The Sting of Exclusion

Inspired by a phrase picked up while watching and listening to the inaugural events on television, I thought of how the sting of exclusion affects each one of us from time to time. The phrase was: "we've tasted the bitter pill of segregation." After turning off the inaugural events, listening now only to the sound of my dog snoring and the tapping of keys combined with my own voice and the voice of another dog barking outside, I realize one of the biggest challenges our new president faces is that of approaching boundaries with wisdom, restraint, discernment, and - most importantly - with decisive action.

I am reminded of something my mother once told me, something that stuck with her after one of the surgeons operating on my heart-diseased father told it to her. They had been discussing Dad's dire situation and what the next course of action might be. In matters of life and death, a surgeon must sometimes make a series of decisions; and one decision always comes after another one based on various factors. All of these decisions cannot be made at once; and the surgeon cannot predict what some of the decisions will be until he or she learns the outcome of the decisions that come before them. This all might sound vague and yet the point that particular surgeon made to my mother on that day had to do with the idea of one decision being only good until another decision had to be made.

Have you ever watched the show, "House"? If so, you can understand how the final outcome of the show often hinges on something not previously considered, like a tick (arachnid) or a termite, being discovered as the cause of a mysterious illness. House will come in to save the day with these discoveries, often after alienating himself from patients' families and other medical professionals. He's a crusty one but by the end of the show, he comes out smelling like a rose. At the beginning, however, many other possibilities are considered. Does the patient have cancer? Hepatitis? It is a process of elimination. A patient could literally be on the operating table about to have a procedure done, one that had been decided and agreed upon by everyone (a liver transplant, for example); then when that new information is available and it contradicts the old information (the guy doesn't actually need a new liver), a quick decision must be made to not operate and instead treat the real problem (the infection, for example). 

That is the kind of thing my father's doctor was referring to when he told my mother one decision is only good until another decision has to be made. Unfortunately, in my father's case, he ended up dying because of an infection that took over his body after (successful) neurosurgery. This was over thirty years ago and medical technology and knowledge has come a long way since then. But the point about decisions being made on an as needed basis remains valid.

Going back to the idea of exclusion, I also think of the difference between love and infatuation. I have been reading more of William Glasser (see my previous posting, Positive Addiction) and came across some text where he claims that infatuation is "the lifeblood of affairs." I can certainly see how this might seem to be true. On the other hand, what really is the difference in love and infatuation? Both make us feel good. Both give us energy. And both can be present in a relationship. Glasser himself says infatuation can turn into love, but only rarely. But I wonder about this, personally. (Isn't "love at first sight" actually a type of infatuation?)

I have veered from what I came here to talk about, which is the sting of exclusion. I felt it during the inaugural proceedings. America is a nation where secular values are supposedly honored along with religious values. During the prayers, in particular, I wondered about how people who do not share our new president's religious beliefs might have reacted to the decidedly Christian slant to the whole shebang. Now, I'm not knocking it because, on one hand, it exemplifies the freedom we do enjoy in this country. But it also might serve to alienate people who don't share those beliefs. How does the Jewish person feel, for example, hearing the Saddleback minister pray in the name of Jesus? Or, how does the atheist feel about any kind of praying being done publicly during the inauguration of our new president, a person who "belongs" to each one of us equally? The fact is, some people really don't care, and that is part of the tragedy of the sting of exclusion. We all have a right to be respected, regardless of our religious beliefs or lack of them.