Super Tuesday.
It's hit me like a full blast of nasty snarky hormones.
Here's a Buddhist-inspired aid to help us practice acceptance:
add "and that's OK" on the end of statements that you wish weren't true, but are.
(Tip from Martha Beck, in her book Finding Your Own North Star.)
It's surprisingly helpful. I actually became a smidge of a better human being today once I admitted,
"I don't want to go to my caucus..."
and added, "and that's OK."
Before this, though, I was horrid to a guy who has long bugged me at the YWCA. I felt a little bad afterward. He's an idiot, but he didn't deserve to have this pointed out to him.
I was all set to attend the DFL caucus and be a good citizen, or at least pretend;
but now the time is here, I can't stand to vote for either of the Big Two and everyone else has dropped out. (I was going to vote for Bill Richardson. Then Kucinich. Um, Edwards?)
I guess I'm more depressed than usual about this state of affairs because I so wanted to be thrilled to have a choice between a female and a black presidential front-runner.
But you know, when it gets down to it, equality reigns:
I dislike both remaining candidates as much as I would if they were white guys.
And the Republicans are worse--and they are white guys, so there's not even any symbolic blow for equality in voting for one.
I researched Cynthia McKinney--black and female and Green--and while I admire her spark, I don't agree with her on many issues--like her praise of Cuba.
(I've wondered, with Salman Rushdie, Why do leftists fall for bastards like Fidel who claim they represent the oppressed?)
So I am going to exercise my option to opt out. And I don't even have any Star Trek to watch to ease my pain.
I feel like a bad citizen.
And that's OK.
