I won’t visit the U.S. while Trump is your President
Announced a dear school friend from Europe
I’m stunned — speechless, even
It feels like a rebuke to my whole country
And me.

I start to amass facts and figures
To defend myself, my nation
Perhaps to beg
to still be worthy of visiting nonetheless
And maybe to expose his own hypocrisy

What about all the bad behavior he tolerated
Or turned a blind eye to
From government, institutions, and NGOs
When it was politically convenient
And fit his narrative?

But that’s the crux of it, isn’t it?
We each have a narrative
We want facts, events, and circumstances of our lives
To fit neatly into it.
We each have a filter system

A sieve
A lens
Through which we view Life
And try to make sense of
This Ineffable incoherence.

A filter through which
Information passes through
Like waste from the body
And is forgotten, ignored
Or gets retained and baked into our own story-cake.

We let go of what doesn’t suit us
We hold onto what gives us strength
And helps us feel right,
Emboldened
A part of something bigger than ourselves.

There are three sides to every story,
they say:
Your side
My side, and the
Truth

What do I know?
I’m just a blind person
Grasping at an elephant
Trying to make sense of this Being
I can’t see the whole of.

So I make my choices
See what I want to see
Emphasize and prioritize what fits my worldview
Weigh what is good and evil
And decide, THAT’s the way things should be.

Everyone else is doing the same.
So let me be curious about your filter system
Let me accept and respect that you have one.
I don’t have to agree with it – or judge it
For I have my own.

Maybe in that way I can learn
To love despite our differences
And not take it personally
When your absence
Hurts.