Maybe: A Reflection on Trump's Re-election.
Amid today’s turmoil, a Taoist farmer’s quiet “maybe” offers profound insight. Embracing uncertainty can be our strength, guiding us through upheaval not with resignation, but with resilience and openness to change. Maybe this is the balance we need as we face the challenges ahead. Maybe.
Preface
This piece began as an attempt to process an upheaval, a way of untangling the weight of what I was feeling and finding a path forward. I started writing down my thoughts, hoping that by giving them form I might bring a measure of clarity. Let's call it filtering out the noise, shall we?
In recent conversations, I’ve seen others grappling with similar emotions, which has brought its own comfort. Knowing we’re not alone in our struggles has given me the courage to share my own reflections—another voice, perhaps, for anyone feeling the same.
Slowly, as the words settled, I shaped them into something to reflect on. I can’t say I’m at peace, but there’s a sharper honesty now, a clearer sense of what lies ahead. I hope you can find this in what ever of life's challenges are thrown your way.
Maybe: The United States or Tao?
Rambled by Dr Heckyl (Ollie) Nov 2024
There is a Taoist parable that feels especially relevant for me in these uncertain times. A poor Chinese farmer loses his horse, and his neighbours say, “that's too bad.” The farmer replies, “maybe.” The horse returns with another horse - “that's good fortune!” they say. “Maybe,” says the farmer. His son breaks his leg taming the new horse. “How terrible!” say the neighbours. “Maybe,” the farmer responds. When war comes and his injured son is spared, while others perish, they praise his fortune. Again, he simply says “maybe.”
These simple utterances of “maybe” weave themselves into the tapestry of life, especially when reflecting on Trump’s re-election. Fear, anger, sadness—they all compete for attention, but what is the use? There’s perhaps wisdom in stepping back, breathing, and acknowledging that “maybe” is the closest thing we have to foresight... Maybe.
There lies a peculiar power in witnessing a country that can act independently, often disregarding the global chorus that echoes disapproval. America's seemingly boundless authority affects lives far beyond its borders. Did we unintentionally hand over too much power, hoping to be saved from ourselves? This is not just a chapter from a war-wise history book but a living entity dictating how we engage with an uncertain global future. Trump's erraticism pushes a button on this global remote control, not for what he has done, but rather for the potential chaos he could still unleash. It is not even the known actions that unsettle, but the dark imaginings of worse lingering just beyond the horizon that will ensue... Maybe.
There is a sense of unfairness haunting this tableau. World leaders like Trump, Putin, and Netanyahu wield disproportionate clout, their decisions like ripples in a global pond. The potential devastation for nations like Ukraine exemplifies the peril of appeasing autocratic ambitions, agitating those of us already wary of appeasement. It feels unjust, yet here we are. Is fairness ever truly attainable when the entire concept seems constructed on arbitrary human perspectives? But perhaps this obvious power imbalance will finally motivate other nations to step up and take greater responsibility for global stability... Maybe.
What is particularly troubling is how this presidency seems to validate a leadership style built on division and disrespect. When someone who openly flouts basic human decency can repeatedly reach the highest office, it sends a powerful message about what society will tolerate. Claims of democracy provide little solace when the options presented do not resonate with the collective aspiration towards progressive leadership. Thus, the return of Trump to power is, for many, a fundamental disheartenment. Behind him looms JD Vance, his prospective successor, ushering in a future potentially fraught with deeper divisions... Maybe.
America's electoral system adds another curious wrinkle where power does not necessarily stem from popular support. The constitution, revered yet outdated, permits this perplexity, calling into question the very foundations of democracy. Yet we must question our own reactions. For those fortunate enough to live in stable democracies, it is easy to view politics through a lens of moral absolutes. But many Trump supporters are responding to real concerns - economic anxiety, cultural change, feeling left behind by globalization. Understanding this does not require agreeing with their choice, but it helps maintain our humanity amid political divisions... Maybe.
The support Trump garners often feels like a counterintuitive embrace of divisive rhetoric over respectful discourse. Such leadership styles, flourishing under his administration, present a grim reflection of societal tolerance towards degradation of public integrity. But this is a view not held by all. While some cry, others cheer. Could we fault ourselves for this? I ponder my own complicity and whether understanding the voter landscape alleviates the discomfort. Knowing that I am but a product of my experiences, wouldn't an alternative upbringing yield a different reaction?... Maybe.
There is a particular sting in watching someone facing multiple criminal indictments potentially lead the nation. It challenges fundamental beliefs about justice and accountability. But maybe this stark exposure of systemic flaws will finally force meaningful reform. Maybe the very absurdity of the situation will be what finally breaks through normalized corruption. The emotional impact is undeniable. Watching someone who seems to embody the opposite of one's core values achieve such power naturally triggers strong reactions. But perhaps there's growth in sitting with this discomfort, examining our own biases and assumptions, and finding ways to channel concern into constructive action... Maybe.
Here lies a crucial crossroads: embrace despair or find a more constructive path forward. “Maybe” offers not an end but a beginning—a choice to remain open to unforeseen possibilities that disrupt the norms. Looking ahead, the challenge is not just surviving four years, but preventing the normalization of behaviour that undermines democratic values. This requires walking a fine line - remaining vigilant without succumbing to constant outrage, understanding different perspectives without accepting the unacceptable. Yet even this dark cloud might have a silver lining - perhaps it will spark a renewed global commitment to democratic values, not through American leadership, but through collective responsibility... Maybe.
The fatigue is real. Maintaining constant vigilance against democratic erosion is exhausting. Yet perhaps there's wisdom in pacing ourselves, choosing battles thoughtfully, finding joy and meaning alongside political engagement. Democracy is not defended through perpetual outrage but through sustained, strategic action. Understanding others' perspectives matters, but does it require abandoning core values? Can we recognize the economic pain driving many Trump supporters while still opposing policies that harm vulnerable communities? Can we acknowledge the appeal of strong leadership while rejecting authoritarian tendencies?... Maybe.
The hardest truth might be accepting that some things are beyond our control. Individual actions matter, but larger forces - historical, economic, social - shape events in ways we cannot fully grasp. Finding peace means balancing engaged citizenship with humble recognition of our limitations. Personal vulnerability in these times is not weakness - it is a sign of being awake to what is at stake. The anxiety many feel isn't paranoia but a natural response to genuine threats to democratic institutions. Yet this sensitivity must be balanced with resilience. Like the farmer in the parable, we can acknowledge challenges without being consumed by them... Maybe.
The question of legacy weighs heavily. How will future generations judge this moment? Will they understand our fears, our choices, our attempts to navigate unprecedented challenges? More importantly, what tools and wisdom can we pass on to help them build something better? Looking beyond immediate political battles, deeper questions emerge about human nature and society. Why do some find comfort in authoritarian leadership? How do democracies balance individual rights with collective welfare? As we navigate the years ahead, perhaps the most valuable lesson from the farmer's tale is not just about accepting uncertainty. It is about maintaining equilibrium while engaging with reality. It is about finding the balance between fighting for what matters and accepting what we cannot change. It is about remembering that even in dark times, possibility remains... Maybe.
There is a certain irony in seeking wisdom from an ancient Chinese farmer while grappling with modern American politics. Yet perhaps this speaks to universal human experiences - uncertainty, fear, hope, the search for meaning amid chaos. His “maybe” is not passive acceptance but active engagement with life's complexity. The path forward is not clear, but clarity is not always necessary for meaningful action. What matters is continuing to show up, to engage thoughtfully, to build community, to defend democratic values - not because success is guaranteed, but because the effort itself gives meaning and hope. Maybe that is enough. Maybe that is everything... Maybe.
Despair is tempting but ultimately unproductive. Like the Chinese farmer's “maybe,” there's wisdom in remaining open to unexpected possibilities while taking thoughtful action. Maybe this presidency will galvanize democratic reform. Maybe it will inspire a new generation of ethical leaders. Maybe it will force necessary conversations about the nature of power and leadership... Maybe.
And so, like the farmer watching his fortunes rise and fall, we move forward into uncertainty. Not with blind optimism or crushing despair, but with clear-eyed determination and an open heart. Maybe this is our generation's great challenge. Maybe this is our opportunity to prove what democracy means. Maybe. Just Maybe.
If you need to reflect on anything in your life, or have a new perspective to offer, we would love to hear from you via email at [email protected], or by reaching out at The Filtration Station Discord server.
A Quick Update: Shifting Perspectives
After I shared my thoughts on uncertainty and resilience, a friend sent me this image, reminding me that sometimes moving on can be as simple as shifting our perspective.
It’s a humorous yet profound take on how we handle life’s ups and downs. We can choose to see that "nobody gives a sh*t" in either a disheartening or liberating way. The second choice offers a sort of freedom, a reminder that we're not the centre of everyone’s universe, so why not live life with a little more lightness?
Sometimes, letting go doesn’t mean waiting for the stars to align or finding the perfect balance—it can be as simple as realising that the world keeps turning whether or not we get it all right. It's a kind of freedom that lets us focus on what matters to us, without worrying so much about external expectations.
I think this perfectly complements the idea of acceptance from the Taoist parable. After all, embracing uncertainty can sometimes mean learning to laugh at it.
The image was sourced from the article by Mark Manson who explores similar thoughts on shifting perspectives to life—well worth a read: