It's probably true that most human beings today spend much of their lives in search of stability and security.
That likely goes double for those living in war-torn countries or those without adequate food supplies, personal safety, or democratically elected governments.
For those of us lucky enough to have been born after World War II in the Western world where democracy is a right, we have not been faced with starvation, abject poverty, or dictators bent on erasing our ethnicity, language, traditions or worst of all, our right to live as free individuals.
While that paragraph may sound like the beginnings of a sermon delivered from the pulpit of a church on a Sunday morning, it is not meant to be preachy. It is meant, however, to serve as a reminder of what millions of people enjoy and of even more millions of people lack.
I have spent 26 years living in six foreign countries during my eight decades on the planet and yet, today, I am still amazed at how easily people with means are prone to complain when their carefully constructed lives are challenged by unexpected and sometimes unwelcomed events by leaders that are determined to take them on a temporary journey into uncertainty.
After spending the last 20 years on a mountaintop in New Mexico in the company of nature's creatures like the American black bear as my neighbors, I have learned many important lessons from them.
Among them is the power of adaptability when it comes to survival.
Another is the necessity of using all of our senses and our basic instinct to determine whether something is permanently threatening or is just a temporary disturbance.
Then there is the lesson of the importance of family to our well-being and preservation and the skills we need to protect those we love.
During those years, many black bears who are not naturally hostile creatures came and went on our property. They are conflict-averse but are ready to defend themselves or their young if they perceive something or somebody to be a threat. In that respect, they are different from we highly evolved creatures who often have great difficulty in distinguishing friend from foe.
In my childhood, we had dogs of all different breeds. Each breed had different characteristics and different personalities, but all shared the same basic instincts that enabled them to bond with humans, to learn from them, and to survive their mood swings. If you've ever looked into a dog's eyes you can see beyond their pupils and into their very nature if you open your mind and heart to the possibility that within their bodies reside not just millions of cells but a soul as well.
And it is their very soul that endears them to us, that speaks to us in ways their physical trappings of fur, floppy ears or wagging tails do not.
The same is true of the many cats that have found their way to myself and my wife over the years. I am aware that many men feel that cats are somehow undeserving of their love and that only dogs that can be trained to obey their commands are truly "man's best friend," but I would submit that cats are closer to us humans in their stubborn individuality and street smarts.
Cats tend to ponder their moves while dogs tend to pander to our need for control or dominance. That is not an insult to canines, it is just an observation of the differences in creatures and the lessons that we can take from being in their orbits.
There is one challenge facing millions of people, especially those in the Western industrialized world today. It is the administration of the current U.S. president, Donald J. Trump.
Never in my memory since the world dispensed with WWII's dictators has one man been as demeaned, defiled, disrespected and ridiculed by his detractors and praised by his supporters as has Mr. Trump.
His style is neither that of a dog nor a cat or even a bear, but it is predictable. It is that of a teenager whose hormones are raging within his body and who feels powerful beyond his actual limits and who is willing to push the envelope of the possible and try the patience of his parents.
Thankfully, for society and those around him, the adolescent's growing pains will eventually stop. His hormones will settle back down and be replaced by common sense, often influenced by some of the unfortunate decisions made in his early years of rebellion against authority.
When we approach a dog on a long chain in a fenced-in yard that is growling at us, we know enough to avoid risking a closer look or trying to pet it. The same is true of animals feeding or those nursing their young. We give them space and show them respect for their adherence to their instincts.
Donald Trump is an outlier when it comes to animal (or people) husbandry.
He seems to believe that his instincts are somehow more advanced or highly-developed than those of millions of ordinary people who seek stability, security and prosperity through a less chaotic process of predictability.
It is not clear to me, at least, if Donald Trump actually believes there is an ultimate goal to be achieved by his unorthodox devotion towards using disruption.
At this early stage of his presidency, I am willing to entertain the possibility that Mr. Trump actually believes in the power of conflict and chaos to achieve a sense of normalcy while the rest of us view it as being akin to bulldozing a structurally sound building that can be repaired if only we take our time to figure out how … together.
There is one thought that worries me, however, and it is that Mr. Trump may actually be addicted to the process of disruption and is only comfortable when everyone around him is off balance and vulnerable and that there is no end game for him, only more disruption.
When I was a boy, I had a cocker spaniel named Mickey who loved to chase cars on our small-town Wisconsin street. He was usually able to keep up with them for a hundred feet or so until the driver shifted into a higher gear. Then he surrendered and sauntered back to our front stoop, all tuckered out.
I firmly believe that Mickey loved the process and the challenge of the chase and I often secretly hoped that one day he would catch a wayward Packard. Had he been able to I am sure that he would have known instinctively that he couldn't drive it even if he had managed to catch it.
Stephen Helgesen is a retired career U.S. diplomat specializing in international trade who lived and worked in 30 countries for 25 years during the Reagan, G.H.W. Bush, Clinton, and G.W. Bush Administrations. He is the author of fourteen books, seven on American politics, and has written over 1,500 articles on politics, economics and social trends. He now lives in Denmark and is a frequent political commentator on Danish media. He can be reached at: stephenhelgesen@gmail.com.
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