One of my favorite jobs as an auntie is the repair of favorite stuffed animals. I take out my sewing box and some spare fabric matched to the nose of the beloved animal and mend the holes. Sew on new eyes, restitch whiskers, fix worn off paws. I love that a small, quiet action can restore a beloved object—not because it creates perfection, but because with kind attention something beloved is able to continue its crucial purpose.

Repair is a way of honoring something that has endured hard use. It is a way to be kind without a lot of words. It is a way to love something as much as someone else loves it.

This week there are going to be a lot of people talking about who did what to whom, and whose fault it was. There are going to be a thousand conversations of blame, hot takes and conspiracies. These conversations will sell newspapers and get ratings on TV. They will give people a chance to take a swing at the other side, but none of these conversations will help us mend or repair our country.

I write a lot about trauma and healing from trauma, and I am not even talking about healing right now. I am not talking about the very big rifts and the horrible injustices. We are a long way off from healing. We need stabilization. We need repair. We need to even remember what the word ‘we’ means. We the people. We need to repair that space between Us and Them so that we can live our way even into the first sentence of the preamble. There is no ‘they’ in the constitution—in no small part because of the repair that has been built into the constitution through the amendments.

John Lederach, in his writings on peacebuilding, states that all peace movements began with a single conversation. And I see this notion of conversation more broadly. A conversation between you and your values. A conversation of actions. Repair is not an idea. Repair is an action. All repair begins with a single kind act. A single kind intentional act.

Instead of spending time this week watching television or scrolling through social media-- do something kind. If you’re exhausted and stressed—do something kind for yourself. Take a time out. Connect with a friend. Eat your favorite food. Listen to your favorite music.

If you have the bandwidth to give to others—do something kind for someone else. Bring food to a food pantry. Compliment the person in front of you in line. Ask your neighbor if they need help with something. Sweep the sidewalk in front of your house. Pick up trash on your next walk in the woods. Offer to walk someone’s dog. Send a note of thanks to someone. Call an old friend. Pick up donuts for the office. Cut flowers from your garden and share them. Have your kids make drawings and give them to a librarian or an ambulance driver or a nurse. Say hello. Wait for the hello back. Smile. One simple act. One small stitch of mending.

We need to attend to what Lincoln called ‘the bonds of affection’ that connect us a a nation so that they don’t break—we need to mend that space between Us and Them—so that these bonds, like all things that are mended—can grow stronger.

©2024 Gretchen L. Schmelzer, PhD

Lincoln’s First Inaugural Address