As this election ends, this question seems to be on a lot of people's minds. I wanted to wait a few days before saying something to see how people have been reacting.
On one hand, I am inspired by the emotional tact that people have been sharing. Hugs for each other regardless of how we voted. This was a rough time, and people are recognizing it as such. We're all pretty tired, and most of the people I've encountered have been able to see this emotional exhaustion in others and empathize.
Still, there is rioting, anger, and calls for unification in a divided climate. People are mad, and people were going to get mad regardless of how the election turned out. And the rhetoric has still continued out of the election, rhetoric that both sides hold to be (at least in part) true. Crybaby liberals and racist conservatives. Hm, maybe I can be a bit nicer here. Electoral college reform liberals and enabling conservatives.
Yeah, those titles really don't make it any easier. But it helps me to realize something. We're not really treating each other as if we're friends. We're treating each other like we are enemies. And how can we be friends with our enemies?
I don't know if we can. We certainly can't if our idea of a friend is someone who either deeply agrees with everything we have to say or someone who disagrees quietly and respectfully. And good riddance to that type of friendship. People who can only be friends with those who have the same views and values as them are ultimately self-idolizing, limited, pseudo-narcissists incapable of deep love for anyone outside of themselves. They circumnavigate the difficulty of reaching out to love another by dragging the other into themselves and then continuing to love only themselves.
And yes, both parties do this. Don't kid yourself into thinking your party is the selfless one. Once that distinction has been made, this masturbatory self-love continues blind and unchecked.
Thankfully, people are complex, and the closer we get to someone the sooner we will realize that "Oh shit, they're not like me at all." And good fucking luck dealing with this moment when all you have to fall back on is confusing intimacy with "Well, I'm friendly and mostly like everyone I meet".
The bad news is that several of us are realizing that there are a good deal of people in our lives who we do not actually consider to be our friends, we've just been friendly with them. The good news is that now the mask has been peeled back a bit and we have the opportunity to move forward. The best news is that it'll hurt and it will likely be worthwhile.
Intimacy cannot exist without pain, and there is a lot of pain going around. In my not-so-humble experience, the only time I have become friends with my enemies is when we are able to recognize the pain in each other. To see each other as two people who are hurt and hurting. I wish I could say some positive psychology statement here and say that I've been drawn to people by seeing their strength, and yes that is attractive, but strength does not beget vulnerability. Sharing in suffering does.
This is why I need to listen to my church when it tells me both to love my enemies, to rejoice with those who rejoice, and mourn with those who mourn. These are intrinsically connected. I cannot love, rejoice, and mourn with people different from me if I try to silence them or assume that they are just like me. I need to understand them, and I need to understand how they see me. And, yes, that hurts.
To be fair, it's also two-ways. The complaint of "They aren't trying to understand me though!" is a valid rephrasing of a concern that love will not be reciprocated. It might not be, and, tragically, often isn't reciprocated in the ways we want to receive it.
So ask yourself (and I'll ask myself), do you want to be friends again, or just friendly? Time, patience, and good socialization will give you the latter, but pain, intimacy, and vulnerability will give you the former. Good luck deciding, and pray for me, a sinner.
