What am I still carrying?

As I was reading yet another in the long line of "I can't believe America elected a [Black|African-American|Muslim parented|mixed race] President" the following story came to mind...

A senior and a junior monk were walking back from the market to their monastery, after a rainstorm.

They reached a river-crossing which was usually shallow, but now they found it hip deep. A pretty girl was on the riverbank crying because she would ruin her clothes to wade across the river.

The senior monk picked the girl up in his arms and carried her across the river, carefully placing her down on dry ground.

The 2 monks continued back to the monastery, but the younger one was appalled...monks were not allowed to touch women, even look at, or speak to them...how could the senior monk justify this breach of his vow?

Eventually he had to ask the senior monk...How could you?

The senior monk said,"When I reached the far riverbank, I put the girl down and left her there. It is you that has been carrying her back to the monastery and can't put her down."

I am disquieted by the thought that so many dwell on the most superficial aspects of the past election. If any conditional statement should be made it is ...

Barack Obama is the President [Elect]

As I went searching for the story (which I found here) I felt the chill of conscious realization in the question: What am I still carrying?

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