I typically stay out of the morass of political discourse. While I do vote in every election, and have served and will continue to serve as an election judge, I believe politics makes for dull conversation and even duller reading.

Politicians on either side of the aisle tend to use the power of sesquipedalian speeches and lofty ideals to obfuscate their agenda from the eyes of wary citizens. In other words, they use those big, fancy words and vague references to party platforms to hide their true intentions. Certainly not all people running for office are politicians, but all politicians eventually run for office.

The problem with hiding behind obscure words and ideologies is that they tend to alienate the average Joe, such as myself. I don’t really care about party platforms and big words. What I do care about is how things will affect my life, and the lives of my kids. Beyond that, party politics mean little to me.

Recently, a campaigning politician referred to environmentalist extremists, who value rocks and sage chickens just as much humans. His comment to those folks, to us folks, was that sage chicken is tasty.

Well, yes it is. Unfortunately, politicians and many other people look down on so called environmentalists without understanding what caring about the environment actually means. It doesn’t necessarily mean that one values one thing over another. Instead, I see value in all things. Caring about the environment doesn’t necessarily make one an extremist, either.

In a philosophical sense, rocks, sage and people serve different but equally important functions in the vast macrocosm of our lives. Of course, humans have opposable thumbs and are therefore superior. When it comes to doing things that you can only do with thumbs, then yes, I suppose it is true. But what about all the other things, that thumbs don’t help with? In those cases, then perhaps we aren’t so superior after all.

Unfortunately, we lose sight of the importance of things when we become too focused on ourselves, and that, I believe is the greatest shortcoming of politicians.

They focus on themselves, their message, and their agenda. They lose sight of the common folk, who are trying to survive.

We just want to enjoy life, pay our bills and live a decent life. At the end, we want to look back, with some satisfaction, that we left the world a better place for those who come after us. And sometimes, we might like to hike in the sagebrush, enjoying the wonder of the world around us. While sage grouse and stones might not serve an obvious purpose, our hike might be less interesting without their grounding presence.

Of course, the only folk the politicians pay heed to are the ones who vote. And more specifically, the ones who vote, and who also have money. To narrow it down further, they really care about the people who fund those expensive campaigns, allowing them to travel hither and yon, spouting big words and fancy obscure ideologies.

The little people, the ones affected by their decisions, rarely fund those campaigns. The little people are working, taking care of families, and wondering how they will survive next week, next month and next year.

The little people don’t typically cast aspersions at environmentalists, at the tea party, or at activists of any sort. We little people are too busy trying to survive and thrive. Not only do we not have time, but we don’t have interest in extremes at either end of the spectrum. What the people care about is what affects them every day.

We care about the price of gas, and how we can make a tank stretch until next payday. We care about buying milk, diapers and whether we can afford day care next week.

Politicians typically get lost in rhetoric. They forget all about serving people and making the world a better place, if they ever think about it at all.

There are public servants, who work to ensure that our town is safe and well run. They care about the quality of life for the people they serve. Those public servants are not politicians, just average people like the rest of us, just trying to get by.

With campaign season in full swing, we will soon be inundated with loquacious politicians, trying to schmooze us. They pretend to be just like us, to understand the plight of the common folk. They try to disguise their rhetoric, to simplify and dumb it down.

What we can’t lose sight of is that they are no better, nor really any worse than any of us. Misguided? Yes, probably so. But we are all fighting a hard battle, in one way or another. During campaign season, my advice to politicians, and the victims of politicians, is to be kind. Everyone is fighting a hard battle.

Namaste, friends.

Have you ever gotten a rude email from a coworker, a snotty text from a teenager, or read an aggravating post on Facebook? Welcome to the information superhighway. We are bombarded daily with messages from so many different directions, it’s hard to know which way is up.

I have learned the hard way, that the way to deal with messages that make me mad, whether they are from my children, coworkers, friends or acquaintances, is to not hit send.

When I receive a message that rubs me the wrong way, my initial response is usually disbelief. “What?” I think. “How could they say such a thing to me, or about me? I’ve never done anything wrong! I am an innocent bystander.”

My disbelief usually gives way quickly to righteous indignation. “I’m going to set them straight. They obviously don’t know what they are talking about,” I think as my fingers quickly type out a biting response.

Those responses, fired off in the heat of passion, rarely produce the desired result. What I want is a broken and contrite teenager. What I get is a back and forth of nasty that leaves me feeling drained, defeated and dirty.

Fortunately, with eight kids, I get lots of practice. And I have learned that, while a witty and hard-hitting retort may satisfy my need to be right, it is usually not in my best interest. Wait. I exaggerate. It is never in my best interest to cut people to the quick.

I work with words. I love words. I pride myself on being able to eviscerate a person with just a few quick key-strokes. The written word is a powerful tool. Much like our spoken words, what we say has the power to lift someone up, or tear them down. When attacked, I often choose to come back with greater force, to teach them a much-needed lesson.

There is a better way. When you see something that hurts you, or is untrue about you, or just makes you mad, you can write the meanest response you like. The secret is to not hit send.

Once you have written your rebuttal, don’t hit send. Wait a while. Reread it. Consider if this is truly how you want to present yourself.

Who we are is a result of what we think, say and do. The things we do and say are evident to everyone around us. As a mom, as a friend, and as a person, I want to be kind, gentle and loving to those around me. Even when I get mad, or feel unjustly attacked, my response should reflect who I want to be. Each moment is an opportunity to decide again, who you want to be.

Go ahead and write that scathing response. Even better than typing it, write it by hand on a piece of paper. You can really let them have it on paper. Once you have written your meanest, self-justifying letter, read it again. Consider for a moment that what the other person said or wrote really had nothing to do with you. Although they sent that text or email, or made that comment, it is really a reflection of who they are, and where they were at that moment. It has nothing to do with you. Really.

Now that you’ve reread your response, consider if this is really who you are. Is this how you want that person to perceive you? If you are on social media, is this how you want everyone else to perceive you? Do you really want your kids, your coworkers and your friends to feel the full brunt of your ire?

Now is the time to hit delete. You’ve written your response, vented your anger, and had your say. Now, don’t hit send. Let it sit awhile. Chances are, when you come back around to your response in a few minutes, or an hour, or a day, you will feel differently.

I rarely regret holding my tongue. I always regret the unkind words I have spoken. The sharp sword of my words brings regret and sadness and the satisfaction I long for is elusive.

A kind word is never wasted or regretted. If you are ever in doubt, don’t hit send.

Namaste friends