What we can learn from Biden's ego death

And letting myself hope again this election season

Well, it’s been a hell of a week.

This time last week, President Biden withdrew from the presidential race after a dismal debate performance and intense pressure from the Democratic party, all of which I wrote extensively about in my last newsletter.

I won’t rehash the details here, the conversation has shifted and we’re all on board with Kamala…right? But before we get to Madam President, I want to talk a bit about Biden’s withdrawal.

It was historic. Many say heroic, most patriotic and it’s hard for anyone to deny the courage and sacrifice behind his actions.

Let me first preface that this won’t be a I-now-love-Joe-Biden post but it is a I-now-have-deep-respect-for-Joe-Biden post. Before his withdrawal, I was feeling quite angry and frustrated by his stubbornness — what he perceived as resilience is what we all eventually named as selfishness.

He is not my favorite President, far from it, but I don’t hate him either. Besides his messy navigation of the war in Gaza, which has now killed more than 39,200 Palestinians because of his complicity, I have found most of his policies and achievements quite mild. That is, after all, why we all elected him. Many of us wanted to get back to sense of normalcy, a pre-Trump world. He has been, for me at least, a perfectly imperfect President.

Let’s be honest and name that we never really healed from the divisive years after Trump, and despite Biden’s efforts to reunite us as the Great Union so many Presidents have claimed us to be, Biden was never really meant to be the guy to pull on my heart strings.

But he did this week.

Watching him as Kerry Howley beautifully writes in New York Magazine was a bit heartbreaking for me. With his excessive make-up (just enough to obscure his pale but not too orange skin), a hoarse voice from either COVID or old age who knows, and a special kind of stiffness that only comes from a lack of confidence when reading a teleprompter.

The 11 minutes he spoke reminded us why we are so relieved that he is no longer running for president, but it also made me feel a deep empathy for Uncle Joe.

“I believe my record as president, my leadership in the world, my vision for America’s future all merited a second term, but nothing — nothing — can come in the way of saving our democracy. That includes personal ambition,” he said.

After getting over the whirlwind of the moment, when I think about this, I am truly moved by President Biden’s withdrawal. It is hard for us as humans to admit when we are wrong. It is even harder for us to do it on a public stage. Even harder than that is not letting our pride and ego take over in moments of desperation and desire. Even harder that that, is to let go of power, especially when you are one of the most powerful people in the world.

Sure you could make a strong case that Biden was pressured out by, well, everyone and that it was his duty and his speech was unsatisfying. But it does take a certain sense of awareness, a deep wisdom, a humility to understand that your actions have consequences, that you — as a human — are part of larger ecosystem, a longer history, and in this case, a needed democracy.

Are we in The Great Rebirth?

Our egos are a tricky thing. Just ask Freud.

I’m not a therapist (but maybe one day!) but what I do know about our egos is that they are hard to wield, manage, and transform. In Buddhism, we speak about the Great Death and the Great Rebirth.

In Buddhism, the Great Death is a transformative process where our literal sense of self dissolves, where the ego shatters, and you start feeling liberated after realizing that we are all interconnected — because all the things that you did before for your ego, you know now don’t really matter. (Again, leading us back to the concept of emptiness.) You hear about these types of realizations often when people use psilocybin.

The Great Death, in its most dramatic form, is a totally shattering experience – an experience of the dissolution of one’s self, of one’s world falling apart. The person is left not knowing who he or she is or what the world is. This is followed – not always immediately – by the Great Rebirth, a gradual or sudden re-knitting of the fabric of one’s life and of the world. But now everything is totally new, is luminous and filled with compassion.

From Treetop Zen Center

You could argue that we saw Joe’s Great Death over the course of the three weeks that he dropped out of the debate until he withdrew. Remember following the Great Death, we see a world emerge afterwards that is luminous and filled with compassion. (To differentiate for us philosophy and psych nerds: Ego death is just about the dissolution.)

It is hard to deny the energy behind Kamala right now. Watching her speak on her campaign has given me hope for the first time for our country since Obama — not only is she seizing the moment but to see how the Democratic party has rallied behind her has been extraordinary. She secured the nomination in the first 48 hours, has already raised a record-breaking $200 million, broken Zoom’s capacity and become a viral meme. Without about 100 days left, it feels like there is a light at the end of this American tunnel and it sounds like Kamala’s laugh.

She is not the perfect candidate but we all know that, and it’s OK because we are hoping for something more.

It’s just nice to hope again.

It’s hard for me not to see the spiritual significance of this moment — that Joe’s Great Death has potentially led our country to a Great Rebirth. His withdrawal created an opening for not just for Kamala, but for the future.

Not only is he setting an example that all old white dudes should step aside so women of color can lead, but we all have a bit more space to expand our idea of what’s possible now. No matter how the MAGA world and future history books might paint him, he’s forever earned my respect.

As a Queer woman of color, I know that the life I have cultivated and created for myself would not be possible if my parents had not immigrated to this country. And as a kid of Vietnam War refugees, I know how different my life could have been. So as much trepidation as I have for letting myself hope, I’m doing it.

I am no longer just hoping for a pre-Trump world, I am hoping for the future. I am hoping for an America I can be proud of again.

For all of you who are still anxious, confused, skeptical, trust me, I get it. But here’s my invitation to you: Why not allow yourself to feel a little hope? Why not have a bit of faith that your heart is strong enough to withstand what is to come? We’ve gotten this far. It’s better to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all, right?

So here are a few mindful contemplations to consider from me, to you, that I think we can learn from Biden:

• In which ways can we stop grasping onto our own power to create more space for others? How can we stop letting our egos get in the way of compassion?

• In which ways can we let go of our sense of self and understand that we are all interconnected?

• Can you allow yourself to believe that another world is possible? That transformation is possible? If not, I invite you to explore your resistance to it.

I hope you dig deep and are gentle. Feel the feelings. Make a plan. And then, do the thing. We can’t do this on our own, but we can do it together.

As our potential future Madam President is saying, let’s get to work.