The Meaninglessness of Losing the Presidency #050
Reflections on Almost Gaining the Whole World
I saw a video on my feed showing a mural of Vice President Kamala Harris being painted over
.
Before the election, I talked with my wife about the complex position Harris found herself in. If she won, she’d become the first female president, a figure celebrated in history. But if she lost, she’d be remembered as the first female Vice President and, over time, perhaps as a trivia question on a game show.
Imagine being Kamala Harris in those months leading up to the election. For a time, you’re at the center of attention, surrounded by influential people, invited to exclusive events, and celebrated publicly. The whole world seems to be within reach, yet suddenly it’s all gone. Now, she won’t be a “first” anymore. She risks becoming a footnote, and some may associate her with an administration that faced heavy criticism. The admiration she once received is replaced by questions: Where did the campaign funds go? What if she had said something different? Could she have done more to help the party?
In that conversation with my wife, I reflected on the gravity of nearly reaching an immortal legacy, only to watch it fade. It reminded me of the teacher’s reflections in Ecclesiastes:
3 What do people gain from all their labors
at which they toil under the sun?
4 Generations come and generations go,
but the earth remains forever.
5 The sun rises and the sun sets,
and hurries back to where it rises.
6 The wind blows to the south
and turns to the north;
round and round it goes,
ever returning on its course.
7 All streams flow into the sea,
yet the sea is never full.
To the place the streams come from,
there they return again.
8 All things are wearisome,
more than one can say.
The eye never has enough of seeing,
nor the ear its fill of hearing.
9 What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun.
10 Is there anything of which one can say,
“Look! This is something new”?
It was here already, long ago;
it was here before our time.
11 No one remembers the former generations,
and even those yet to come
will not be remembered
by those who follow them.