+ Yesterday I received the sweetest text that I have gotten in a long time. It was a really kind, unusual, thoughtful compliment, out of nowhere, from a friend whom I haven’t seen in a while. It made my day! It made me want to do the same for other people. Don’t hesitate. Use this blurb as a nudge from the Universe to reach out and send some love to the first person who comes to mind. You won’t regret it. It’s the little things and kindnesses that keep our humanity afloat. Love makes the world go ’round.
+ I just read a really good interview that the author Cheryl Strayed did with another New York Times best selling author, Steve Almond. It was filled with good excerpts, but here are a few that I found to be interesting and sometimes relatable. Steve Almond’s words are the ones in italics.
“That’s often how you know a piece of advice is useful: the inconsolable urge to tell the advice-giver to f*ck off.” (This is so true, isn’t it? If there is a thread of truth in a piece of advice that we get, it tends to trigger us. If the advice doesn’t apply, we can easily dismiss it or laugh it off.)
“. . . .becoming less of an a**hole. That’s what therapy did for me. I woke up to the various ways in which I was being inconsiderate to other people—and to myself.” (Therapy can be incredibly useful, when you are in a humble state of really wanting to make changes, instead of just wanting, and hopelessly waiting for everyone else to change.)
“A couple of years ago, I was taking a walk with my teenage daughter. It was winter. Beside us, the Mystic River was sheathed in a plain of gray ice. I don’t remember what we were discussing, only that, at some point, she turned to me and said, “Dad, you’re like this guy who’s always walking on thin ice. But underneath that ice is a lake of rage.”
It was the single most devastating, and precise, assessment of my personality ever rendered. I wanted to drop to my knees—in awe and gratitude. And I’ve spent every day since thinking about what I can do to drain that lake of rage, which can be properly understood as a lake of poison.
Mostly, that’s consisted of me trying to shift from reaction to reflection. That is: to recognize when I feel the lake start bubbling and to ask myself: What’s going on here? Why am I being triggered? What pain or doubt or fear am I concealing?
I’m not suggesting that I’m walking around in some state of grace. Far from it. But I am in the process of trying to identify when and why I feel wronged. There are moments when I need to speak up (to stop walking on thin ice). But there are far more moments when my contempt is simply a way of hiding my vulnerabilities behind grievance.“
(Personally, I think by middle age, it is quite common to encounter many people walking on thin ice, and underneath them, lakes of rage. I think by middle age, many people realize that they haven’t lived a life true to themselves and the waters underneath them churn with anger and resentment and regret. The remedy is to thicken the ice, by being more true and authentic to yourself, going forward. When you love and trust yourself to tend to your own best care, it’s much easier to extend your kindness and grace to others.)
“Our job in life is to esteem who we are and what we’re doing. I don’t mean by this that we should just give ourselves a big hug and pretend that solves all our problems. But I do think that people tend to be too hard on themselves, and that this self-loathing inevitably gets inflicted on the folks around us.
I see this as a writing teacher, too. It’s the reason my new book has such an awkwardly aphoristic title. Over and over, I find myself encountering students who are, in one way or another, blocked when it comes to telling the truth—about their own experiences, and that of their fictional characters. The reason they’re blocked is because they felt guilty about breaking a long-held silence, fearful of the reaction they might receive, ambivalent about all the emotional disruption that comes with writing into deep truth. I tell them that the only path forward is through mercy. If they write with the intention of understanding, and forgiving, everyone involved, they’re going to travel further into the truth.
So I stand by that advice, especially for writers.“
Steve Almond’s latest book is Truth is the Arrow, Mercy is the Bow: A DIY Manual for the Construction of Stories.
+“We want to be present to the beauty of our life, not the story of it.” – Ashwini Narayanan
This is an important quote. We tend to start telling ourselves stories about what is happening right in the moment. We start with the labels and the judgments and the categorization and comparisons (I wish I had a dollar for everytime I said, “This reminds me of . . . . ugh!), and instead of just feeling our feelings, we start telling ourselves more stories about why we are feeling what we are currently feeling. The next time that you are having a beautiful moment, and you catch yourself narrating it, in that very moment, tell the inner narrator to “hush”. You will best be able to vividly remember the moments and then later tell stories about them, only if you allow yourself to fully be present for the instantaneous “beauty” of living your life, in each and every moment.
Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Here is the question of the day from 3000 Questions About Me:
896. What is the coolest nickname you’ve ever heard for someone?