Email Error

I have an email address that has been compromised. It’s not my official one. It’s an extra one that I get for free through my internet provider. It’s simply shelly@... And, apparently, I’m not the only Shelly on the planet who used that email address. There’s some Michelle, somewhere, who uses this as well. About half of the emails I receive at this address are meant for her. I know this, because they are from a grade school coach who talks about her son making it to the bus on time; or an auto insurance company who thanks her for requesting a quote; or from countless other web addresses to whom I diligently Unsubscribe, just so my email box won’t be cluttered. I know that I was never meant to receive this email:

I showered and shaved............... I adjusted my tie.
I got there and sat.............. In a pew just in time.
Bowing my head in prayer......... As I closed my eyes.

I saw the shoe of the man next to me.....
Touching my own. I sighed.
With plenty of room on either side...... I thought,
"Why must our soles touch?"

It bothered me, his shoe touching mine...
But it didn't bother him much.
A prayer began: "Our Father"............. I thought,
"This man with the shoes.. has no pride.

They're dusty, worn, and scratched. Even worse,
there are holes on the side!"
"Thank You for blessings," the prayer went on.
The shoe man said............... a quiet "Amen."

I tried to focus on the prayer....... But my thoughts were on his shoes again
Aren't we supposed to look our best.. When walking through that door?

"Well, this certainly isn't it," I thought, Glancing toward the floor.
Then the prayer was ended............ And the songs of praise began.

The shoe man was certainly loud...... Sounding proud as he sang.
His voice lifted the rafters......... His hands were raised high.
The Lord could surely hear.. The shoe man's voice from the sky.

It was time for the offering......... And what I threw in was steep.
I watched as the shoe man reached.... Into his pockets so deep.
I saw what was pulled out............ What the shoe man put in.
Then I heard a soft "clink" . as when silver hits tin.

The sermon really bored me.......... To tears, and that's no lie.
It was the same for the shoe man..... For tears fell from his eyes.
At the end of the service........ As is the custom here!
We must greet new visitors.. And show them all good cheer.

But I felt moved somehow............. And wanted to meet the shoe man
So after the closing prayer.......... I reached over and shook his hand.
He was old and his skin was dark..... And his hair was truly a mess.

But I thanked him for coming......... For being our guest.

He said, "My names' Charlie.......... I'm glad to meet you, my friend."
There were tears in his eyes......... But he had a large, wide grin!
"Let me explain," he said........... Wiping tears from his eyes.
I've been coming here for months.... And you're the first to say" Hi".

"I know that my appearance........."Is not like all the rest.
"But I really do try................."To always look my best."
"I always clean and polish my shoes.."Before my very long walk.
"But by the time I get here........."They're dirty and dusty, like chalk."

My heart filled with pain............ and I swallowed to hide my tears.
As he continued to apologize......... For daring to sit so near.
He said, "When I get here..........."I know I must look a sight.
"But I thought if I could touch you.."Then maybe our souls might unite."

I was silent for a moment............ Knowing whatever was said.
Would pale in comparison... I spoke from my heart, not my head.
"Oh, you've touched me," I said......"And taught me, in part;
"That the best of any man............"Is what is found in his heart."
The rest, I thought,................. This shoe man will never know.
Like just how thankful I really am... That his dirty old shoe touched my SOUL!

You are special to me and you have made a difference in my life.
I respect you, and truly cherish you.
Send this to your friends,
No matter how often you talk, Or how close you are,
And send it to the person who sent it to you.

Let old friends know you haven't forgotten them, and tell new friends you never will. Remember, everyone needs a friend.

Someday you might feel like you have no friends at all.
Just remember this and take comfort in knowing that someone out there cares about you…  and always will.

Like sunsets are a gift of nature, but not, specifically my gift; like an easy commute is an accidental gift of chance, but not a gift meant for my convenience; like a sale price on the very thing I need the most is a gift of luck, but not some cosmic gift of generosity on my behalf, this email was never meant to be a gift for me.

Or was it?

Have a beautiful day, and look for all the things that you don’t think were meant for you. They were. Little gifts are hidden everywhere!

Examples from Unexpected Sources

I have given-up drive-thru food. Although I expect a relapse, anytime, I have avoided eating food that comes in a fast food sack for almost 6 weeks, now. I have not, however, given up on the one dollar, large, unsweetened tea that McDonald’s so proudly serves. Last Wednesday morning, I went through the drive through before work and was so stunned by the greeting I received from the young man who handed me my drink that I had to pull over, park the car and go in to find the manager.

When the manager approached me, I could tell she was nervous. She smiled politely and asked if she could help me, to which I replied, “Yes, please. Do you see that young man at the drive through window?” I asked her, pointing in that direction. She nodded. “Do you know what he said to me?”

“No, ma’am.” She was quiet and cautious, waiting to hear what I said and bracing for the worst.

“He said, ‘Thank you for choosing McDonald’s. I hope you have a wonderful day. And please, drive safely.”

I smiled. The manager smiled, too, but a little warily. I continued, “I’ve been going through drive-thrus for about 25 years, now, and I have to say, I have never been greeted so sincerely. I wanted you to know that he’s doing a great job, and you are doing a great job. Thank you so much. He made my day.”

And she smiled bigger. Later, I was told by another patron who followed me out of the restaurant, she gave that employee a big “High 5,” and they smiled and laughed, together.

I am not naïve. I know that employees are coached to say, “Please,” and “Thank you,” and “Have a nice day.” I even know that some employees like to put their own spin on it, and say, “Have a great day,” or “Have an incredible day,” in an effort to help people hear the greeting, instead of allowing it to be just another bit of polite noise we exchange with each other. But I have never been told to drive safely, and certainly not with the full eye contact and smile that conveyed such earnest well-wishes. How simple. How impactful.

I don’t know what the rest of the day was like for that employee or for that manager. I do know that the rest of my day, I was happy. I was happy that someone cared about his job. I was happy that someone cared about the customer. I was happy that someone cared about, and seemed proud of, her employees and her own effect on the team. The entire exchange inspired me. Through some form of psychological transference, I then saw my own team as people who cared about their jobs and their customers, and who were proud of themselves and their effect on the team. I am sure that my renewed outlook allowed me to talk to them with more care and enthusiasm than I may have on other days before.

You never know exactly who might set an example for you, or what small thing you might do, today, to set an example for someone else. When I think about that simple exchange, and how great an impact it had on me and, therefore, the people with whom I interacted that day, I realize just how powerful our human connection can be. I hope to remember this example for a long time, and continue to pattern myself after that young man who handed me a glass of tea through a drive-thru window.

Social Media

There was an old joke that asked: what are top three ways to pass information to others?

Answer: Telephone, Television, and Tell a woman.

Now, I think that punch line would have to be: IPad, IPhone, and IPosted it on Facebook.

In some ways, social media with all of the constant updating annoys me. It seems almost ridiculous that we post less than news-worthy information as freely as we do, as if we are certain that the world is so amazed with us that everyone deserves to know whether we ate traditional Cheerios this morning or Honey Nut.  What is this craving we have to be known? We want people to see our pictures, to know that we are shopping at Target, to read what we are thinking. In some ways, this blog is a testament to that, as well. After all, apparently I imagine, possibly as some subtle sign of my own arrogance, that people may just want to hear my thoughts on subjects like red shoes, love, and… well… social media.

Perhaps, though, this tweeting and updating is more of a reflection of our mobility than of our arrogance or curiosity. In years past, when families rarely ventured out of their home towns, it may have been easier to keep track of one another. We saw each other, I imagine, at the drug stores or walking downtown. We probably passed one another on sidewalks where we said things like, “I just had the best spaghetti at Sally’s mom’s diner. Did you know they had spaghetti there?” There was something friendly, I suppose, about sharing the non-earth-shattering details like, “Jody fell from the swing, so I’m here to buy some mercurochrome.” After all, everyone can spout the headlines, but only the most trusted and intimate of our friends know the nitty-gritty happenings of our daily lives.

Perhaps, for the 21^st century, social media is our way of maintaining some of what Mayberry had to offer. We can gossip, share our thoughts, ideas, fears and situations in a way we might have shared with our druggist, our barber, our filling station attendant in previous decades. Since we aren’t as likely to pass our friends on the sidewalk anymore, we can substitute the posting of our little one-liners to pass information through our profile pages. We may have become busier and more removed from others, but clearly, we’re not willing to live without some way to tell someone a funny joke we just heard.

It’s important to feel connected, to think that someone cares what made us happy today (which they can “Like,” if it makes them happy, too) or watch as a quote we thought was interesting spurs conversations between our friends who live hundreds of miles apart. We can move out of our parent’s homes, out of the towns of our childhoods, across or completely out of the country. Still, thanks to social media, no matter how mobile we have become, we can feel connected to the people in our community by sharing those little, day-in-the-life details that only friends care to hear. 

I guess when I think of it like passing a neighbor on the street and saying, “Hi! I’m headed to the grocery. Do you know if peaches are on sale?” I don’t mind all the Tweeting one bit. In fact, it makes the world seem a little more like a small town and just a little friendlier. So, if you’ll please excuse me, I think I’ll go update my status. And while I’m at it, I’ll look for yours and hope it reveals that you are having a joy-filled day!

Talking it Out

Lately, between a few vacation days, a holiday and my generalized lack of inspiration, I have not been writing at all. I suppose you may not have missed my “weekly” blog, but in case you did, let me just say that I took a break. Now that the nation is looking at another mass killing, however, I thought I might just weigh-in, because talking (or in my case, writing) is one of the most efficient ways to process information.

My questions are probably common ones… What kind of a person opens fire in a movie theater? What did he hope to accomplish? How will families heal from this? How will those who suffered wounds best recover not only from the physical wounds, but also from the emotional trauma? How will they cope with, maybe, never knowing why this happened at all?

That’s the issue: coping. It seems that one of the natural consequences of being human is that we must continually cope. We cope with the stresses of our jobs, of our family obligations, of financial pressures. We cope with losses, and heartbreak, and questions which will never have an answer. It really doesn’t matter what side of the fence we are on… whether we are close to a situation like this shooting or far removed, just the fact that it happened throws something else onto our proverbial Coping Plate.

When we are faced with shocking information, something that throws us off the train, so to speak, from our regular patterns of thought, we cannot just continue on our normal route. Something is forever changed. Sorting through that change takes time, and talking, and the support of other people who care.

People of Aurora, CO, please know that we all care. We, like you, are asking questions, trying to make some sense of this. Perhaps, as I do when I am thrown off track, you may find that you need a sabbatical… a break from the news stories, a break from the retrospection, a break from feeling sadness, or survivor’s guilt (find info here), or fear for the state of man. I hope you will give yourselves the opportunity to heal from this gaping wound. I hope you will look for resources. I hope you will journal, rest, work, and grieve your way through this, however you must.

And when you feel the weight of your sadness might be too much to bear, please talk. As the wise Henry Wadsworth Longfellow once said,

                  “Well it has been said that there is no grief like the grief which does not speak.”

You must talk about this. And we will. And together, we will find our own tracks, again.

Proving or Discovering

I am sitting here with a tube that goes into my nostril and down the back of my throat. It’s not great. It’s not as horrible as it sounds, but it’s not great. Nonetheless, I am only suffering this for 24 hours, in the name of science. A research project in which I volunteered to participate is going to be checking my acid levels all night. I know that research finds ways to help most people, most of the time, in most average circumstances, so I never mind participating in studies. I also know that almost no situation is average, and “most” means, by definition, that some are left out. Sometimes, this lack of consideration for the some who are left out gets so frustrating to me that I spout out things like, “Numbers lie!” and “Live by the people in front of you, not by the research you’ve read in some book!” as if I give no credence whatsoever to research findings. I do, of course, as evidenced by the fact that I’m willing to have a tube up my nose for 24 hours, but I also believe that once you’ve determined through research what to most often expect, you should still expect anything at all.  

I could say the same thing about living your dreams. Sometimes we get so stuck in what “usually” happens, or what “has happened 1000 times before,” or what we’ve seen happen to everyone else, that we stop imagining what our own, most joyful life could be. Or, we’re so concerned about the side-effects that have been proven “might” befall us that we resist the impetus to move.

If we stop looking at our lives as much like researchers and start looking at our lives more like discoverers, joy will naturally follow. The difference? Researchers start with a premise, something they believe to be true based on what they already know… “I know that I cannot fly.” Then they set about to prove it, by dropping things that do not fly and saying, “I have the evidence that flight is impossible. All the times I tried, nothing flew.”

Discoverers start with a dream… “I would love to fly.” Then they set about brainstorming methods, and imagining and studying things that do fly, and making models, and learning as they go about what not to do, and one day they announce, “Look! I’ve discovered a way for man to fly!” It’s an important distinction. And in our lives, it’s important for us to know what we’ve set out to prove versus what we’ve set out to discover, if we are to live joyfully.

Are you proving that your job is horrible, by recounting everything that is difficult or every person you dislike? Or are you discovering all of the incredible ways you get to contribute and experience yourself… as compassionate, team-spirited, creative, or whatever…

Are you proving that the economy is bad, by focusing on what you’ve lost or are losing? Or are you discovering exciting ways to enjoy your life with less money… enjoying your inner-chef by cooking at home, marveling at your own discipline in paying off your smallest credit card balance…

I don’t actually know if the scientist who required this tube to be placed in a subject’s nose is researching (“… I already believe healthy people have this much acid production, now I need to prove it…”) or if he is discovering (“… I dream to find a cure for acid reflux, and to do that, I am studying acid…”). I hope it’s the latter. And I hope that you and I will always start with the dream of what can be, instead of the premise of whatever evidence we see around us, and joyfully set about discovering that dream.   

Happy Father's Day, 2012

Today I went to a body shop to get an estimate to have my car repainted. I thought it was a random idea… something I’d been thinking of doing for a year and just happened to do today. I’m wondering now, however, if it wasn’t something more… something cosmically connected to this anniversary on which we celebrate our fathers. You see, the moment I walked into that shop, the “shop smells,” like the smell of oil and solvents and dust and whatever else makes a garage smell like a garage, filled my nose and reminded me of being a child… and reminded me of my dad.  

My dad raced motocross when I was a little girl. On Saturdays, dad would practice. On Sundays he would race. He was very good! Although I didn’t fully understand the concept of endorsements at my early age of five or six years old, for several years in a row, my dad would come home with a brand new bike with all the matching gear. I especially remember the Bultaco year, because I knew what bulls were, and I knew what tacos were, and that bike was my favorite, if for no other reason than because I could relate.  

I liked watching my dad race. And I liked hanging around while he chatted with his buddies after the race, complaining about the guy who was “squirrelly” in the second heat or the wash-out under the third jump. I’m amazed at how much, having always been a bit prissy and hateful of all things dirty, I loved being at the races. There, I felt cool... like I was part of a world of winners. On Thursday nights, though, dad wrenched on his bike in whatever garage he found, getting it ready for the weekend. In the middle of those greasy rags and ratchets clicking bolts tighter, I wasn’t only part of a world of winners, I was part of the grease-monkey crowd… the workers... the ones that made the winning possible.

That is the place I visited today when I stepped into the garage, not just the one from 2012 where I went to get an estimate, but also the one from 1973:  where dad was 28 years old and laughing, studying his bike, sometimes cussing; where the sound of the revving motorcycles in the garage was almost deafening, and exhilarating, too; and where the cloud of blue smoke in the room hurt my eyes. Today, I was reminded of winning, of the feeling of knowing winning is possible, and of appreciating all of the work it takes to win.  

Research unsurprisingly shows what we already know from experience: scents originally associated with various experiences will produce intense memories of those experiences, when present at a later time. With that level of recall possible, (not just a memory... more visceral than that), it makes me wonder if we shouldn’t be using smells more intentionally. Oh, sure. I light a candle, because it smells good, or because I want to create an “atmosphere,” but what if I selected scents that actually reminded me of life-lessons, or gave me that extreme sense of knowing, or almost physically hurled me back to the time when I felt my most secure and certain? For me, it wouldn’t be Lavender, or Vanilla, or Eucalyptus, though each of those is a perfectly fine smell. It would be Beef Stroganoff on the Stove, and Mom’s Hair Spray, and, very definitely, Two-Cycle Engine Exhaust. Ha! Glade probably wouldn’t sell a lot of that.

So, how about it? What smell would remind you of winning, and possibilities, and a time when the world was safe and wide open?  I hope they are easy for you to find and enjoy. Have a beautiful and memorable Father’s Day, remembering, knowing and appreciating. And if you happen to be a dad, never underestimate the impact of letting your children into your world. Even when they are not the focus of your attention, these are the times they learn to be winners. Thanks for letting me tag along, dad. I’ll never forget.

Archetypes

Over the weekend, I ran across a tape series that I have from Carolyn Myss, and in this series, she talks about archetypes (labels that imply entire character sketches). Although this author can be a little “out there,” for some, essentially Carolyn’s pictures are simply the language she uses to talk about the thoughts that so often govern our actions or steal our motivations. I could have applied archetypes to my writing, which I put-off more than I do, or clearing my house of clutter. I chose to focus on my physical health, first.

For quite some months, my most authentic self has been saying, “I want to be in better shape, more ready to face the world with a strong body and mind.” I’ve really been trying to determine why, when I know I feel better when I take care of myself, I am not motivated to do it. So, I listened to my thoughts just after I said, “I am going to eat better and walk every day.”

Almost immediately, my inner Child said, “Ok. But can we have candy first? I’ve been very good, today and I know where there is a Payday bar with your name on it!”

And my Saboteur said, “You know you want this bag of Doritos. Why don’t you just go for a walk after you eat this bag of Doritos,” negotiating road blocks into my path.

And my Victim spoke out and said, “You had a really hard day at work, today. And people have been mean to you. You really deserve to check out the new Five Guys burger place. Delicious!”

And then, my inner Prostitute said, “It’s totally worth trading your self-esteem for food. How much damage can one little quesadilla do? I’m hungry. And a girl’s gotta’ eat.”

Normally, any one of those reasons would have allowed me to cheerfully reach for a snack and nestle into the sofa. Yesterday and today, however, I said to my Child, “Yes, you have been a very good girl, so I’m going to go out and play with you.” Then I went for a walk.

And to my saboteur I said, “I might like that bag of Doritos, but I’ll decide after my walk,” after which I was pleased to find I didn’t feel like a bit like eating a bag of Doritos.

And to my victim I said, “You’re right. I have been mistreated, today, so now I will make my own decisions.” I decided that I need a strong, healthy body to pursue my real dreams.

And to my prostitute I said, “No. We don’t have to compromise, today. We’ll eat a delicious meal after the walk, and won’t have to trade anything, at all.”

It’s interesting to me, to recognize all of the parts of me weighing-in on my decisions. Not just in the area of exercise, but in all areas of my life. My list of excuses is extensive and always at the ready. In Christianity, we call it human frailty or sin. Flip Wilson famously said, "The Devil made me do it!" Carolyn calls it archetypes. Either way, I have to say that it feels pretty great to be in charge, for once, standing up to all my excuses and saying, “Yeah. That’s a good thought, but it’s not holding water, today. Let’s move on with reckless abandon toward living my dreams, instead.”

A Note of Gratitude

I had the pleasure this weekend of helping to conduct a seminar in North Carolina. It was a wonderful experience where I was able to work with a good friend of mine and also make a lot of new friends. For me, one of the best byproducts of doing one of these seminars is that it forces me to re-evaluate myself and my own conduct in relation to what I know to be true. Preparing to speak on the subject of joy, hope, faith and love required me over the last few weeks to spend time both analyzing how I experience those states of being in my own life, and also finding a way to articulate how I reconnect to and engage them when they are buried under the business of my daily activities. It is no small thing that this room full of new friends afforded me the opportunity for this self-examination by inviting me to speak, and I am overcome with gratitude.

Here are three ultimate truths that have been put back into my conscious mind, since I started preparing a few weeks ago:

1. People and things can delight me and help me to feel happy, but true joy comes from faith that, ultimately, all is well with my soul, regardless of what challenges I am facing.

2. Some of the best, most inspired times of my life have followed some of the most difficult challenges I have faced. If it’s difficult, it’s probably the thing most worth doing.

3. God is incessantly working behind the scenes, conspiring on my behalf. Therefore, I may see challenges for what they are: a rearranging of my circumstances to make room for everything I am made to experience and enjoy in this life.  

I think these things are difficult to remember when life feels as disheveled and scattered as an overturned applecart, but I think they are equally hard to remember when life is just plain busy. Thank you, my new friends, for reminding me that all is well, that whatever busy-ness and stress occurred from  preparing over the last several weeks was worth every minute, and for being that ‘behind the scenes’ blessing God had in store for me, all along! And thank you, too, to my veteran friends who have worked with me and helped me discover these truths, not just these last couple of weeks, but over a lifetime. 

I hope that, whatever challenges you face this week, you are able to bring these truths to your own consciousness, find evidence that they are true in your own life, and use them to reconnect you to your joy. Have a beautiful June!

Imposing Conditions

I am a Christian… a real-live, educated, questioning, faithful and skeptical Christian. I wonder about which parts of Scripture to take literally, and which parts to read like parables, and I think God doesn’t mind that I wonder. I think He’s glad I’m using the curiosity He instilled in me to find out more about my relationship with Him. I pray and cry out to God in my desperate moments and I laugh and thank Him out loud in my happiest of times. Sometimes, I shake my head and roll my eyes, and say toward the sky,  “Are you kidding me? What is this about?” in pure disgust, and do you know what? He doesn’t seem to be a bit intimidated by my irritations.

I know He knows me, because He made me, but I can feel that He knows me, because I let Him be with me. I don’t save pieces of sacred time to be reverent, and then un-invite Him into my less proud moments. He’s been there when I’ve dotted my speech with expletives and when I’ve felt so much animosity I wanted to spit on a person. He knows I have trouble with forgiveness, and He has, <gasp!> seen me drunk. I have spent time with Him walking in nature and being in awe of His greatness, and I have been silly and giddy at some of the fun things He has allowed me to see, feel, smell, hear and taste in this world.

I love Him. And I’m not ashamed of Him. But I have to say, I’m not going to forward an email just because it says that if I don’t, I’m not really a Christian. When I receive these emails, almost no matter how cool the content, I don't forward it. It's the principle of the thing. I will not be manipulated by some email authors determination that if his email doesn't go viral, then it must have landed in the hands of non-Christians. Yet, some part of me, some tiny voice from deep in the dark corners of doubt, says, "If you are not ashamed of Him, why don't you pass this on?"

I think that the imposition of conditional requirements may be one of the great joy thieves of our time. If we are not driving the right car, we’re not cool. If we aren’t thin enough, we aren’t pretty. If we don’t get a promotion, we aren’t smart. If one, particular person doesn’t love us, we aren’t lovable. Please. There is a big difference between evaluating what might be improved and allowing yourself to grow, and chastising yourself and making a lot of unhelpful conditional judgments. In one case, the If-Then is an acknowledgement of action preceding consequence, which, in this world, sometimes holds true. (If I put my bare hand on a hot stove, for example, then I will burn my hand.) The opposite of the evaluative If-Then, however, is the incorrect assertion that some action indictates some permanent and subjective condition. Be careful so that you don’t allow all of the email-like thoughts that come into your mental Inbox to have an “If… then you would,” attached.

For this week, try to hear yourself every time you say, think, or hear, “If… then…” Sometimes, it’s an important way to review action and consequence. Sometimes, though, it’s just a manipulation tactic with relatively little basis in truth. Can you tell the difference?

Happy Mother's Day, 2012

Have you seen the “You’re Doing Ok Mom,” Johnsons Baby commercial? (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yotq4zr0dRc)

There really should be one for moms of older kids, too, like one that I might have written when I was in middle school, which could have gone like this:

… I can call you mom, right? I mean, you’re not still mad about that whole screaming and slamming my door thing, are you? I know we’ve known each other about thirteen years now, and I think I know everything, and I hate everything that comes out of your mouth, but you seem like a real keeper. You’re not perfect, (there was that whole not-letting-me-get-my-ears-pierced thing), but you’re trying.

You ask me if I’m ok when I’m sulking, even though you know I’m going to say, “I’m fine, leave me alone!” and that’s highly important to a thirteen year old. You hum while we’re doing chores together and pretend you don’t notice that I’m acting like a brat, slamming things around as if I’m very put out to have to pick up my own socks. So cool. And when I’m laying face down on my bed, crying about the ‘mean girls’ or my latest boyfriend fiasco, the way you rub my head and tell me it will be ok is out of this world.

Anyway, I want you to know how much I appreciate you. You know, right, how much I love you? You’re doing ok, mom.

Or, maybe there should be one for now:

… I am so glad I get to call you my mom. We’ve known each other over 40 years now, and you are definitely a keeper. I’m not perfect, but am closer to that because of everything you’ve taught me over the years. And I’m trying (to be more like you).

You pick me up when I’m feeling less than great about myself. That’s the high art of comfort only a mother could provide. You hum to the radio when we’re in the car together. So cool. And your hugs are out of this world.

Anyway, I want you to know how much I appreciate you. You know, right, how much I love you? You’re doing ok, mom.

Happy Mother’s Day to moms all over the world, and especially my own.

You’re doing ok. 

The Good Life

Living “The good life.” That’s what we call it when wine is just a little more delicious, beds are a little softer, rooms are a little better decorated. As I sit here at the glorious W Hotel in San Francisco (just long enough to write this blog), I had the thought, “Ok. This is the good life.” I just finished a lovely breakfast that was a pretty as it was delicious (fresh fruit with honey infused yogurt drizzle and applewood smoked bacon), and am now perusing a catalog left in my room by the bliss spa, contemplating which of the nearly 100 options of pampering I might like to try while I’m here.

I am absolutely enthralled with this kind of living. I relish the anticipation of whatever fabulous foods await me in San Francisco, and I am purely delighted that my hotel room offers complimentary bottled water and bliss brand body butter. I wonder, though if Barry Schwartz might just be right. In his book, “The Paradox of Choice,” Schwartz makes the point that we get numbed to the good and bad of things, based on what our regular habits become. If we regularly drink the best wines and stay in the best hotels, for example, then our lavishness becomes “normal,” and therefore, not quite as satisfying, while anything less becomes quite the dissatisfier. Based on this information, it would seem that experiencing the “best of things” on a too regular basis leads, paradoxically, to less joy.

Have you ever heard, “Don’t save that good crystal for special occasions, use it every day, because every day is a special occasion?” I think the main point of that statement is to say that there is something special and beautiful in every day regardless of the circumstances that day brings. I subscribe to that theory. Nonetheless, are we turning ourselves into veritable amenity addicts, wherein we are forced to look for the next big high, ever pushing the envelope of luxury to the point that, because everything is special, nothing is special, anymore? It could be. And if that’s the case, then our relative discontent could be stealing our joy right out from under us.

So, what is the solution? Schwartz suggests practicing some self-deprivation. Go back to the times when you did save the good china for special occasions, so that you have some ritual that elevates the events in your life above the everyday experiences. I think this deprivation strategy is extreme. I think, actually, it is the variety, not the actual deprivation, that keeps us joyful and allows us to appreciate life. For example, during the perfect day that was yesterday, I wore blue jeans and ate a corn dog from a street vendor, with three close friends. Then, I had the pleasure of donning a little black dress and enjoying a lovely meal of lobster risotto and scallops in a chandeliered dining room, with new acquaintances. It wasn’t just the crystal that made the day, it was the contrast.

The thing about “The Good Life,” is that it’s all good. It’s good to use the good crystal, and it’s good to get out the plastic cups and eat on the porch. It’s good to eat blackened filet mignon with bleu cheese crumbles, and it’s good to eat a hotdog piled high with Hormel chili from a can. Variety may be more than the spice of life, it may be the absolute joy of it. And variety can help us remain in touch with our joy, because it reminds us that it’s all “The Good Life.”

If you find yourself feeling less than joyful, ask yourself what routine has numbed you. What will you do this week to mix it up? What will you do to feel more relaxed than usual, or feel more luxurious? How will you be making your life, “The Good Life?”      

The Restorative Niche

I went to see my grandmother this weekend, and had the pleasure of listening to a fabulous book-on-tape during my 13 hours in the car. The book was, “Quiet,” by Susan Cain and is an exploration of introverts vs. extroverts. The insight offered here was so delightful, that it gave me yet another piece to the puzzle of how to find and remain in touch with joy, despite all circumstances.

Introversion is, according to Cain, a word that describes the kind of people who like deep, personal subjects of conversation more than they like “small talk.” They prefer gatherings of a few close friends to a large cocktail party of who’s-who. They can thoroughly enjoy people, even crowds of people, but will tire of the stimulation more quickly than the extrovert. Extroverts get “cabin fever,” more readily, and need people, so they will go out for the weekend, plan a party, and choose to go somewhere loud, exciting, and stimulating. They are most likely to be the last to leave a big party, and thrive on the energy of big crowds.

I appreciate those definitions, and think, at the heart of me is an introvert. Recognizing myself as having traits of the introvert makes it easier for me to understand why I, a self-proclaimed public speaker who has no trouble singing in public, often feel the need to seclude myself. It helps me understand why 6 hours in a car, without the radio, speaking to no one is time I treasure. That has always felt like a contradiction in me, and now, it makes perfect sense. Not that I need a label to define myself or anyone else, but somehow, I have now been given permission to be enthusiastic, positive and friendly, yet also crave time to stay at home with only a good book for company.

If you have read my blogs for long, you may know that I often recommend retreating (meditation, taking a walk by yourself, turning off the television) as strategies for remaining in touch with your joy. “Quiet,” however, in defining introversion and extroversion so simply, has made me realize that perhaps my advice is not appropriate. At least, not for all of you. There may be those of you who work tirelessly through the week on projects or other things that demand your rapt attention, and you don’t need to decrease your stimulation at all, but rather would be restored by going to someplace loud, elbow-to-elbow, and high energy in order to recharge. As someone who avoids those kinds of crowded, noisy places, I would never have considered that. Some of you, like me, want less stimulation to recharge, and others of you need more. Cain calls this, “Finding your restorative niche.”

If your restorative niche is found in quiet places and times, then you need to give yourself permission to decline the invitation to go out on Friday, after a long week. Take a moment for yourself. If you are more extroverted, however, then you should be finding your way to the nearest “support group,” full of fun, loud-talking, joke telling, happy people, and jolting yourself back to life. Naturally, I don’t think this is a one-size-fits-all prescription, and this little commentary isn’t really meant to summarize all that I got out of, “Quiet.” However, I’d be remiss if I didn’t share these new strategies I’ve found for remaining in touch with joy.

So, dear reader, I ask you: are you more or less an introvert or an extrovert? Whichever you discover, use that information to find your niche, and have a great week of restoration!

Speaking the Language

Once in awhile, we get patients on the hospital unit where I work who do not speak English. This presents a particular challenge, of course, because simple questions like, “Are you in pain?” are not easily understood or answered. Because of the issues that arise with this, we have translators available to come to the room, 24/7, at the hospital where I work. Still, it’s not very practical to have a translator come to the floor every time the call light is ringing, or a meal tray is delivered. (Who wants to wait for 20 minutes for a translator to arrive, just to get an extra pillow or receive food while it’s hot?) Sometimes, I am left to my own devices, using pictures and some modified form of Charades to solve minor issues quickly. It is at these times that I wonder if my caring shows. I wonder if my expression conveys how much I want this patient to feel better, to feel safe in my care, or to be as comfortable as possible.

Yesterday, as a present to myself, I got a pedicure. The gentleman who gave me the pedicure was Asian, and it was apparent very quickly that he did not speak much English. He held up a bottle of polish with a question in his eyes, as if to say, “This color?” Yes. I smiled and nodded. He would smile, or raise his eyebrows in another question, and we somehow communicated… “No, that’s not too hard,” “No, that doesn’t hurt,” “Yes, that spot is sore.” He worked carefully, and I could tell that he was being particular on my behalf.

Researchers disagree on how much of communication is based on actual words, as opposed to body language, expression, and tone or inflection. Some say 40%, some say only 7%. Regardless, it is well accepted that certainly less than half of all communication between humans relies on language. When I consider that, then I am assured that, just as I understood that my pedicurist cared about my comfort, so are my patients able to tell that I care about theirs.

When I am working, I am very careful to monitor my own tone of voice or body language when I enter patients’ rooms. Whether the patient speaks English or not, I never want them to sense my frustration, and I never want them to sense if I do not think they are doing well. Nothing is as frightening to a patient, I think, as seeing their caregiver display a lack of confidence. They want to see concern without worry, confidence without arrogance, and compassion without pity. I wonder, though, if I am as careful with the other people in my life. Do I huff out an exasperated breath that says, “You are such a burden to me,” when I am behind a woman in the express grocery line, because she has more than 15 items? Do I roll my eyes and look away when a co-worker says something with which I disagree, as if to say, “How ridiculous”? Do I give quick, one word answers when I am impatient and ready to move onto something else, conveying, “Your thoughts do not matter to me”?

Yes. I’m afraid I do all of these things, and more. The things that I would never allow myself to express to a patient, or say out loud to anyone, I communicate pretty regularly to friends, colleagues, and people I love. That is not ok. This week, I’m going to monitor all of my own non-verbal cues, and see if what I am “saying” through those cues is what I want people to hear. Chances are, if I’m not able to say those things directly, then it is not. I may never be an expert in “speaking” the language, but I’m going to keep trying to be better at non-verbally communicating that I care, that people matter, and that I mean to treat them kindly.

Word Power

Nazi leaders used it to inspire and mobilize a downtrodden nation. J.F. Kennedy used it to restore our faith in America. Individuals, every day, use it to manipulate, encourage, slander, or praise the people closest to them. As the only animal endowed with the ability to master verbal language, man has been both blessed and cursed with the immense power of speech throughout all of the ages. I wonder sometimes if we have any idea how powerful we actually are, as a result of it.

Florence Scovel-Shinn published a book, “Your Word is Your Wand,” in 1928, which acknowledged and emphasized the immense power of the spoken word, stating, “So, man has the power to change an unhappy condition by waving over it the wand of his word. In the place of sorrow appears joy, in the place of sickness appears health, in the place of lack appears plenty…”

Naturally, the spoken word has the opposite power as well. Take, for example, the very sad story I heard this week about a woman who may have died of a sudden, (stress, not plaque induced) heart attack. At last report, she was in the intensive care unit, not responding. Immediately before the attack, her husband was yelling at her, cursing her, telling her she was stupid and worthless and that he wished she was not with him. Instantly, he received his spoken wish.

Whether the words, themselves, stopped her heart or if the words caused the stress, and the stress then stopped her heart, ultimately, the words came first. Do you see how powerful words can be? Let’s make certain, at least, that we are speaking in such a way that has some chance of producing the responses we want. 

It is one thing to recognize that a situation is not to our liking and, therefore, begin to identify ways to correct it. It is quite another to invent and imagine negative outcomes and speak of them as if they are real. It’s not only that words have the power to shape a child’s self-esteem, or to encourage in times of hopelessness. It is also that words define our reality for us. If you state, for example, that you are “not a morning person,” you give yourself permission to be inconsiderate of others until noon, thus fulfilling your own prophecy.  If you say, “this project will never work,” you will look for the failure points and emphasize them in order to prove that you are correct, whether you realize you are doing that or not.

As it turns out, the childhood retort, “Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me,” just isn’t true. Be careful of your words, this week. Be aware of your dialog and ask yourself, “If I were to receive this (whatever I’m speaking) wish, would it be what I really want?” If the answer is no, change your words. Stop complaining. Speak kindly to others. Speak encouraging words to yourself. And have a lovely and powerful week.

Balancing Act: Praise vs. Criticism

I recently heard an inspiring speech about leadership during which the speaker used Bela Karolyi and Nadia Comaneci as an example of exceptional coaching. (In case you are not old enough to remember, Nadia was the first gymnast to ever receive any perfect score in gymnastics, and Bela was her coach.) The speaker made the point that, after Nadia received seven perfect 10’s in the 1976 Montreal Olympic games, Karolyi did not stop coaching her. The speaker’s point was that the job of a leader is to continue to improve performance, even past perfect, if possible. Perhaps as a result of this, Nadia was able to master some never-before-her moves, like the double-twist dismount.

In contrast to that point is one of the things I talk about in my seminars, which is our inability to enjoy and accept our own achievements. We have a tendency to look for flaws or weaknesses in ourselves and others, always striving to improve, without giving proper credit to what we do well. I think one of the biggest challenges we have as leaders (of ourselves and of others) is to balance those two opposing philosophies. How do we give proper credit to what we do well, (collecting and proudly displaying our own “gold medals,” as it were), and also continue to work toward improvement? How do we celebrate the accomplishments of those we lead, while simultaneously encouraging their diligence in reaching for more?

It’s no revelation that one of our greatest life challenges is to achieve balance. This question of praise versus identification of improvement points is no different. Do you have trouble in one area over another? Do you congratulate and correct others in equal measure? Perhaps more importantly, do you accept congratulations and correction in equal measure? And can you accept an outcome without placing a value judgment on it? Can you say, “This didn’t work as well as I wanted, but next time I will do it another way,” without feeling defeated? (I think of Thomas Edison and his light bulb experiments. It was reported that, when an interviewer asked him if his 2000 failed experiments were discouraging, Edison replied, “I didn’t fail. I found 2000 ways that didn’t work.”) Can you seek improvement without imagining that “room for improvement” implies “failure?”

This week, pay attention to what you did well. Make a list, on Monday, of at least 5 things. They might be things like, “I didn’t cause a traffic accident on the way to work, today,” or “I finished my report on time.” Enjoy them for the week. Then, on Friday, make a list of 5 things you could do differently to improve your outcomes next time, such as, “I will block out 3 hours on my calendar, for two days, instead of using 6 hours in one day to complete my next report.”  Gather your medals, talk about them, display them, and celebrate them. Then keep working, because the joy is in the journey.

Hidden Talents

I just came from a small church service where the worship team was made of only 6 people. As I was singing along to the first song, I was thinking to myself that the music was lovely, but nothing that I would characterize as spectacular. About the time that thought crossed my mind, I became aware of the most beautiful sound. One of the 6 musicians was sitting at the back of the stage, looking down, sitting on a stool, and playing bass. Now the baseline of any song is pretty important, but not very often so amazing that people become known for playing it. Nonetheless, sometimes a bass player is allowed to “riff,” and lay overtop of all the other instruments a lithe, melodic interpretation that highlights that players talent. This was one of those moments, but with none of the fanfare of a typical solo spot. In fact, most of the crowd seemed not to even notice his “solo.”

When I looked back at the musician playing it, I noticed that he sat, himself unmoved, not showboating, not gloating, just working with that bass guitar, as if he were practicing in his own room, not performing at all. When he finished this piece, he went back to playing his more hidden rhythm line, but something had changed. All of players in the group now sounded more cohesive, the two singers more bold, the lead guitar more elegant, the keyboard more graceful, the drums more dynamic. The quality of the music had been elevated, though I doubt anyone playing was conscious of the change. Now, the music truly was spectacular.

What I love most about Nashville is what I think we all love about American Idol, or The Voice, or X-Factor: among the ordinary can be found the extraordinary, virtually hidden, in any given corner. I believe that one of the reasons we are so drawn to the concept of finding “diamonds” amidst all of the other “lumps of coal,” is because we intuitively know that we, each of us, have some hidden, extraordinary talent, just waiting to be discovered. But what if it never is (officially speaking, I mean)?

Some of us go through our days never hearing, “Thank you,” never being recognized for a job well done, and barely even looking up to see if the crowd is paying attention. Yet, our talent, our level of excellence, elevates the work of those around us. We provide support, without even knowing it, by creating an atmosphere where others can shine. We provide the baseline and enjoin our teams simply by doing what we do, to the best of our ability.

I am convinced that any one of those musicians playing could have had that effect on the group, and, no doubt, have done so, at one time or another. Today, I happened to witness it in the bass player, but the truth is that at any time, any one individual can offer his or her talent in such a way as to “raise the bar” for everyone. When any of us do our jobs well simply for the love of the work, or improve ourselves through study or experience, or even just get the proper amount of rest, we set the example for all of us. More importantly, seeing someone excel gives us permission to elevate our own relationships, our own practice, our own self-care, by opening the door to excellence.

You may never be called to the front of the stage, or given an award, or applauded, but I assure you, you do have influence. Please keep sharing with us your talents, however hidden or undiscovered you may feel they are, and know that you are helping to create the spectacular. And, in case you don’t hear it anywhere else this week, Thank You! You inspire me.   

Almost Famous

Hearing of yet another tragic end to an amazing talent, Whitney Houston, made me wonder: what in the world is so attractive about being famous? Theories abound. Tucker Max, author of, “I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell,” states that he believes that fame is our society’s most important indicator of power.[1] Dr. Donna Rockwell, clinical psychologist, suggests that fame is, psychologically speaking, parallel in nearly every way to drug and substance addiction.[2] Presumably, then, the allure of fame is the same as the allure of any drug… I want to feel better, stronger, happier, or, yes, more powerful. Dr. Thomas Plant posits that perhaps our own fear of death and the potential lack of relevance of our lives drive our desire to be known, and thus, to matter in some way to the world.[3]

I think, since I came to Nashville with the hope of being famous, that they are all correct. At some point in my life, having felt powerless and unhappy for long enough, I thought fame would solve my problems. I was drawn to the idea of having people smile at me, wanting to be near me, wanting to hear what I had to say (or sing). I would make friends with the world. And I would have the kind of power that would allow me to request everything from my most idiosyncratic preferences (like J. Lo’s request for Heliotrope scented candles in her dressing rooms), to the most generous of donations (when I would make guest appearances on the Jerry Lewis Labor Day Telethon, of course). Finally, because I knew how short life could be, fame would help to ensure I would not be forgotten.

One characteristic about fame that I want to address, however, is that it’s very subjective. In Nashville, for example, we who care about writing songs all know the name Dave Berg. Unless you are an aficionado of country music, however, the kind that scans CD covers for absolutely every bit of information, you probably don’t know or care that he’s written hits like, “If You’re Going Thru Hell,” “Stupid Boy,” or “What Kind of Gone.” Sure, there are those people who have become world renowned, but most fame is more localized, and often fleeting.

While this might seem like a bad thing, it’s actually one of the best things. If you are looking for fame, that is to say, if you are looking to matter to this world, then remember that your world is exactly that, yours. To someone, you are the most powerful, most liked, most well-known in your field. (Haven’t you ever heard a child ask a complete stranger, “Do you know my dad?” As far as that child is concerned, his dad is famous!) Today, redefine “famous,” to mean having or knowing something that allows you to be heard, makes you feel good, and allows you to realize that you matter. Think of those people who listen when you speak, enjoy when you feel happy, and miss you when they are not with you. To them, you are a Super Star.  

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[1] Interview with S. Kauffman, Psychology Today, http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/beautiful-minds/201107/conversations-creativity-tucker-max.

[2] Rockwell, D. & Giles, D.C. (2009). Being a Celebrity: A phenomenology of fame, Journal of Phenomenological Psychology (40) 178-210.

[3] Plant, T. (2011). Could death anxiety be behind our quest for fame? Psychology Today. http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/do-the-right-thing/201102/could-death-anxiety-be-behind-our-quest-fame

Anticipation

That’s it! I’ve found it… the key to happiness! I am absolutely giddy, and do you know what caused it? You might think it’s because I’m eating Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream, or that my jeans went on a little easier this morning, or that I am on vacation, but none of those things are it. I bought a plane ticket, today! I’m going to the beach!

Isn’t it funny? I’m not in Florida. I’m going to be in Florida. Yep. The anticipation of going to Florida has me reeling. And as any child who has ever looked forward to Christmas morning can tell you, the anticipation of all of the great things to come is what has me most excited. I am anticipating drinking Rum Runners. I am anticipating lying on the beach. I am anticipating feeling that warm shower that I take to wash the sand and salt off my skin, and then cranking the tunes in my condo while I put on my make-up to go out for the evening. My body is practically shaking with joy!

Here is what I know: Christmas morning was never as fun as thinking about Christmas morning was. The movie that everyone said that I absolutely had to see was never as good as I thought it would be. And my vacation will be only three nights long, may or may not include good weather, and could possibly result in a sunburn. Still, I cannot wait! And as long as I am excitedly anticipating something, anything at all, I am about as happy as I’ll ever be. Experiences (good or bad) are the rich and wonderful sensation of being human and alive. Memories are often lovely, if bitter-sweet, and good for my inner tranquility. But the anticipation of fabulous things? Now, that’s where it’s at!

One of the things I talk about in my seminars is vision writing. I encourage people to write what they want their future to be. Part of the motivation for that is because I believe that, in order to get what you want, you have to be clear about what you want. Part of it, though, is because the anticipation of living your own dream life is one of the best ways to remain joyful. Furthermore, research shows that people suffering from depression tend to only anticipate negative future experiences, so the anticipation of positive experiences may just be the key to battling the blues.

This week, I encourage you to plan something. Anticipate something positive. No matter how far in the future you have to plan it in order for it to be believable for you (I always feel good when I review my plan to walk up the driveway to my own writer’s cabin in the mountains, for example, but that’s at least 10 years away…), write about or take the first step toward something wonderful! It’s fun to think about what’s coming, what could be, what might be, what will be... And who among us could not stand a little more fun?

What Are You Willing to Trade?

Oh, my. I just read a news story about a man who enlisted the help of his two friends in order to make $671,000. Their plan? Find a chain saw, strap it to a pole so the friends doing the cutting don’t have to stand too close (wouldn’t want this to get messy…) and use it to cut off the man’s hand. Are you kidding me? Sacrifice a limb for money? And if you do, somehow, manage to allow this to happen, you get what that man received… no hand and a felony charge, including 20 year prison sentence, for insurance fraud.

Although I am horrified by this story, I am not unaware of the fact that each of us face choices like these, every day. Ok, so maybe you’re not trying to decide which of your own eyes you will pluck out in order to collect disability, but you are making decisions that require you to answer, “How far will you go?” And, although some of those questions are about money, (like, “will you trade time with your family to stay later at the office,” or “will you risk $5000 in the stock market, in order to hope to make $10,000?”), some of our trades and choices are about less measurable things. Will you stay with a man who ignores your feelings so that you don’t have to be alone? Will you be less than honest so that your friend’s feelings aren’t hurt? Will you eat the third donut, because they taste really wonderful, eventhough you know you should go for a walk, instead? 

It seems to me that the daily task of decision making boils down to a system of calculations: traded value vs. received value, and risk vs. benefit. Does what we are trading have less value than what we are receiving? In the case of the trading of a hand for a little over $200,000 (remember, the sum they received has to be split over three people), and risking a felony conviction, we might think the answer is a resounding, “No!” For some reason, however, that imbalance wasn’t very clear to the guy in the news story. Just like, in the case of trading the time you could spend eating dinner with your family for more billable hours at the firm, the answer might not be as clear for you.

It makes me wonder which of the choices I make seem obviously imbalanced to others. Could the possible key to all of life be that we should get better at calculating trade values and risk vs. benefit? I would like to invite all of my friends to feel free to help me make these kinds of calculations in my life. And whatever I might say in the future, regardless of what case I make for it, please… never, ever tie a chain saw to a pole and help me cut off my hand.  

Less with More

Less with More

I have some friends who are still in their 20’s & 30’s. They help me remember optimism. When I was that young (and that old), I remember that I had the clarity to realize that the world held every opportunity and that I was completely equipped to take advantage of all of them. I was aware that any decision I made could be reversed if it wasn’t right for me. I could scrap a career and start over, if I wanted. I could have a relationship, decide it wasn’t working, and walk away. Somewhere after I turned 40, however, that perception changed. I started to evaluate myself in a different way, believing that my choices were now more limited, that I needed to have been more “settled” by now, that I needed to have used all of the gifts with which I have been blessed in some more meaningful way. I felt somewhat ashamed to have not made a larger contribution to the world than I had, given that I am so advantaged.

When I shared these thoughts with a friend of mine, he said, “I know what you mean! I’ve done less with more than anybody I know!”

Although he was at least half joking, that statement exactly summarized how I felt. In fact, I wonder if it’s not exactly that sentiment that describes many of our mid-life insecurities, as we scrutinize where we have been, what we have done or not done, and where we may have fallen short. Most of us have been blessed beyond measure with talent, opportunity, kindness, friendships, education, and other advantages too numerous to mention. On some level, we recognize that and cannot believe we haven’t accomplished more. We may also see some of the things that we perceive have held us back in some way, and we have resentments that we may not know how to reconcile or forgive. It’s a constant balancing act between the self-chastising that comes from knowing we “could have, but didn’t” and the victim-thinking of, “if only [someone or something] wouldn’t have sabotaged my efforts.”

I also have some friends who are now in their 50’s & 60’s. They, too, help me remember optimism. They talk to me about their own struggle with this balancing act of self-recrimination and evaluation, and how they have now forgiven themselves and others. They have become settled in their own skin. They have recognized that life is not something that should be evaluated as something we should have “won” by now. They seem to accept that there is always more to be done, that there are always dreams to chase, that there are always going to be limiting factors and road blocks that can be either navigated or removed, and that navigating or removing them is always a choice. My friends who have made it through this challenge of looking around and saying, “Oh! I should have done [something] by now,” and then saying, “It’s ok. I have. And I have not. And I am still alive, so I am still living,” are my inspiration. 

Because I have these friends, the younger ones who inspire me to be wide-eyed and excited about what the world has to offer, the “my-age” friends who “get me,” and the things that vex me, and my older friends who teach me to enjoy the relaxed comfort of settling into my own life and stride, I think I might just avert my “Mid-Life Crisis,” and simply have a mid-life. And today I have recognized that, of all of the “more,” I’ve been given, the most important of these things has been these diverse friends who help me dream, see, and enjoy. Thank you to all of you! Be with your friends, this week, and enjoy wherever you are on your life’s journey… it is both full of promise and excitement, and also waiting to be simply lived.

On Time

Hello! Did you miss me last Sunday? I took the week off, but it wasn’t intentional. Actually, I didn’t realize the week had even come and gone, until a friend of mine pointed out that I had not posted anything. It wasn’t until then that I realized time had simply gotten away from me. That realization made me wonder: what did I do with my time? Did I make any progress? Were any of my goals met? Was either my comfort or joy enhanced? Or was I just like a circus performer, spending time trying to keep multiple plates spinning on different sticks at one time, with no real objective other than to say, “Look at me! See how much I can do at once?”

In this life when options seem countless and priorities are in constant competition, how do you decide how to spend your time? Is it more important during a given hour to serve your spirit, taking time for meditation and prayer, or more important to serve your relationships, meeting a friend for coffee? Or should you work on your career, putting in one more hour at the office? Maybe you should focus on your health and make a stop at the gym… And once you decide, for example, to spend an hour focusing on your finances, how do you decide what is most important within that subset of potential demands? Will you be working on your tax return? Paying bills? Reviewing your investments? Writing a budget?

I wonder if this is why, because it’s so difficult to determine which of the things competing for our attention actually deserve our time, we resort to living from deadline to deadline. I think that, more often than me choosing how to spend my time, Time, that is to say, the days circled in red on my calendar, determine for me what I will be doing next. It is an absolutely crazy-making way to live.

Today I’m going to use my time, just a bit of it, to revisit my own life plan. I need to make certain that the things I am doing with my time are things that actually allow me to experience this life in the ways I choose. Sure, some of my time has to be spent in foundation building and completing basic chores, but if I don’t recognize which of those things are part of my own life vision, and start saying, “No, thank you,” to the things that don’t enhance that, time is just going to fly past me. I’m going to stop just cramming more into the day, and start recognizing which part of my best-life-plan is being served by the time I’m spending.

So, what about the time I’m spending writing this blog? Well, as it turns out, it’s a very economical usage of minutes. I get to commune with my friends (especially if you’d like to share your thoughts with me in return), spend a moment with my spirit as I re-evaluate my own struggles and passions, and practice my favored career choice of being a writer. That’s a lot of my own life vision being lived in one little activity. So, how about you? How would you like to spend your time, today? This week? This year? This fabulous lifetime?

Trash Baskets

My mom forwarded me an email that was full of the prayers of little children. One four-year-old was saying the Lord’s prayer, and prayed, “Forgive us our trash baskets, as we forgive those who put trash in our baskets.”

Deep.

It made me wonder how many trash baskets I was carrying around with me. Different than your average “baggage,” which might be bad enough, my trash baskets actually contain things that I have recognized as useless (like old psychological wounds, or a negative self-image… that kind of thing) and, therefore, discarded. Instead of walking away, however, I just picked up the whole basket to carry with me, as if I might need to sort through it and retrieve something, at some point. How many thoughts, self-concepts, worries of things long since passed, do I drag around in some invisible, but no less burdensome trash basket?

And what of the people who have added things to my baskets over the years? The garbage they tossed my way that soiled my self-esteem or made my load a little heavier, which made my life a little messier… Did they mean to use my basket? Or were they, more likely, just trying to rid themselves of the trash that they too were carrying? And how much of my own trash have I relocated into someone else’s basket, inadvertently or otherwise?

It seems reasonable to ask for forgiveness for this. Mostly because, in carrying around a bunch of old trash, we essentially deprive ourselves of a lightened journey. How are we to live in joy, to enjoy this playground that is life with all of the blessings and gifts life has to offer, if we are focused on keeping track of old trash and monitoring the trash others put in our baskets?

I think I like this analogy because it’s easy for me to picture myself digging through my old trash. And that envisioning makes it easy to just stop rooting and gathering and carrying, because it seems almost ridiculous to dig through old trash. So, please forgive me my trash baskets. They’ve gotten in the way. And forgive me, too, if I’ve ever put anything in your trash basket. Let’s just stop dragging them around, shall we?

The Key to Success

In Tom Rath’s, “Strengths Finder, 2.0,” which is a book I’ve mentioned before, he gives clear descriptions of 34 different strengths. One of them is Empathy, which is to say: easily imagining what others might be thinking or feeling. It seems to me that having this particular trait might be a key component to Living in Joy. In fact, much of the advice on careers, relationships, finances, and even spirituality that I’ve read or studied over the years seems to be rooted in the very concept of empathy.

Steven Covey in “7 Habits of Highly Effective People,” for example, chooses to devote two of his seven concepts to empathy. Habit 4 is, “Think Win/Win,” and Habit 5 is, “Seek First to Understand, Then to be Understood.” Simon Sinek, inspirational leader, talks about “Starting with Why,” which is a success strategy that is founded on the principle that successful leaders communicate by beginning with the empathetic question, “What motivations do you have?” Moms all over the world have repeated the mantra, “Treat others how you would like to be treated,” which really means that we, first, have to understand how we would like to be treated if we were that other person, with all of that person’s unique motivations, fears, concerns, history and habits.

If practicing empathy will increase our effectiveness, strengthen our relationships, and enable us to experience more satisfaction with life, then the remaining question is: how do we train ourselves to be empathetic?

First, we have to recognize that there is another person involved. Each of us is so entrenched in our own goals and wants that it’s extremely difficult to pull ourselves out of the loop, “What am I not getting? When will it be my turn?” Empathy means looking for what the other person perceives he or she is not getting, in order to understand his/her motivations. If people are resistant to you, you can bet it is because they fear not getting what they need. When you view the world from their perspective, you can help them alleviate that fear, so that you can work together to get what you both want.

Second, we have to ask ourselves, “How does what I want/need conflict with what this other person wants/needs? How does this person perceive it conflicts, even if we actually want the same results? How might I adjust my process to help this person meet his/her needs, while also meeting my own?”

Third, we have to look past the obvious demand and get to the deeper motivation. If I want to go out to dinner with my spouse, for example, and he wants to stay home and sit on the couch, how do we both get what we want? The key is to look for the objectives we each have. I want to go on a “date” with him. He wants to unwind and relax in the comfort of home. Those are the immediate demands. However, if what both of us want, as our final objective, is more intimacy, we can turn off the TV, cater-in dinner (however humble), light candles, and relax on a “date” in the living room. It may sound like compromising, but really, meeting both persons’ objectives is a “win-win,” not a compromise.

It’s not always easy. It’s work to examine and re-evaluate a seemingly simple, “I want.” It’s especially difficult to be empathetic enough to see why our “I want” is not immediately met with an, “Of course, dear.” But it’s worth it. In fact, living empathetically, at least according to nearly every great thinker I’ve ever studied, is the absolute key to successful relationships, in your home, in business, and anywhere else other people share your space.