Outrage vs. Inspiration

The other night, after watching the news, I had a nightmare about Trump winning the election. In it, I was with my family at a diner. Above the counter was a small, crackly black-and-white T.V. with a warning of armed militias, but true to nightmare form, we Hurwitzes were sticking around, waiting for our sandwiches. 

I was jittery all morning, wondering if this could be a foretelling. Was Trump destined to win? Might there be a rounding up of my kith and kin? My wise friend Linda suggested the nightmare might have been a clearing out, my subconscious exorcising the pervasive global anxiety. My wise friend Pamela said she’d read that while outrage was one of the most powerful motivators human beings have, inspiration was even more potent.

I was reassured. By afternoon, after talking to some number of my children, all doing well, I saw the point in making dinner. That’s inspiration for you; mighty but modest. Raison d'être.

When the bad guys take a victory lap, outrage feels vital, but it’s easy to get sucked through righteous anger into despair, and evidently, my subconscious plays into the vortex. It’s a toxic combination. I needed the sage advice of friends I trust, the hopeful steadiness of my family, to remind me that inspiration is an ongoing practice, stubborn, mostly unreasonable, but always, always necessary.