BRATTLEBORO — I don't really like to get up early in the morning. But winter's here, and the recent ice/rain storm meant I had to arise to heat the car up and clear the windshield.
A half a cup of coffee later, I treaded out into the icy rain, which spoiled my mood. As I scraped the windshield, I noticed the sparrows plundering the bird feeder seeds. Amid the morning storm, those little guys continued to do just what I had to do: eat breakfast and face the day.
Their innocence was welcoming. Those birds teach something about resiliency and comfort. A feeling of comfort, a sense that “it's going to be OK,” came over me.
I'd experienced this feeling before: “the comfort of the same,” as I call it. Weather does its thing each November, no matter what's going on in the world. We all have those things that we do no matter what's going on around us. You can count on certain things to always be the same.
And there's a comfort in that fact.
* * *
We certainly see lots of pain and suffering out there in America. People have lost their jobs and homes. Retirement accounts are emptied. Families have broken up. Others need food and more.
One of the oddest, most perceptually jarring, things about the current national crisis is that everything looks the same. We are told daily by the news that we are in a stagnant economy and another horde has taken over the Middle East sandbox territory we previously liberated. It's still hard to find work, and everything is getting expensive. We are in a cataclysm, staring at the abyss of the credit crunch from hell.
The great abundance is over. The era of American Exceptionalism is a thing of the past.
Yet everything looks strangely the same. Everyone is dressed the same. Everyone looks as comfortable as they did at the height of prosperity. Everyone's smart phone is working. The Home Shopping Network runs 24/7. There are lines at the movies.
People are still walking into Walmart while juggling kids. Everyone still doesn't eat right, and diet plans abound at the cash register. Christmas decorations went up after Halloween, and Black Friday is scheduled to start on Wednesday. The Boston Bruins are still “wicked awesome.” Tom Brady can still throw touchdowns.
Much remains the same. But in the past, this was not always true.
* * *
In the Depression, people sold apples on the street. Corpse-like humans shivered in line at government warehouses. They rioted for a job, bread, a warm place to sleep. The captains of industry fought off unions with thugs, clubs, and cops on the payroll.
Many went home bloody. Many died so others could go to work in the morning.
People didn't have enough food. As many as 28 percent of the American population was out of work. The only place worth occupying was a railroad car heading somewhere other than where you were.
The excesses of the Roaring Twenties were a distant dream. And the nightmare of fascism was just beginning.
This is not the American experience today. It's as if the news is full of tornados, but we haven't felt the wind.
For the moment, I am comforted that I am not selling apples on the street.
* * *
The holidays each year provide more of the “comfort of the same.”
Like most families, mine had Thanksgiving traditions. Mom always cooked the turkey for an early dinner. The table was set with the same dishes, and the usual bantering among the children and adults would take place.
Over the years, some things changed a bit. Family members passed away. Girlfriends became fiancées. Fiancées became wives. Wives became mothers.
Yet while many things changed, the good stuff looked familiar: hugs, smiles, and sharing.
These are places from which I once was gifted the strength to spring from. So, too, our country will draw the strength from its past to spring from this era.
At our very basic and fundamental national psyche, we are still the same, despite the politics and the talking heads on the nightly news. We are a gifted and resilient people. We've been there before and survived. Of this, I am thankful.
When I travel by plane, I have a two-prayer ritual. First, I say a Hail Mary. (Yes, Mom, you raised a good Catholic.) Then I pray: “Dear God, please carry this plane safely to our destination and return us safely to those whose lives we are part of.”
May you experience in this Thanksgiving the sameness around you that always brings you comfort. And may you return safely to those whose lives you are part of.