Reconnecting

Not long ago, I was being chauffeured around the state by an amazing deputy political director, while campaigning for Lieutenant Governor. My and my running mate’s daily schedules were being crafted by a team of incomparable campaign professionals. And when we arrived at each of the many events of the day, an enthusiastic crowd was there waiting to meet us and hear what we had to say. The kindest ladies would bring me a plate of food afterwards and say in a motherly voice, “you need to eat” – and they already knew exactly what I liked. When I got home each evening, I sat in my truck and read so many encouraging messages on social media from people I had never met. That was a good season in many ways.

I don’t have that life anymore. I have lost two elections back to back – the 2018 campaign for Lieutenant Governor and then, in 2020, I lost the State House seat I had held for eight years – a job I loved and was good at. The move to the right in South Carolina and in my House district probably means that it will be a while before a Democrat like me could be elected again.

One evening late in the 2018 campaign, my childhood best friend, Carrie, came to a fundraiser we had in her city. I made my way to her as a campaign worker brought me a drink made exactly the way I like it. I thanked him and turned to see Carrie amused in that way that childhood friends know you better than anyone knows you. “Don’t get used to this,” she said. “This is not real life.” I gave her a big grin, “Isn’t it crazy?”

It was crazy. And it also gave me a nearly endless supply of adrenaline and dopamine as I spent my days traveling the state with my running mate, having hundreds of brief and beautiful connections with individuals and talking about big policy ideas to masses. It is so tempting to want that back. But it came with a cost. I didn’t realize it in the moment, but in the process of becoming so incredibly busy at the task of trying to convince masses of people to like us enough to vote for us, I had started to derive my own self worth by the ways in which I was perceived by an audience of potential voters.

In the height of campaigns I didn’t realize it, but I was becoming addicted to affirmation and adrenaline. At times, it was as if I believed that the thing that kept me alive was other people knowing that I was alive. If they forgot about me, then I would no longer exist. That sounds so strange to me now, but it was very real to me then – even if I didn’t acknowledge it. The fear of being forgotten, of no longer being relevant, was one of the strongest fears I had ever experienced.

But you know what happens when the thing you fear the most comes to pass? You stop fearing it. One of my former colleagues is fond of saying “there’s nothing deader than a former politician.” When my involuntary retirement from politics came, it was like being thrown from a train that had been going faster and faster – until suddenly, it was moving, but I wasn’t. It didn’t slow down or stop; I was just thrown off. That coincided with the isolation of the pandemic, so my options for finding footing again – at least among masses of people – were limited.

I retreated to nature. At first, it was difficult to be still. I’ve heard that when soldiers return from war, they have a hard time with things most people consider to be a part of daily life – like sitting in a restaurant. I’ve never been to war, but I think maybe the same brain chemical is produced in campaigns. It was difficult to will my body to be comfortable in stillness and silence. But when I did, I started to get glimpses of what being alive felt like. It wasn’t dependent on affirmation of the masses. That was an awareness I used to have – long before politics – but had lost. It is an authentic connection with others, without being dependent on them for acceptance and approval. And it’s a recognition of the constant flow of energy connecting us all to each other and to this living earth. I had lost this awareness somewhere in my busyness, and I am working diligently to get it back. This project is about that journey to find it again.