourself in the noise and rhetoric. Vote. And when it’s all tallied, let’s take down the extra signs marking our differences and work toward that “more perfect union.”