Opposites, not opposition

Before an avid reader of this blog told me about Opposite Day I was unaware of its existence. Thank goodness for loyal readers who continue to provide grist for this bloggery.

Apparently, in some places, Opposite Day is celebrated by school children as a fun diversion. Why can’t adults celebrate it as a deep study of opposites and dichotomies? After all, isn’t seriousness the opposite of frivolity? Can we have fun being serious?

As readers of this blog know well, serious and silly belong together at takenote.ca. Now blessed with around 130 subscribers (hardly viral but a significant number nonetheless) I wonder how followers react having enjoyed a serious political piece by Robert Reich followed by something on the history of toasters. Then Juno tosses something into the mix itself a worthy riposte to American presidential election memes and stories of our little town of Summerland. My interests are eclectic for sure. And my blog topics reflect this diversity of interests. In a way, my literary interests are a gathering of opposites.

I have always admired people who can hold opposites together. I think of Dale, a onetime stewardship educator with our national Anglican church, a person who taught us how to be disciplined and faithful in our stewardship practices. While on holiday he would often visit the midway at local country fairs. On one occasion, he found a booth into which he stepped hoping to take home lots of money. A powerful fan blew paper bills into the booth. The wind was so strong it was almost impossible to catch any of the loot. If you could catch some bills, they were yours to keep. There’s something beautiful here—one can be strategic one day, and on another, not.

St. Paul is likely the greatest reconciler of opposites. Here he is, decorated religious and intellectual hero, who describes his own inner turmoil in Romans 7. I know what I need to do, and I know I don’t do it, and I am not impressed with myself that I don’t do what I know I should do, and it is not right that I don’t do it. This is all so very real, for me. “Sin”  is a theological way of embracing opposites. The challenge then is having embraced it, what to do next. I am reminded of the old spiritual song: “Please, be patient with me; God isn’t through with me yet.”

One final thought, on opposites, this from writer and poet, Barbara Kingsolver. “Empathy is really the opposite of spiritual meanness. It’s the capacity to understand that every war is both won and lost. And that someone else’s pain is as meaningful as your own.” Read Demon Copperhead to see how she unpacks that in her somewhat autobiographical fictional masterpiece.

So let’s start a movement: Embrace the opposite, your opposite. Let’s put aside opposition as a life-strategy. This is where US politics has gone so dangerously wrong. Let’s find the confidence to live into the opposite in all of us, all around us. As for opposite day, do with it as you will.