The Lost Art of Conversation on the Campaign Trail

Running for Governor, I find myself in three or four events a day, and have been for 15 months. In these events, the endangered species is found, nurtured, and promoted - “conversation.” Last week, speaking with addiction experts, we nurtured the species.

If you were to ask the average voter why “conversation,” the type we used to have every day, one person talks and the other listens, then other way round, is so rare … you would hear common themes.

“We are so polarized,” “no one is listening,” “they are all brainwashed,” “minds are closed,” and no one wants to learn any more, pursuit of truth is being replaced by preoccupation with winning, hating, venting, and politics.

All this may be true, but there is more. Things might be simpler. Sometimes the obvious is missed… What causes short-temperedness, or the stumbling tendency to dismiss others, up-value our life experience and down-value others, not to listen?

It might be a shared affliction. It might be collective trauma, pace of life too fast, need for validation urgent, fear of uncertainty what we wake to, frustration the common currency, causing reactions that flood the zone, all to no good effect.

It might be that, as we struggle to manage paying bills and acquiring necessities, food, fuel, clothes, and a home, we are preoccupied by surprises, forgetting everyone is facing unpleasant surprises, we theirs, even as they are ours.

Sometimes, the answer to sit down and think about the world, options, where we want to be, not worry, just map how to get there, put one foot before the other.

When running for governor, like anything else, you encounter the sensible and senseless, hopeful and hardworking, or critical and unhappy, people in search of a villain to blame for their lot and people, and people showing responsibility, can-do.

You meet those who want change now, are willing to work for it, and those who dwell and fails to see what ails them, who do not consider the source, or solutions.

If you step back – and I did today – you regain perspective. Anyone can. Many of us do when we remember to reapproach things in an optimistic, hopeful way, see the forest for the trees, goals and how to get to the far horizon, just slow down.

So, let me ask you: What is that missing quality that gets us restocked, resets the clock, slows things down – and how exactly do we restock it?

To my way of thinking, the missing quality is patience. I get impatient, and it helps no one. I try hard to have it for others but also for myself, somehow to listen better, seek uncertainty to test my ability to absorb it, slow down deliberately, no phone.

Now the million-dollar question:  How do you do that, restock patience? For some, yoga, music, walking, maybe reading fiction, cooking, doing a puzzle, art, a workout, all allowing the brain to steer away from the frenzy, just rest and retool.

All these things restore peace and patience, which in turn nurtures constructive conversations. All of these help the endangered species – conversation – thrive.

What did I do? Picked blueberries. You cannot speed that process up, cannot give it to AI or ChatGPT. You cannot gain by speed, and speed is not the real purpose, just best use of the moment. You cannot force bushes to drop more fruit into your hand more than a berry at a time, must hold them not too tightly or loosely, must go with the flow, enjoy the breeze, like counting pennies, telling a story, no worry.

Bottom line: Running for Governor, I find myself in many events a day, and have been for 15 months. I love it, nurturing the endangered species, conversation. We can all do that. To restock peace and patience, picking blueberries did it for me.