Stressed-out America
By Wade Lee Hudson

Shortly before leaving on my expedition to Alaska, I wake up with a dream that is so vivid, I write it down and interpret it. It goes:

I am arrested for criticizing an elected official I formerly supported. While detained I am questioned and brutally beaten. I refuse to answer their questions. Eventually a well-connected female Catholic co-worker bails me out. I go to a meeting of my cohort to discuss next steps. A large contingent is critical of me. It is unclear who is going to facilitate the meeting. I consider whether I should do so myself. I think about the speech I want to make. But I remain silent, calm and relaxed, waiting to see what will happen.

As I learned from the Gestalt method of dream interpretation, I ask myself if the various elements of the dream represent various aspects of myself. I quickly answer that the dream is about my tendency to beat myself up with harsh judgments prompted by concerns about what others think about me. But as the dream suggests, I'm learning to worry less about what others think, forgive myself and accept myself for who I am, and stop trying to make things happen.

Rather, I've decided to actively wait and prepare myself to better respond in the future when opportunities for action emerge, without assuming that I will play a leadership role. For one thing, given the fact that Americans are so biased against old people, co-equal collaboration with younger people is difficult.

So, for now, I’ll learn as much as I can by reading and observing, engaging in authentic dialog whenever I can, ask questions, try to better understand the people I encounter, spend more time enjoying myself, be available to talk about myself if and when others express interest, and accept it when others are not interested in anything other than superficial conversation.

My experience on the Amtrak train suggests that Americans may be even more self-obsessed – for understandable reasons – than they were 20 years ago, the last time I rode the train a considerable distance.

When one goes to the dining car, one is assigned a seat at a table with strangers. Not once did I have a  meaningful, mutual conversation. The most memorable meal included a recently laid off woman, another woman who had to sell her house and cars when her husband suddenly died and take a job as a Walgreen's manager, and a young male child care worker who talked about his troubles at work. I asked them questions to probe a bit deeper and they seemed to welcome the chance to talk. But other than one superficial question, they never asked me anything. Par for the course. But this time I shook it off quickly and moved on.

My take is that they, like many Americans, are understandably worried about their own situation and feel they don't have energy for others. I'm not sure they are right. Being more present to others might help them as a by-product. But that's not for me to judge. I certainly have often been very self-centered myself.

The Vancouver Folk Festival was incredibly soulful, with musicians from 18 countries. Sharing it with Brandon, Kristen, Azure, and Theo was a wonderful experience. I hope to write about it more here later. Music transports me into a meditative state. I need to listen to music more. Maybe this event will prompt me to do so.

But the best moment was when The Family said goodbye. Kristen told the boys, "Tell Wade bye." And Theo ran up to me, jumped on my leg, and wrapped his arms around my leg.

I may never forget that moment!