Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.
Earlier this week I was perusing my Nextdoor website for recommendations for some housework that we need to have done. I believe that this was the original intention of Nextdoor, as it focuses on one particular community, usually within a 20 mile radius. Unfortunately, though, like almost all social media websites, our Nextdoor has also become a political fight, “mask vs. anti-mask”, “vax vs. anti-vax” nesting ground, among other heated, controversial topics, both local and national. I usually avoid these posts, as if they were the most contagious variant of the coronavirus out there, but I somehow got curious about a particular post written by a neighbor named John Guidi, that was noted as the day’s most popular post. It turned out to be a well-written, hilarious, sarcastic post, starting with this line:
“Political posts: If you feel you must make controversial posts on this board, please adhere to the following guidelines:”
Here were some of the guidelines:
5. Make sure to condemn somebody in every post.
8. Try to offend as many people as possible.
11. Always attempt to be very defensive.
15. No matter what someone else posts, always try to find fault with it.
17. State and restate the obvious.
I honestly read the post with glee and apparently so did many others in our neck of the woods, as it had over 200 likes and “thank yous” and smiley faces attached to the post, and 177 comments, comments which turned out to be a lot more of the usual back-and-forth, righteous, “rule” additions, posturing at the podium, etc.
I then took a look at the second most popular post of the day, which turned out to be a mother sincerely asking for recommendations for a local therapist for her adolescent son, who is suffering from depression. Her post showed earnest concern and desperation. Her name and her picture and her neighborhood, were all published on the post. And the beautiful thing is that the people who answered and commented on her post, were so kind and loving and honest about their own struggles and situations. She got dozens of recommendations and many tender and hopeful and caring posts, sending love and prayers for her comfort and for her son’s recovery. I got a lump in my throat thinking about how courageous it was for this mother to publicly admit that she needed some help. And the people of my neighborhood and surrounding areas could not have been more kind and understanding, and thoughtful and compassionate with the posts that they wrote to answer her plea. She wrote a sincere “thank you” post more than once throughout the Comments section.
Wow. That’s when I got my own personal “a-ha” moment. As well written as the first post was, it really wasn’t any different in tone, than so many of the biased political posts that we are besieged with, on social media today. Reading the first post and agreeing with it, I realized that right at that moment, I, myself, was in my own high-and-mighty, judgmental, “I am smarter/wiser than”, smirky, condescending ego mindset. It felt “good” and yet not good, all at the same time. Reading the second post, I was humbled. Being a mother, I felt so much empathy for the fear that we mothers feel when we can’t protect and heal our own children, all by ourselves. I felt so much admiration for that mother and equally, I felt so much gratefulness that my community responded like it did, with concern and support and hopefulness. I suspect that the people who answered her, came from many different backgrounds, political and otherwise. Reading her post and the responses to it, was affirming to me. I felt good. Just good. I felt connected to everybody in my neighborhood, not just the people who share my beliefs.
