Posted on by The Other Jennifer Potter · 3 Comments

Tough Love

I have been the recipient of tough love on several occasions. I am referring to the experience of being told something I didn’t want to hear because it was hard to hear. But as the pain ebbed, I could see that I needed to hear what was being said. It is that moment of truth you initially push aside because it hits a little too close to home; a truth that challenges the narrative you have chosen to believe; a truth that feels like a mirror being held up too close to reveal a flaw you would rather not see.

Rarely does a tough love moment work the first time its message is conveyed. Its effectiveness usually requires multiple supporting messages and a recipient willing to listen or at least unable to ignore. One of my tough love moments was about money. And in hindsight I realized how that moment had been years in the making. I didn’t enjoy my tough love moment. But I was changed by it, for the better.

Initially I didn’t believe any logical and loving person could vote for Trump. When he was elected, I was shocked. When I realized some of my friends and family voted for Trump, I couldn’t really talk about it. I was so incredibly uncomfortable with the thought that one could believe Trump deserved the office of President. The only argument I heard that made any sense was the struggling coal miner who believed that Trump might revitalize the coal industry. I didn’t believe Trump would actually do that. But I could wrap my head around it.

I still can’t comprehend how a logical and loving person supports Trump. I’m not saying that a Trump supporter can’t be logical and loving. I am saying that a Trump supporter has a malfunction going on in both logic and love. That is my tough love message. Trump is a malignancy and in order to support him, you must deny the damage and ignore the hurt he is causing.

It doesn’t matter how he advances your convictions, who he puts into power for you, or what you gain. Nothing is worth the damage this president is causing at the expense of others. Without love, we are nothing and we gain nothing. And so we need to cut out the fucking cancer. If you are a Trump supporter, put forth a decent candidate for 2020 who represents you without decimating decency. Put forth a candidate who is able to argue his or her ideas rather than relying on cruelty towards another. Put forth a candidate who serves more than his or her own ego. Put forth a candidate with integrity. I believe with all my heart that Trump supporters need this tough love moment.

I am aware of a paradox here. While I articulate my belief that Trump supporters need to do better, I am convicted of the reality that I too need to do better. I must move past my disbelief and discomfort and have the conversation with my family and friends who support this president. I need to speak and listen, which will not be easy. I propose, if you are also willing, that we try to give each other room. Thank you for reading this far. Now tell me what it is you are fighting for. Tell me what the tough love message is for me. It might be difficult to do, for both of us. But isn’t it time we choose something other than division or superficiality?

I have one final thought to share. It is not only our convictions that reveal who we are, but it is the substance of our lives: the quality of our relationships, the sense of peace versus fear we carry, and the love or lack thereof that we give. I hope my life is about love, whether I am standing up for the marginalized, or listening to someone I completely disagree with because love never fails.

 

Posted on by The Other Jennifer Potter

A Web of Thoughts

I assumed for years that everyone lives in their heads like I live in mine. I don’t think linearly; I think in weblike thoughts. One thought goes in three directions. And each of those takes three more turns. Sometimes my consciousness stays with one or two while my subconscious continues to build the web. Sometimes I sit still, watching the twists and turns my thoughts take. I marvel at and love the infinite possibilities of thought and idea.

I suppose this is one reason why one of my favorite things to do is just sit and listen to my thoughts. This is also why I have about 20 journals at any given time, in my home, purse, car and office. When a thought comes to me that I want to remember, I write it down wherever space on a page exists.

I was in high school when I started to realize not everyone was like this. I began to understand that my stream of consciousness felt like random, sometimes confusing thoughts to others. I could see how my mind went from thought to thought, with a few (or several) unspoken thoughts in between. It might not have made sense to others but it made perfect sense to me. As an introvert, I often wasn’t eager to put my thought process out there. And so I got used to being labeled as weird.

In my 20’s I became increasingly deliberate about what to share. It was easier to keep my thoughts mostly in my head. I didn’t have to explain. And it felt somehow less painful to assume someone wouldn’t understand than to know that for sure. But in doing so, I spent less time hearing my thoughts. I thought I was listening, but I wasn’t listening very well.

In my 30’s I was ready to find my words. I was increasingly okay with not being understood. I wanted to be my authentic self whether I was likable or not, whether I was acceptable or not. It took time though because years of neglect had dulled my abilities. I had to learn what was truly my voice versus the voices of others playing on auto-repeat in my head.

In my 40’s I perfected my ability to listen and worked on crafting my thoughts into coherent sentences. This was sometimes for the sake of sharing with another. But more importantly it was my process of understanding what I was thinking and feeling. For a linear thinker, this is probably a little more straightforward. But for me, each strand of the web has a purpose of providing stability to the overall structure. Some strands are more important than others, but serves a purpose nonetheless.

A byproduct of hearing my own voice was learning to hear others better. I learned how to distinguish between what someone was communicating and what I wanted to hear or how I was trying to interpret those words. This isn’t always easy, particularly when hurt is involved. But I have developed the tools that improve my ability to do so.

At 50 years old and looking ahead, I wonder what the next decade will bring. I have often thoughtfully assembled the components of my life – responsibilities, relationships, hobbies, etc – to accurately reflect my values and priorities. I have a full life, personally and professionally. But fullness can sometimes become a bit too full. I suspect it is time to prune a bit here and there. I am feeling the need to bring a bit more spaciousness to my life. I want both fullness and depth. The space will create the time to do the work I find most meaningful.

We should all know or seek to learn what we are good at, passionate about, and uniquely gifted in. I believe my way of thinking is part of that. My thought process brings an infrastructure to a space without defining or confining the space. My thought process enables exploration versus explanation. And I absolutely love that about me. I want to use what I have learned, what I love, what is uniquely me.

I may never get paid as a writer. I may never develop an audience. But my writing is about neither of those things. It is the process by which I make sense of my thoughts. I guess what I am now seeing as I step back from this web of thoughts, is that the spaciousness I seek is intended to make room for my writing. I want my writing not to be another thing in my life, but rather the stream which runs through all parts of my life. If just for my benefit, that is okay. My voice is no more important than another. But my voice, my thoughts, my words are uniquely mine.