It’s Not about Hate
My sister Jennifer wonders that I hate Bill Clinton. I don’t. I don’t hate anyone. There are some fellow human beings like Billy Jeff who have squandered enormous opportunity; people like Slick Willie who have trashed a trust; unformed youth like the Boy from Hope who for his own mixed up reasons has played The Great Wastrel through decades of power. I don’t hate him; I rue the loss of what might have been.
That’s in the moments when I forget that the Larger Reality is managing the big picture. That people like Hillary’s Stool are reading from a script by the same author as was Mother Teresa and Mary Jo Kopechne. And you and I. So I don’t hate anyone. Even when I’m not feeling terribly enlightened, I don’t use the word hate; it’s too harsh. I don’t hate green peppers, but I really don’t like them in my dinner, because I was taught to clean my plate.
Hate requires too much energy. There’s a degree of righteousness in the term — an exemption from normally being decent — that allows people to think, say, or do things that they wouldn’t otherwise permit. To hold such anger tends to push a person off balance; hate self-serves dispensation to act without further thinking, and that’s rarely a good idea.
We operate on two planes in this lifetime. One when we don’t remember we’re part of a larger reality, when we think the particulars of the daily struggle are worthy of our full intention. The other is stepping back, and without knowing the bigger picture, knowing its existence, and disinvesting the undeserving minutiae of our purpose.
There’s an irony for those who don’t realize there’s something bigger out there — God, god, the cosmos, whatever. People who get too caught up in the daily grind tend to live less well and enjoy life less because they’re holding on too narrowly. Imagine how unpleasant it would be to drive gripping the wheel tightly and not allowing the normal back-’n-forth. Those folks who do know there’s somethin’ goin’ on hold "life" at a distance, and avoid the emotional snares and snarls that tend to dominate smaller minds.
When I express opprobrium in these pages, it is an attempt to illuminate what I consider a bad choice, to offer alternatives, and to restate the value of doing right. Occasionally, certainly, my nib is captured by the everyday hopes and fears, allowing for a bellow of stridency or flash of mordancy. But mostly I try to keep a cool head when all around have lost theirs. I don’t claim extraordinary rights, power, or privilege, and with only the slightest -- often imperceptible -- hesitation accept and make public a correction in fact or assessment. So rare are those moments.
I adhere to the notion that perfection is the act of perfecting. We each have our individual path. What role my words play in your life is wholly decided by you; I am simply honored that you read them.
And that’s SetonnoteS...I’m Tony Seton.