Lianne Thompson

Did you watch the Super Bowl? Did you catch Bruce Springsteen’s commercial? He spoke about the heartland, the middle of America, geographically, politically, and emotionally — and living from our hearts, emotionally, in what we could call “a community of good neighbors.”

We’re still living together in challenging times, but the Boss has said something worthwhile to guide us, as he’s often done over the years. “Look for the middle, with some humility, grace, and kindness. Be kind to each other.” At least that’s what I heard him say.

Maybe that’s because I’m getting frayed around the edges, tired of the strains and constraints of COVID-19 and life in the 21st century on planet earth. One thing about this pandemic: as it goes on and on, it’s relentless and confusing and frustrating.

There are moments of good cheer and hope, acts of kindness, joy gained in focusing on what nourishes and sustains our goodness. And then there are the other kinds of moments.

I see my job as a Clatsop County commissioner to be one of leading us through changes and the challenges we’re facing. Leading through change requires channeling a vision and listening to how changes impact people. Lots of listening is required: “What’s in it for me?” is their question, because everyone wants to know that they’re seen and heard and loved, and that they matter — because we all need to matter.

Being a leader means that I spend lots of time listening to people tell me their hopes and fears, sharing their best and worst. If I don’t open my heart to them, care about what matters to them, and listen to their ideas and emotions, how can I do a good job? So I open my heart and listen.

Sometimes it’s almost unbearably painful to perceive the fear and anger, the righteous indignation, armored and aggressive. Ouch, ouch, and ouch.

Sometimes I’m reminded of the fragility and unpredictability of life, as when the phone call or email or Internet post tells me someone else is sick or dead. Sometimes, the beauty and joy of a sweet human connection brings me to smiles or tears.

Sometimes small acts of kindness like a stranger’s eyes crinkling in a smile behind a face mask while I grocery shop touch me more than I’d expect. “Thank you for your smile,” I say, “I needed that today.” “You’re welcome,” she says. A piece of beauty in life’s mosaic.

We’re communicating a lot to each other, given our many avenues. Are we kinder, more generous? Or are we snarky? The answer is probably, “Sometimes one, sometimes the other,” at least for me.

The chatter I’ve been noticing is about who’s welcome in our neighborhood and who’s not, who’s entitled to set a boundary and declare they’re the boss over somebody else.

In a public or private organization, there’s concepts like “scope of authority” and “chain of command.” In day-to-day human interactions, we sometimes make up our own scope of authority and see no chain of command except our own sense that we’re entitled to command and control another person’s words, actions, thoughts, or feelings.

That’s a short trip down a hard road.

Negotiating boundaries in relationships takes confidence. If we don’t trust ourselves to be able to communicate by listening to another and honoring them and ourselves, we resort to quick and easy violence.

That violence doesn’t always involve mobs or guns. Sometimes it’s done through lawyers. Sometimes it’s done through signage. Sometimes it’s done through emails, phone calls, or one on one communication.

However communication happens, we have a choice. If we can trust ourselves to be capable and loving human beings, we can nourish our well-being through goodness and kindness to one another instead of warfare. Or not.

If not, we’re eating poison. Let’s eat kindness and joy; it’s a healthier diet.

Lianne Thompson is Clatsop County Commissioner, District 5.