One Voice Two Voice

Of the beings, by the beings, and for the beings.

She was perfectly unique.

Emily Two could already feel the criticism. I didn’t blame her. Why shouldn’t the constituency be skeptical? There had already been a long litany before her making false promises and pledges. She was just another in a long line. She was an unknown commodity in the political jungle. There was something undeniable, though. It wasn’t that she seemed more sincere. Plenty before her had and many more after her would try to give the same impression.

She wasn’t giving any impressions. Emily was being Emily. It was that truth and honesty of her personality that enraptured me.

Maybe it was the setting. Maybe it was the sensations evoked at a tranquil spring-fed lake on an Indiana summer day. Maybe it was the slope of the land and the imperfection of mown weeds and grasses that are the settings for my fondest childhood memories. Maybe it was the perfect sky and the subtlest of breezes. Maybe it was the collective friendliness of the gathering or that she spoke to us without a microphone. Or, maybe…who am I trying to kid? It was Emily’s presence.

There was going to be a special runoff election for a deceased U.S. representative’s office. The governor had announced the runoff and the other party selected her in an unrealistic attempt to unseat the entrenched, incumbent party. Emily just happened to be at the same Independence Day picnic that I was attending.

She was standing before me emotionally naked and vulnerable. Without even trying, she gave to me her intellect and the insight of her vision. She had no need to speak over my head with political rhetoric, nor did she seem capable.

Emily Two could fulfill the most primitive need that the democratic process had intended.

Could and should are one thing, but would seemed rather impossible.