A Libertarian Boomer

“I gave up my point of view”

I’ve told a few people recently that writing this Substack is the most important thing I’ve ever done.

One of its many blessings is that I’ve been connected with a community of readers who give back, each in their own way.

This short story was a gift in the comments of 100% Scam from a Canberra mother, and it really moved me. She goes by Watersnake.

At the end of that stack I wrote:

Rudin is angry, rightly so, so am I. But we are going to need to arrive at an unforgetting forgiveness at some point.

I doubt I will be able to, or will choose to, do that with everybody. But there are people, who even while they are under the spell, I will choose to seek and discover the place that Watersnake is describing.

She gives us a clue on “how” to do it:

“I gave up my point of view”

She reminded me of something I learned many years ago; that love is a verb.

With thanks to Watersnake.

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For the first time in 2 years, my Melbourne-based multi-vaxxed son and I got together at my NSW farm. We have had some terrible moments together - esp 2021 - when I was trying to tell him about the alternatives to the jab but once he made his choice for 'following the science', we have been civil (but superficial) ever since. So it was mixed emotions as the date of his arrival drew near - what on earth would we talk about that was authentic but not incendiary? Certainly not about medical freedom topics. Or Aussie politics (he's still Green but I switched to a Freedom party). Nor US politics (he loved Fauci's handling of things) Nor Ukraine (he's a woke Marxist and I'm a Boomer libertarian).

You get the picture.

Driving the hour+ to Canberra airport to pick him up, I kept reflecting on what was truly important and it hit me when I was parking the truck - LOVE was the most important. As the mother of a 32 year old successful lawyer, I didn't need to protect him anymore - my job now was to be openheartedly present and alive in each moment with him. We may never have another chance to spend 4 days together - just the 2 of us. He could die just as easily as I could (for different reasons).

So - I gave up my point-of-view walking into the airport. Waiting at the gate, I generated spaciousness and warmth. When I saw him emerge through the gateway, I was thrilled. He looked so much older (he battled opioid and alcohol addiction during the lockdowns and has been sober for 2 years). He's been to hell and back and still came to see his old Mum.

My respect bloomed along with the love, and it was a stable, authentic place to stand for the whole 4 days. We worked hard - I had a lot of projects involving moving a tonne of rocks and 4 tonne of firewood and we sweated together, took smoko breaks, and watched the wildlife together, sat by the wood stove each night reading books together and laughed together at the antics of the chooks and rosellas stealing their food.

It was wholesome and joyful and peaceful.

When I dropped him at the airport at the end of the 4th day, he said he hadn't been giving the Canberra region a chance and that in fact, he was going home and would talk to his wife about moving here in the future.

Oh - and that they were trying for their first child.