one man left, leaving just me and another. i smiled politely and said hello. i started walking away, when he asked me. "did you hear about it?"
of course i heard about it. of course i got the e-mail. of course i've been worrying about it since last night, i wanted to tell him. instead, i murmured "uh-huh." i tried to walk away, to retreat back into my little office nook where i could hold my mustard seed necklace, read a psalm and let the morning sunshine pour past the window pane and into my weary spirit. but he kept on.
"are you worried? what do you think? i've been watching the news and..."
he proceeded with a re-cap of the pending government shutdown. the indecisiveness. the right-wing, left-wing, he-said, she-said debate. the effects on our company. the preventative measures being taken. the midnight deadline that felt ages away. he walked away slowly, with an air of defeat.
i watched my co-workers on friday. when faced with an angry circumstance, true colors are shown. i watched for the hurt. i watched for hate, disgust and blame to be thrown.
i didn't see any of it. because like i've said before on this blog, i believe in people. and call it blind optimism, but i also believe in their goodness. and in their ability to cope and be okay. on friday, i saw people consoling, encouraging. i heard "it's all going to be okay" more than once. i said it myself, to girls in my office who were new. and scared.
and it worked out. the government struck a deal and nothing shut down. and i'm not political, and can't even tell you all the details, but i can tell you this: in a crisis, or in this case, the threat of a crisis, there might be a tendency toward animosity, resentment, and outrage. but in the midst of the rubble is a chance to come together. to unite and create a combined energy. and against such a beautiful force, no disaster can stand for long.