On Convergence: Political Turbulence & the Process of Coming Together
What if American polarization is being caused, not by a great splitting apart, but by a great coming together?
Over the last few years, there is a message I have heard echoed across separate corners of the States. I have heard it from conservative Christian farmers giving food to the poor and from progressive activists defending human rights.
From Californians and Floridians. From Midwesterners, Southerns and Northeasterners.
I have heard it when everyday Americans look at economic inequality, climate change, social issues, gun violence, the invasion of Ukraine, and the delicacy of our democracy.
The message is: We have to take care of each other.
We all say it. With a shudder or a far-off look. With our heads hung low or turned to the sky. With resolve or with heartache. Or both. We have to, we say again.
What if we are not as far away from each other as we think we are?
What if we are not as polarized as we perceive?
What if the fight feels so hard right now, not because we are splitting apart from one another…
…but because we are finally seeing one another up close?
Could it be that close proximity is what’s making our differences seem so extra damn large?
What if we have, each of us, been walking for a very long time from separate and very far away corners on paths that have been winding their ways to a meeting place?
To a point of convergence.
Simply defined, convergence is when two or more things come together. For instance, this year (2023), Ramadan, Passover and Easter converged around the same time of year: early spring in the northern hemisphere.
Sometimes convergence causes a new whole, a new union, or a new unity. For instance, Spanglish is a convergence that blends, twists, turns and alternates between English and Spanish.
The poetry of convergence writes itself.
This phenomena is happening all around us — in astronomy and art form, in geology, cultures and ecologies. On and on, convergence goes producing new creations, mirrors, movements, and resonances out of meeting places.
Before we romanticize this Life dynamic, though, let us note one other truth about it:
Convergence can bring turbulence.
The convergence of weather patterns into storms is marked with bumpiness. Rivers into single channels with tumult. Tectonic plates into new land masses with quakes.
Point being, we should not expect seamlessness in a great coming together of people who have been traveling from different corners and traversing different terrains.
We are also not doomed to constant turbulence, eternal tumult, or endless confusion….
…if we are willing to meet each other in a way that is not pure force against pure force.
The challenge then is how can we meet each other without being forza contro forza? What other, more beneficial, ways can we enter and engage this convergence zone?
Perhaps the wise Hindu parable of the Blind Men and the Elephant can aid us.
In case you don’t have time for the sweet 4-minute telling below, here’s the gist from the Wiki:
“The parable of the blind men and an elephant is a story of a group of blind men who have never come across an elephant before and who learn and imagine what the elephant is like by touching it.
Each blind man feels a different part of the elephant’s body, but only one part, such as the side or the tusk. They then describe the elephant based on their limited experience and their descriptions of the elephant are different from each other. In some versions, they come to suspect that the other person is dishonest and they come to blows.
The moral of the parable is that humans have a tendency to claim absolute truth based on their limited, subjective experience as they ignore other people’s limited, subjective experiences which may be equally true.”
When the blind men insist their personal viewpoints are the full, total and only truth of the elephant, they operate as pure forces pushing against other pure forces.
They create turbulence, they fight, they suspect one another, they dig into their positions. In other words…
…They polarize.
Only later in the story is their way of relating to one another reset when the raja (the king) breaks up the fighting and suggests that each has only touched a part of the elephant.
He tells the men that they must work together to figure out how the pieces fit if they are to understand the nature of the elephant. Then, still irritated by their squabbling, the raja leaves them to it.
Let’s imagine they, now humbled, try to hold such a conversation:
“Tell me what you know about the nature of the elephant, my friends,” the first says to the others.
“To me, the elephant was smooth, wide and great. His nature was like that of a wall,” replies the second who had felt the elephant’s great belly.
“How strange,” adds the third who felt the elephant’s tusk, “to me, he was as pointed as a spear.
“Odd still,” the fourth who felt the elephant’s trunk chimes in, “to me, the elephant was like a giant snake.”
“And to me, the elephant was like a fan,” responds the first who had felt the ear.
They paused to consider how all of this could be.
Finally one suggests to the others, “So these are all parts of the same elephant. A wall, a spear, a snake and a fan. The elephant must be very large to be all these things at once, wouldn’t you say?”
The others ponder this and notice that everything each person has said fits neatly into such a theory.
Then they say, “Ah yes, this just may be. There is much still to understand, but for now let’s rest. Tomorrow we can return to figure out more about the elephant who we now know is very large…. ”
What if we in the States approach our collective problems in just such a way?
“Tell me what you see, my friends,” says the progressive activist defending human rights.
“There are not enough jobs and our community is suffering,” replies the conservative Christian farmer giving food away to the poor.
“Our democracy is too fragile and both parties have corruption in them,” adds an independent voter.
“Over here, the middle class is going backward,” a 30-something renter chimes in.
“My community has been left out of going forward since before I was born,” responds the activist.
They pause to consider how all of this -a lack of jobs, a fragile democracy, a sinking middle class, and a community left out- could be.
Finally one suggests to the others, “It seems we are all in trouble, big trouble. Perhaps these are not different problems but different parts to the same problem…”
The others ponder this and notice that everything each person has said fits neatly into such a theory.
Then they respond, “Ah, yes, this just may be. There is still much to understand, but for a moment let’s rest. Tomorrow we can return to figure out more about our trouble, which we now know is shared and quite large…”
As they go to rest, someone has a realization and says, “This may take some time to understand, what can we do for now in the meantime?”
“We could take care of each other,” another person suggests.
Everyone ponders this second suggestion and notices it fits neatly as a first step.
One by one, they respond….
“Yes, we have to take care of each other,” says the conservative Christian farmer from their corner of this great convergence zone.
“Yes, we have to,” agrees the progressive activist from their corner.
“Yes, we have to,” add the independent and the renter from theirs.
“Yes, we have to,” continue the Californian and the Floridian….and the Midwestern, the Southern and the Northeastern….
One by one, we respond, and on and on it goes… around the many corners of the United States, the great convergence zone we call home.
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