Is this the best I can do?

Last week it really started getting to me: The disconnect between the intense pain and fear that I'm seeing and reading about, and my own home-bound reality that is frankly pretty comfortable right now.

Comfortable, that is, except for a growing frustration that I have nothing to offer that will make a difference to this pandemic.

I don't have any N95 masks. Don't have any training in medicine or public health. Don't have a factory that can produce hand sanitizer. Don't have a big bank account to fund things that need to be funded, or even support the local businesses that I wish I could support.

Is the best I can do to stay home, turn off the news, hunker down with my little family, and just try to stay kind and sane while the storm hopefully passes us by?

No, I don't think so. In fact, I think that is a recipe for misery.

I can't pretend I'm not connected to what's happening "out there." I can't pretend not to care. But I also need to figure out what my contribution is. 

One thing a lot of people have been suggesting lately is to make phone calls. Not just to friends and family, but to other people, too, who could use someone (or someone new) to talk to.

This is an idea I've appreciated in theory, but so far done very little of. Picking up the phone and calling -- even if it's someone I know and like! -- has always been scary for me. I worry about burdening people, interrupting them, calling at an inappropriate time....

I think this is a perfect opportunity to get over myself and practice what I preach.

If medical professionals can work double shifts under scary conditions to share their gifts, the least I can do is pick up the phone and humbly offer mine. So that is what I'm going to do this week. At least three calls a day, ideally more.

I'll let you know next week what comes of it.

In the meantime, I'd love to hear from you. What needs are you seeing? Where might your own gifts fit in? What have you been proud of these past few weeks? Share below!

On being an "expert"

For much of my life I've had "expert" confused with "know it all"... which has left me very conflicted in my desire to become an expert.

After all, who wants to be like that?

Recently, though, my understanding of being an expert shifted to one that I am actually excited and grateful to embrace. This week's video explains:

Recording it also reminded me of this blog post that I wrote years ago with observations from our local roller-skating rink that still feel relevant.

I love the idea of a true expert being someone who has gone through the "know it all" phase and emerged on the other side, still with valuable knowledge and skills, but no longer afraid of being wrong, threatened by contradictory opinions, or needing to prove anything.

Perhaps people go back and forth from "know it all" to expert multiple times, as they expand and deepen their expertise.

Where in your life do you feel like an expert? Can you think of areas where are you still trying to prove yourself? What does (or would) being an expert look and feel like to you?

Texting for humanity

A friend recently told me about a texting switchboard called Text for Humanity. 

The idea is that once you join (for free), you can text a positive message to a stranger at any time, and get a positive message from another stranger in return.

I signed up a few days ago and have sent and received three messages so far:

From me to someone: All that emotion you feel? It's because you care. And caring is a beautiful thing. Thank you for how much you care.

From Andrea to me: You are the only person that can control your happiness and success! Be all that you can be! You are amazing! I hope you have a great day!

From me to someone: Don't forget to breathe. Like real, deep breaths. You deserve that peace. You deserve that clarity. You deserve to know your own wisdom.

From Jenni to me: Make today so awesome, yesterday gets jealous!

From me to someone: Whatever it is, you can get through it. And not only survive, but thrive. You were born for the greatness that is on the other side.

From Ginyah to me: You are important, beautiful, smart and worth more than you realize. Smile and enjoy your day.

I could imagine someone thinking, quite reasonably, that this is totally ridiculous. I don't know these people, and they don't know anything about me. How could words delivered to a random stranger make any difference? 

Indeed, if I'm honest, there wasn't anything very magical for me about these exchanges. I thought the messages were sweet, and it was fun to be surprised, but I didn't have any of those, "WOW, that was JUST what I needed to hear right now!" kinds of moments.

Still, I am kind of smitten with the concept.

Not because it's likely that other people's specific words will make a difference for me, but because it gives me an easy opportunity to practice asking for and receiving help. Perhaps even more importantly, it invites me to access my own love and compassion, and generate for myself the words I need to hear. 

The fact that they also get delivered to someone else is, it seems to me, just a secondary bonus. And a reminder that we are not alone in our human need for encouragement, care and connection.

What do you think? Do you have any interest in trying this out?

If you could give yourself (or someone else) a 160-character pep talk today, what would it be? I’d love to hear.

Not partisan, but still political

When I started the Signs of Kindness project last August, the goal came to me easily and automatically: I wanted signs in all 50 states before the 2020 election.

I had that goal posted on my website for several weeks, and then replaced it with 25 states by Thanksgiving (a goal that I met). And then all 50 states by the end of 2019 (which I totally did not meet).

One reason for replacing the original goal was that November 2020 felt too far away, and I didn't want to wait that long. I thought I could reach 50 states a lot sooner if I really focused and hustled.

The other reason, though, was that I started getting nervous that too many people would see the election tie-in and assume that the project is a partisan thing. Which it's not.

The last thing I want is for people to start using my messages as yet another us/them, right/wrong, good/bad way to divide us. But today I'm re-instating my original goal despite that risk, because I need to acknowledge that my messages are political.

They're political not as in partisan, but rather related to our collective welfare. My goal is not just to help soothe individuals with personal reminders of love, worth, and belonging, but also to change how we think and talk about one another, at all levels of society.

How else can we address the complex collective challenges we are facing in any meaningful or productive way?

I hope that officially re-linking my 50-state goal to the upcoming election will help inspire more of the important public conversations that I believe we are ready to have. And I trust that it will be worth the risk of some misunderstanding along the way.

As of yesterday, there are just 17 states that don't have at least one Sign of Kindness:

There are also several outstanding requests for sign funding from individuals and schools in Minnesota, Connecticut, and Massachusetts. And there is some bonus sign funding available for the first signs in Nevada and Idaho.

Links to the key information, including how to purchase, can be found here. There is also a shareable Facebook post here.

In the spirit of humble giving, please don't feel obligated to participate in any way that doesn't feel good and right to you. But do know that anything you do to nudge this along will be received with deep gratitude

THANK YOU!

What was your life SUPPOSED to look like?

This week I’ve got a video blog that I hope will be helpful for people who sometimes suffer guilt or blame about the past, or are ashamed of their current situation.

Maybe it is okay to have areas where you consistently struggle. Maybe nothing actually went wrong. Maybe it’s in the struggle where you find your greatest gifts.

The Qualities of a Humble Gift

The word "humble" has been on my mind a lot lately. I wrote this blog post about it a few weeks ago, and now it’s back again as part of the title of a month-long program in February called 29 Days of Humble Giving. I really like both the program and the title. It's about each one of us intentionally offering a humble gift every day, and seeing what kind of magic we can create.

Here are the four characteristics I came up with for what counts for me as a humble gift:

• The gift is voluntary. In other words, I don’t have to do it. No one would miss it or begrudge me if I didn’t. I’d be totally justified in not doing it, but I choose to anyway.

• It’s about the other person. I notice them, care about them, am curious about them. I want them to be happy and well, and hope that my gift will contribute to that.

• There are no strings attached. I don’t need the other person to respond in a particular way in order for the gift to feel worth it. The action is complete and satisfying in and of itself, even if I’m ultimately disappointed by the outcome.

• It makes me feel good. Lighter. More expansive. Closer and more connected to the person, better about myself, and more at ease in the world.

That's pretty good energy to be putting out into the world every day, don't you think?

What gifts have you been meaning to give?

I spent a lot of time decluttering this past week, and in doing so, came across a journal from 2014 in which I documented a series of daily gifts I gave, inspired by Cami Walker's book, 29 Gifts: How a Month of Giving Can Change Your Life.

Every day for about three months, I gave people candy, money, meals, cards, flowers, favors, and other surprises that came to mind. One of the "rules" was that the gifts were all to be authentic and mindful -- not given just to check a box, but with a true spirit of goodwill and generosity -- and it felt wonderful to do.

Not only is it rewarding to be part of other people's joy, but each action also made me feel a little more worthy of, and grateful for, the many gifts that I was offered during that time. It was a beautiful thing to experience!

When I ended my formal commitment to the daily giving practice, I thought that I would naturally continue giving in a similar way. And to some extent, I have. But it hasn't been as consistent, and I'm aware of many small-but-meaningful things I easily could have done recently, but chose not to.

Those missed opportunities have come with a cost. Just like giving a gift builds joy and confidence, I notice that every time I avoid giving one, it makes me feel a little smaller and less powerful. And it doesn't help anyone around me either. That is not at all how I want to live!

All this has me thinking about offering a program next month where we commit to 29 days of daily gift-giving, inspired by Cami's book. 

That card you've been meaning to send? The meal you've been intending to deliver? The phone call you've been wanting to make? This would be your chance! Both to make good on your intentions, and see what else you could do to bring more joy to yourself and others.

I'm still putting together the specifics, but start thinking about whether you'd like to participate.

Who might you give to? What kinds of things might you give? What difference could it make?

If you have any comments or suggestions, just leave them below.

(And be sure to subscribe to my weekly newsletter, or join the Facebook group, if you want to be notified when this program opens.)

Thanks!!

The difference between humility and humiliation

In my workshops, I often use a special set of connection cards with single words on them: Love, Peace, Happiness, Confidence, Courage, and many more.

I invite people to choose the virtues they are drawn to, want to experience more of, or hope to cultivate within themselves, as a launching point for self-reflection and conversation.

Not all of these cards are equally popular. One of the least frequently chosen is humility.

I wonder why that is. Is it a word that makes people think of being small, weak, or less than? Does it bring to mind the arrogance of people we want to see brought down a notch? Maybe it sounds a bit too much like humiliation? 

If so, I can see why people would steer away. But it's too bad, because I think humility, in its truest sense, is a wonderful thing to experience. It feels simultaneously joyful, comforting, connecting, and liberating.

I recently came up with a distinction between humility and humiliation that I like a lot. Both have the same Latin origin, and have to do with our imperfections and limitations. The difference comes from how we see our imperfect selves in relation to others. 

Humility becomes available when we remember that everyone has imperfections and limitations (and amazing qualities too, of course). There is no us/them, better/worse, worthy/unworthy... it is all just people. When humble, we know that any quality we recognize in another person, lives inside of us too. We see ourselves as part of the group, sharing in a common humanity, even as our personal expressions are unique.

When we feel separated from the rest of humanity, though, having imperfections and limitations revealed becomes humiliation. We see ourselves not as flawed human beings just like everyone else, but flawed in some unique and awful way that can leave us feeling lonely, unworthy, and unwanted. It's not the truth, but it feels that way, until we start feeling connected again.

It's so interesting to me that the same exact situation can feel either humbling or humiliating, depending on our perspective.

I like how my Signs of Kindness project has been a way to help nudge us toward that humble remembering of our connection. It is a reminder that you — all of you, and me, too — are lovable and important, regardless of our quirks or flaws or demographics.

What do you do to maintain your own sense of humble connection to the people around you? What helps you do it? And what helps you find your way back when you feel humiliated?

I’d love to hear your thoughts!

A blessing for the new year

In this season of goal-setting and resolutions for the new year, this is the sign I currently have in my yard:

It is okay not to know

I love this reminder, especially right now.

It is okay to want something, and not know how you're going to get it.

It is also okay not to know exactly what you want.

It is okay to think you know, and find out you were wrong.

It is okay not to be fully in control of what happens. To take action despite your uncertainty. To keep uncovering your own ignorance.

In other words, to be alive.

In this year ahead, may you feel that aliveness. And may it lead you exactly where you want to go.

I like you just the way you are

I didn't appreciate Fred Rogers when I was a kid. I thought his show was "babyish" and that I had no need for his gentle words of kindness and affirmation.

My how I've changed since then.

This weekend I went to see It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, with Tom Hanks playing Mr. Rogers, and it was just what my grown-up heart needed. The example of a flawed human being with a temper, who nevertheless practiced being present with, and extending love to, people every day. I left that theater wanting to be much more like him.

I like you just the way you are, he used to say.

In this world of striving and performing and worrying and evaluating, those words of unconditional acceptance can be transformative.

It seems a little counter-intuitive to our typical way of thinking: If we offer imperfect people unconditional acceptance, what incentive will they have to improve? Won't it keep them from growing? Heck, aren't we obligated to put conditions on our approval, so they don't stay stagnant?

No. We're not.

The nature of life itself is to change. We couldn't stop it if we tried. People have an internal drive to learn and grow that has nothing to do with our acceptance or approval. I'd even say that the more unconditional our love, the easier it is for people to follow that call to grow and change, because they know they'll still be accepted, no matter what.

"I like you just the way you are" isn't about the details of the present moment, but about the essence of the person. It says, "I like who you've been, who you are, who you will be -- and more than that, the underlying YOU that is alive in your body."

Who among us doesn't want to be seen and honored that way?

Since watching the movie, I've been extending that sentiment toward myself a lot more often, and it's felt fantastic.

As the new year approaches, may you experience the same grace.