Never Assume

A freelance client unexpectedly sent me to Washington, DC again. It was a whirlwind trip. It was short notice and I had to make it fast to balance the work of another project. The meeting I was to attend began at 8:30am, so I had to get to DC the night before.

I took a cab to the hotel because my train didn't arrive at Union Station until 11:30pm. When the cab pulled up to the hotel around midnight, there were about 20 police cars parked in front of the entrance.

I immediately wondered whether some horrible thing had happened at the hotel. I couldn't imagine what would trigger such a huge police response.

The second I walked in the door, my mind was put to ease.

The hotel was hosting a police officers' convention.

Reacquainted

It appears that I suffer from a strange amnesia. I seem to have the same revelations over and over. It astonishes me that I can forget a revelation.

It is a shame, because these insights should be instructive. I should build on them to improve my life.

This week I was in Washington, DC doing a freelance project for a client I had a decade ago. I haven't worked in public policy since 1999. It was strange instance of deja vu to be riding the Metro and visiting Congressional offices.

I was reintroduced to people I worked with while lobbying. We haven't met in ten years, and an unacknowledged assessment of our alterations accompanied each of our greetings.

The things I recall are also strange. While walking in the basement of the Dirksen building I remembered that there was a crummy cafe in the area that had a wonderful veggie burger.

Of course, some things have changed. The staffers seem impossibly young to me now. Security has made access to buildings more difficult.

The gift from this experience is that hard-gained knowledge was submerged rather than erased. While holding discussions with Congressional staffers and my peers, long forgotten points of food safety policy emerged.

The insight I want to recall is that the work of the past always informs the present. The conventional view is that the events of the past are dead. I finally threw away all of my records related to public policy work in August 2008. Now I find myself unexpectedly engaged in it again.

I retain easily the notion that negative past events can haunt a person at any time, but it somehow surprises me to realize that neutral or positive past experiences can influence one's life years later.

I tend to underestimate my power, skills, and resources. What I hope to recall in the future is that my experiences live within me and can be tapped at any time.

The Difference a Day Makes

I am up late at night worrying about what I will do when I am laid off. What should I do next? Where will I live? When should I give up and move out of New York? It isn't an exaggeration to say I am terrified about my economic prospects.

The country is in an awful mess. My office had another 10% staff reduction a couple of weeks ago, and I suspect the lay offs will continue. The whole publishing industry is dying, so there are practically no job prospects for unemployed publishing professionals.

It is bizarre that under such circumstances, I am stirred by an event that doesn't effect me directly.

I was not an Obama supporter. I backed Hillary because, as a former Washington lobbyist, I knew she was a brilliant politician and I thought he was too inexperienced to be an effective president.

Yet, I could hardly focus on anything but the inauguration today. If I began to even ponder the transition that would take place, I got teary.

The whole office stopped to watch the proceedings on television. I felt foolish bringing a tissue with me to the lobby, and then watched half of my colleagues cry openly and share a big box of tissues.

I couldn't understand what was making me feel so emotional.

Seeing an African-American assume the presidency proves profound changes can happen in the U.S. Seeing an unapologetic liberal garner so much support leads me to believe things will get better. If McCain had won, I assume he would continue the horrid policies that led to this crisis. I would have no hope for recovery.

The expression on George W. Bush's face as he walked through the Capital crypt told a story I was eager to see come to fruition. In the past he had proudly claimed that he did not reflect on or feel regret for his actions. I found this boast deeply disturbing because it shut out hope that he would recognize the harm he caused or feel remorse for it.

As Bush moved toward the inaugural platform, he wore the expression of someone who had come to a dark realization. It appears that during the inauguration he finally realized how much people despise him, his policies, and his effect on the country.

I didn't hear it when I watched the ceremony, but I read in newspaper coverage that the crowd of two million people were loudly booing and hissing as he and Chaney stepped onto the platform. A moment later, the record-breaking large crowd was chanting "O-bam-a" as the president-elect entered the stage.

You could tell by the look on Bush's face that he was bracing under the rebuke. He is a man who prides himself on being liked, and he was just dissed by two million people in one of the most watched live events aired on media outlets around the world.

What is at issue isn't simply the rebuke of a person. It is the wholesale repudiation of his philosophy and policies. For eight years he and his ideological brethren have had free reign to test their ideas -- deregulation, markets managing themselves, trickle down economics, hawkish aggression, indulgence of short-sided gains -- and they have brought this country near to ruination.

It took a while to figure it out, but I realized the source of my tears was profound relief.