Last week I visited D.C. for the first time in many years. I went for evening walks around the capital, and felt blown away by how differently power shows up in Washington than it does in California.
Three men walked by in long black coats. They felt like GIANTS. I looked back and they were not physically that tall — I was feeling their energetic potency. This was a different flavor of power than I am used to feeling walking the streets of San Francisco. It was not creative or sexual power, mere financial power, or the wily energy of entrepreneurial power. This was political power. And it nearly bowled me over.
Across the street loomed the department of justice — this giant white monument to an ideal that has become so tragically distorted in our country.
I imagine I am not the only one who finds herself distrustful of power in American politics. The word politics itself has come to connote dishonesty, ethical compromise, playing games with status and influence. Getting things done in our political system in any meaningful way often feels impossible. Our own president is having a hell of a time getting anything meaningful done — the most powerful man in our government still has to play the games of politics in America.
Living in San Francisco, it’s easy to think that 'social entrepreneurship' is a more potent force for social change in a country where the private sector runs our political system through lobbying and campaign finance laws. But distorted as our democracy is, the reality is that legislation is still an incredibly real lever of power and change in our country. And as disenchanting and disheartening as the game of politics can be, I still have a lot of respect and appreciation for those who stay with it in a heart-felt effort to enact lasting social change.
And that includes our President. Earlier this month, Obama was interviewed by HONY. The interviewer asked him this probing question: “When is the time you felt most broken?” His answer, I hope you will agree, is food for thought, whatever your political stance, whatever your line of work:
Three men walked by in long black coats. They felt like GIANTS. I looked back and they were not physically that tall — I was feeling their energetic potency. This was a different flavor of power than I am used to feeling walking the streets of San Francisco. It was not creative or sexual power, mere financial power, or the wily energy of entrepreneurial power. This was political power. And it nearly bowled me over.
Across the street loomed the department of justice — this giant white monument to an ideal that has become so tragically distorted in our country.
I imagine I am not the only one who finds herself distrustful of power in American politics. The word politics itself has come to connote dishonesty, ethical compromise, playing games with status and influence. Getting things done in our political system in any meaningful way often feels impossible. Our own president is having a hell of a time getting anything meaningful done — the most powerful man in our government still has to play the games of politics in America.
Living in San Francisco, it’s easy to think that 'social entrepreneurship' is a more potent force for social change in a country where the private sector runs our political system through lobbying and campaign finance laws. But distorted as our democracy is, the reality is that legislation is still an incredibly real lever of power and change in our country. And as disenchanting and disheartening as the game of politics can be, I still have a lot of respect and appreciation for those who stay with it in a heart-felt effort to enact lasting social change.
And that includes our President. Earlier this month, Obama was interviewed by HONY. The interviewer asked him this probing question: “When is the time you felt most broken?” His answer, I hope you will agree, is food for thought, whatever your political stance, whatever your line of work:
“I first ran for Congress in 1999, and I got beat. I just got whooped. I had been in the state legislature for a long time, I was in the minority party, I wasn’t getting a lot done, and I was away from my family and putting a lot of strain on Michelle. Then for me to run and lose that bad, I was thinking maybe this isn’t what I was cut out to do. I was forty years old, and I’d invested a lot of time and effort into something that didn’t seem to be working. But the thing that got me through that moment, and any other time that I’ve felt stuck, is to remind myself that it’s about the work. Because if you’re worrying about yourself—if you’re thinking: ‘Am I succeeding? Am I in the right position? Am I being appreciated?’ --- then you’re going to end up feeling frustrated and stuck. But if you can keep it about the work, you’ll always have a path. There’s always something to be done.”
Whatever you call your work -- whatever lights you up, whatever impact you’re hoping to have on this tender planet -- may it inspire you beyond yourself. May your way be lit by the care of your own heart. That, my friends, is real power.