A big question for me over the last few days (as well as ‘REALLY??’) has been: how to respond? Not just at the collective level of action but personally; emotionally. I’ve heard and read many ventings and views, and each has slightly moderated my emotional state and my comprehension of facts. I’ve no doubt this is true for lots of us, impacting and affecting each other as we work out our individual and collective, evolving response to the Leave vote.
I’ve seen awesome posts from people who have surprised me with unanticipated wisdom, eloquence and leadership. And others, some of my usual ‘go to’ sources of wisdom, have been quiet – at least on Facebook, at least for now – no doubt for very good reasons of their own.
Posters have used versions of the psychological change curve (Shock, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance, Rebuilding), sometimes explicitly and sometimes not, to describe where they’re at in processing the immense Leave news and the jolting chunks of fallout. I personally have flipped round the Curve several times as the Leave story unfolds; right now I’m in a place of creative response. All of us have journeyed through and around this curve in their own unique way.
I’ve directly experienced love and commiseration from Leavers, and anger from Remainers, as we work through what all of this means for friendships, family and community. I’ve felt humility, surprise, anxiety, gratitude, concern and love each day as the collective discussion continues.
In this discourse, our differences are manifest. Not just our Remain/Leave differences, but our ways of responding, our ways of communicating. That’s natural, as we are all unique; all innately and adaptively different.
Harmony seekers are calling for love and tolerance. Warrior spirits are calling angrily for fight. Some seek and envisage good outcomes; others tend to the worst that could happen, alerting everyone else to the darkest dangers. Hearts are grieving for tattered values and precarious relationships; heads are pointing out flaws in the procedure. Those seeking closure are imploring the nation to accept (or reject) and move on; those who want to keep possibilities open are seeking ways to evolve the outcome, transform it into something new. Those who naturally see the immediate are considering the personal impact on them; those drawn to the bigger picture are mulling concepts such as the trajectory of the human race.
Complex as we are, our personalities cannot but colour and flavour what we bring to the round table of discourse. In such a shocking situation we tend to revert strongly to type. Think Princess Diana, only on a different scale, because we are all directly affected and so we all care (although I have seen a couple of people laugh, shrug, and say they don’t do politics).
In this week of heightened emotions, many of us (myself included) have been judging or criticising others’ natural patterns , or the pace of others’ journeys along and around the Change Curve (how can they be feeling that already? Or, why are they stuck there?) It’s another symptom of our distress, but one which adds – perhaps unnecessarily – to what is already a difficult and turbulent time.
If we are to emerge from such a seismic national shockwave in a positive, constructive way, it seems to me that we’d do well to acknowledge and respect everyone’s unique way of dealing with it, even as we continue to disagree about what’s happened, and debate what happens next.
We are diverse for a reason. In diversity lies great strength and resilience. All our responses, our rich and varied personalities, are not only inevitable but essential. We need to not just accept each other’s differences but to recognise them as gifts: actively use our rich mix of glorious quirkiness and broad offerings to build and shape the best collective response we can to such a bewildering mess.
If we can unite rather than divide over this challenge to society, we stand a chance of emerging into a positive future with some hope for this country, humanity and all of Life on Earth. Call me an optimist…