Blessed are Those Who Get Off the Fence…Oh! And What I’m Learning About Conflict
It was the endearing title bestowed upon me by my grandfather on my mother's side.
"There's my Queen of Serenity," he'd say in his deep, almost aristocratic southern accent as he greeted me with the warmest hug and a peck on the cheek.
He said it with such tenderness and love, like he really meant it, like that is who he saw when he looked at me.
And I would always envision some British royal like Queen Elizabeth II or maybe Princess Diana--I am a child of the 1980s, after all. I loved the idea of being a queen of anything especially of something I valued so deeply--peace.
Molly and my grandfather, her great-grandfather…You’re so missed, Papaw.
But I could never accept the obvious compliment. The whole idea of it only made me more uncomfortable in my already self-conscious skin.
A Queen of Serenity would have to be graceful, strong, courageous, poised, self-assured, and yes, serene both inside and out.
I would have never used any of those words to describe myself.
Anxious and awkward? Definitely. Insecure? For sure. Sweet and quiet? Maybe, but also weak and not a bit brave.
I never felt peaceful or serene…how could I possibly be the queen of such things? And besides, a queen is a leader, and I spent most of my life shrinking back from any leadership role even if it was handed to me mostly because I didn't want to be in the middle of any sort of conflict.
And yet, there was always an internal conflict, a war raging inside me between myself and my own stifled opinions and thoughts. I would have never dared to share these aloud especially if they conflicted with the other more outspoken and equally opinionated amongst my family and friends.
Allowing my own anger or opinions to be voiced certainly would only create more conflict and my goal was to avoid that at all costs. It was a price I was willing to pay, at the time, for some sense of peace.
And so the war inside me and around me waged on.
Queen of Serenity? That couldn't possibly be me.
I had bestowed a different title upon myself.
Stifling too much of who I was and am, I took on the title of peace-keeper which came with its own throne of sorts, albeit a not very comfortable one aloft the proverbial fence, and that's where I spent a fair bit of my life as I acted out my duties as peacekeeper…on The Fence.
But it was rarely peaceful there either.
Although the outside observer may have seen a quiet, and yes, even serene exterior, under the surface I was frantic.
I felt pulled in a million different directions, within myself and without, trying to maintain my own internal peace and the external peace involving others.
It was like I was at the center of a poorly-built spiderweb clinging desperately to every string of connection. I was terrified of the strings being dropped or severed; it was exhausting.
I found the safest place to station myself in order to keep the peace was on The Fence and so I lived there in every area of conflict, from religious and political conflicts (the obvious ones to avoid) to the simple stuff like deciding where to eat dinner.
And yet, I still longed to live up to the title of Queen of Serenity.
As Queen of Serenity, I would be able to hold peace within myself and keep peace with others effortlessly…Ok, maybe it wouldn't be effortless, but a queen can dream.
I would be a strong leader, gracefully sweeping through whatever room I walked into, never feeling that knee-jerk reaction of “I don’t belong here” or “who am I to lead?” or "No one cares about my opinions or what I have to say" or "best to keep that to yourself, don't want to rock the boat."
I would willingly share my honest opinions when I felt it would be helpful, and I would never get sucked into the chaos tornado of conflict…Maybe you know the one I'm talking about. It's the tornado of "I'm completely right and you're completely wrong," that sucks up everything in its path and therefore nothing ever gets resolved, not really anyway.
Nothing gets healed. Everyone only gets hurt.
It's the tornado that yanks you off The Fence, forcing you to merge with whatever side is yelling the loudest at the moment, if only to quiet that voice for just that moment all for the sake of a false peace.
But the Queen of Serenity would not be yanked any direction that she didn't choose. She wouldn't be sucked into the chaos.
Instead, she would choose to walk intentionally, straight into the middle of the conflict instead of avoiding it, graciously providing a peaceful and safe space for people as they had hard conversations.
She would remind everyone to have open eyes, open ears, open minds, and most importantly, open hearts full of love so they could really see and hear one another.
The Queen of Serenity would do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly.
All things impossible to do while sitting on a fence.
A Queen of Serenity would be a peacemaker.
A peacemaker.
Not a peacekeeper.
And these are two vastly different things often mistaken as synonyms.
Peacekeepers run away from conflict, entering it only when forced to do so because the conflict has made us uncomfortable. We enter the conflict with only ourselves and our own peace in mind.
Our drive to solve the conflict is fear-based and self-centered although it's cleverly disguised as philanthropy.
I've heard myself say too many times in my role as peacekeeper, "Can't we all just get along?"
I find myself wishing for a world without any sort of conflict or discord.
But we all know it isn't that simple. And it never will be, not with the diversity of experiences and complexities of being human.
And besides, life is a lot like music in this way; both are far more interesting when there's a few dissonant notes thrown in.
But it's hard for us peacekeepers to appreciate this tension and what it can achieve in the long-term, and so we spend the entirety of our lives on the fence because we're taught that getting off the fence means choosing a side.
And choosing a side creates more of that conflict we're so concerned with avoiding.
And it's true that getting off the fence means stepping into conflict, but what if getting off the fence didn't have to mean choosing a side?
What if getting off the fence could mean something more?
What if it could be the first step in becoming a peacemaker?
What if striving for the peacekeeper's definition of peace--the absence of conflict--is a distracting goal, keeping us from the real thing we all need and want?
We are humans after all, and there will probably always be conflict somewhere whether it's within our own selves or with others or both.
What if moving toward the conflict could help us better understand the different perspectives and life experiences creating the conflict in the first place?
What if that is the next step toward true reconciliation and peace--understanding?
What if just a small dose of understanding could lead to true peace and not just the absence of conflict?
What if the peacekeepers became peacemakers?
And what if we made the terrifying choice to get off our fences, those of us who live there…maybe even tear them down and start building bridges instead, creating connections between the "extremes" on either sides of the fence?
And more importantly, what if we stopped seeing extremes and instead saw people?
And speaking of seeing people, what if we took a look around ourselves? Who is next to us? Are there any people standing near us with differing perspectives and opinions?
If not, perhaps it's time for us to move away from the comfort of the extremes where everyone around us agrees with us, knowing full well that it will create the conflict we tend to avoid.
But what if conflict didn’t have to mean destruction and it could lead to truer and deeper connection?
Life may be more comfortable on the fence or in the extremes, but living life in either of these places isolates and disconnects us from ourselves and each other.
Comfort and peace are not synonyms either.
And a true peacemaker understands this and isn't afraid to leave their comfort zone. A peacemaker isn't afraid to venture into unknowns or what seems like opposing extremes to hear people and see them right where they are, for exactly who they are.
And maybe this is what the world needs more than anything these days.
So I'm choosing to get off the fence in order to build bridges.
That sounds like what a Queen of Serenity would do, and I'm ready to be that now.
A Note to my Grandfather:
Dear Papaw, I don't know if you're reading this or not. I don't know if the internet exists where you are now or if you're sitting here beside me as I write this or looking down from Heaven, but if you can read this, thanks for teaching me something about myself that I couldn't see.
Forever your,
Queen of Serenity.
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