Tuesday’s Tidbits

+ 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?

Museday-Tuesday

+ The sun’s light looks a little different on this wall than it does on that wall, and a lot different on this other one, but it’s still one light. We have borrowed these clothes, these time and place personalities, from a light, and when we praise, we’re pouring them back in.
– Rumi

This week, instead of looking for things to criticize and to critique, let’s look for what’s to praise. Let’s pour the light back in, this week. When we pour light into something, we illuminate it. And illumination helps us to truly see the full scope of everything, and to understand.

 + Speaking of “different”, a spotless baby giraffe was born at a Tennessee zoo recently. She’s spotless! She’s not albino, she’s all brown. This baby giraffe is believed to be the only spotless giraffe alive in the world today. The zoo is holding a naming contest for her:

“the naming contest list to four choices: Kipekee, which means unique; Firyali, which means unusual or extraordinary; Shakiri, which means “she is most beautiful”; and Jamella, which means “one of great beauty.”

Those aspects which each of us have, that make us unique to anyone else, is our own special brand of “kipekee/firyali/shakiri/jamella”. Show off your own “kfsj”. When you’re purely yourself, you’re spotless!

+ Do you remember when almost all writers had pen names? I decided this weekend that if I ever decide to use a pen name it’s going to be “Anole Dogsmile”. It came to me this weekend. It started when I had that uncomfortable feeling you get when someone is staring at you, and I finally noticed that what was staring at me was a tiny, little, newborn anole. He was sitting on the screen behind me, just holding his ground, and staring me down, and around that same time, I glanced at Ralphie, our Labrador retriever, and I had an epiphany that all three of our dogs’ lips naturally turn upwards. They are almost always smiling, and then I thought about it and I realized that most dogs have this same trait. Dogs not only smile with their tails, but they were born with natural perma-grins (much like dolphins). So if you ever pick up a book by “Anole Dogsmile”, that’s me.

+ I read an interesting expose by Donna Cunningham about the difference between two different kinds of “guilt.” One type of guilt is true guilt. This is the guilt that you were designed to feel when you have done something against your own moral code: such as steal, cheat, lie, etc. This type of guilt is used as a healthy course correction. You feel true guilt in order to get yourself back on track, and to perhaps even make amends to people you may have hurt. True guilt tends to dissipate quickly after you change your actions. The other kind of guilt, is more of an emotional manipulation/power play that is unfortunately a frequent transaction in our society. We use it, and others use it on us, to get people to do what we want them to do. This is not healthy, “true guilt.” This is an unhealthy, passive-aggressive/emotional power trip, which often leads to holding resentment. Resentment is as dangerous to our bodies as toxins and pollutants. Built up resentment makes you feel like your insides are being eaten up. When you are feeling the emotion of “guilt”, ask yourself, “What have I done wrong?” Disappointing someone for not doing what they want you to do, is not doing something wrong. Why are anybody else’s feelings/needs more important than yours? You should not do things out of FOG – fear/obligation/guilt (the unhealthy guilt) nor worry that if you don’t do what they want, you’ll be abandoned. You may sometimes choose to do things that you don’t necessarily want to do, with the awareness that you are making this choice, not out of FOG, but out of kindness and consideration. You haven’t given your power away when you make a conscious choice. What is the remedy to the unhealthy kind of guilt? (Cunningham defines unhealthy guilt like this: “Guilt is resentment turned inward . . . (it) is no more than secret resentment of unwanted obligation.) The remedy is essentially, to grow up. Own your own life and your own power. Be cognizant of your own needs and your responsibility to your own adult life, and for meeting your own needs. Learn to be comfortable with sometimes disappointing others, and be respectful of others’ right to say “no” to you (don’t just manipulatively “give to get”). Healthy, wholesome, true adult relationships are based on love and mutual respect for the other’s right to live their own lives as they see fit. A true relationship is not based on fear, obligation and guilt. A true, loving, healthy relationship is based on respect and autonomy and mutual affection and honesty. As Cunningham says, “Resentment alienates us from our fellow man. Guilt alienates us from ourselves.”

Are you passing on love or are you passing on pain? Heal your pain and pass on love.