A Lady asked an old street vendor: “How much do you sell your eggs for?” The old man replied“0.50¢ an egg, madam.” The Lady responded, “I’ll take 6 eggs for $2.00 or I’m leaving.” The old salesman replied, “Buy them at the price you want, Madam. This is a good start for me because I haven’t sold a single egg today and I need this to live.”
She bought her eggs at a bargain price and left with the feeling that she had won. She got into her fancy car and went to a fancy restaurant with her friend. She and her friend ordered what they wanted. They ate a little and left a lot of what they had asked for. So they paid the bill, which was $150. The ladies gave $200 and told the fancy restaurant owner to keep the change as a tip.
This story might seem quite normal to the owner of the fancy restaurant, but very unfair to the egg seller. The question it raises is;
Why do we always need to show that we have power when we buy from the needy?
And why are we generous to those who don’t even need our generosity?
I once read somewhere that a father used to buy goods from poor people at a high price, even though he didn’t need the things. Sometimes he paid more for them. His children were amazed. One day they asked him “why are you doing this dad?” The father replied: “It’s charity wrapped in dignity.”
Being A Caring Catalyst won’t cost you anything but it’ll make you richer than any lottery winning. Invest in what compounds by one kind moment to the next one and it’ll no longer be about mere facts and figures, because it’ll figure much more than any known fact. . . .
MAKE SURE YOUR CUP OF KINDNESS
IS ALWAYS FULL ENOUGH
FOR ANOTHER GULP
SO THAT OTHERS
MAY DRINK DEEPLY
WITH A QUENCHING
THAT’LL NEVER KNOW
ANY OTHER THIRST. . .
MY SAVIOR COMPLEX
DO UNTO OTHERS AS YOU’D LIKE TO BE DONE UNTO YOU. . .RIGHT
Or better,
DO UNTO OTHERS AS THEY REALLY WANT DONE UNTO THEM. . .
I mean these are really great aspirations for yourself
FOR OTHERS
. . .or are they the worst?
it’s real close to liking you to break open the
Butterfly Cocoon
before it’s ready
. . .seemingly to make it easier
But actually doing it the most harm ever. . .
THE SAVIOR COMPLEX
I’ve always had one
and thought it noble
and even sometimes wore it as a
Badge of Honor
until I saw I was actually doing more harm
than any kind of well intended
G O O D
so when an article about SAVIOR COMPLEXING comes across my attention
I SOAK IT UP
and ok, fine, here’s the truest of true Confessions:
I end up making this Complex even more
C O M P L E X I N G
and yet, I read on and invite you to do the same now with this article from a recent Psychology Today by Mark Travers, Ph.D., an American psychologist with degrees from Cornell University and the University of Colorado Boulder.
3 Ways to Control the Urge to Save
Everyone. . .
Dr. Travers shares that many people come to therapy troubled by their inability to help someone in need. They may say things like:
- “Why do I always feel attracted to people who have had lots of troubles in life?”
- “I make every sacrifice possible to help him, but he still doesn’t change.”
- “If I’m constantly trying to change my significant other for the better, does that mean I’m not accepting of them?”
If you relate to any of these questions, you may have a savior complex. At first glance, your behaviors might point to your helpful nature. But, when examined more closely, your savior complex can be psychologically unhealthy as it can give you an external outlet to focus on instead of addressing your own problems.
Helpfulness is a valued and pro-social trait, but there is a difference between helping and saving. A savior complex goes beyond our ability to help people, crossing into the realm of trying to be a hero in someone else’s life for your benefit more than theirs.
Here I’ll talk about three ways you can manage your instinct to want to “save” people.
1. Practice active listening
When people confide in you, they are often looking for an outlet to let out pent-up emotions instead of wanting to “be fixed.” A big problem for many “saviors” is the mistaken assumption that people are incapable of solving their own issues. If you take up the practice of listening more actively, you may learn that this person is perhaps just looking for a supportive shoulder and someone who will listen.
A study published in the Journal of Positive Psychology finds that listening carefully and attentively increases the level of humility in any conversation, resulting in a positive feedback loop of increased humility and better listening.
Here are two ways to up your listening skills, according to the researchers:
- Don’t be afraid of silence. Silent moments are essential for building a good conversation. Allow yourself to be silent to enable the other person to speak. For instance, when a friend comes to you with a problem, aim to understand rather than immediately reply. Instead, watch for their body language, which speaks volumes (e.g., tensed shoulders may express fear or hesitation).
- Believe in the benefits of listening. Familiarize yourself with the benefits of listening. This will motivate you to become a better listener.
2. Wait it out before stepping in
Aside from practicing active listening, resist your urge to intervene. You may find that people can often come to their own aid when helping themselves is the only real way out.
If you try to be the fixer of all their problems, you run the risk of unintentionally pushing them towards a sense of learned helplessness, where they lose the perspective to be able to diagnose and address their own issues.
When a loved one comes to you with an issue, refrain from offering assistance or suggestions right off the bat. Remind yourself that you can be present for someone without having to rescue them. Instead, you can offer validation that shows that you understand and empathize with them and are there for them whenever they need to vent.
3. Hold in your urge to help until you are asked for it
One key aspect of the savior complex is the ingrained desire to help even when it’s not wanted or requested. Assuming that the other person is incapable of helping themselves may reflect or be perceived as a superiority complex on your end.
Instead, you can offer assistance in low-pressure ways that keeps the ball in their court. For instance, ask the other person questions like, “This situation seems quite tough. Is there any way I can help?”
Follow their guidance if they ask you to help in a certain way instead of assuming that you know what’s best.
Now READING and Article and even remotely trying to implement it makes not an expert but. . .
It’s a beginning (a g a i n)
Managing your savior instincts may seem difficult at first, but it’s a learnable skill. Even though you may believe you are doing someone a favor, saving someone who doesn’t want to be saved may backfire. Wait until this person asks for your assistance since it’s likely that someone who truly needs it will ask you for it directly.
And remember
Even as you’re Reaching Out
To REACH IN
f i r s t
IS THIS HELPING THEM
MORE THAN
APPEASING ME. . . ?
EXTRAORDINARY MAGIC
Mark Twain
once said,
“The two most important days in your life are
THE DAY YOU ARE BORN
a n d
THE DAY YOU FIND OUT WHY”
We celebrate a person’s Birthday
Not because of the Day that they were born
But because of what they have born
Because of what they have given Birth in us. . .
I’ve celebrated well over 37
of my wife,
Erin’s Birthday’s
with her
And not one of them
has ever been without the over apparent
R E C O G N I T I O N
that I,
that many
are far more better
no so much
because she’s been Born
but because of what she has BIRTHED
in us. . .
Erin
creates
CARING CATALYSTS
in everyone she meets
or those who come across
her paths
which means that the best
Birthday Gift of all
Is what you cause to be born in others. . .
Your are the next Rung
on all of our Ladder’s
that take us Higher
. . .Always Higher
There’s no Candle on a Cake
that could ever illuminate more
and it’s
u n e x t i n g u i s h a b l e
Some actually powerfully prove
their Flicker
never compares to the
F L A M E
they ignite
and spread to others
. . .talk about a
fortunate inextinguishable inferno. . .
It’s not what we remember
So much as what we can’t
seem to ever forget
When you met me
my wings weren’t broken~~
They didn’t exist
Even before you could become
a magical wind
that could make Soar
You became my Wings
and I’ve never landed
or found a reason
to graze the ground
the same way
BIRTHDAYS
MARK YEARS;
M O M E N T S
make
L I F E T I M E S
(and I just can’t stop smiling YOU)
NEIGHBOR
Neighbor By JJ Heller, David Heller, and Andy Gullahorn
Sometimes it’s easier to jump to conclusions Than walk across the street It’s like I’d rather fill the blanks with illusions Than take the time to see
You are trying to close the back door of your car You are balancing the groceries and a baby in your arms You are more than just a sign in your front yard You are my neighbor
I can get so lost in the mission Of defending what I think I’ve been surfing on a sea of opinions But just behind the screen
You are grateful that the work day’s finally done You are stuck in miles of traffic, looking at your phone You are tryin’ to feel a little less alone You are my neighbor
When the chasm between us feels so wide That it’s hard to imagine the other side But we don’t have to see things eye to eye For me to love you like you are my neighbor My neighbor
Oh, to fear the unfamiliar Is the easy way to go But I believe we are connected more than we might ever know
There’s a light that shines on both the rich and poor Looks beyond where we came from and who we voted for ‘Till I can’t see a stranger anymore I see my neighbor May my heart be an open door to my neighbor You are my neighbor
S O M E T I M E S
Music is more than MUSIC
and Words are more than
W O R D S
From the beginning of time the question has rung out,
sometimes louder than softer:
JUST WHO IS MY NEIGHBOR?
No matter what you say, You
SHOW THE ANSWER,
Person by Person,
Neighbor by Neighbor…
with this certainty:
It just isn’t the person next door or across the street…
SO JUST WHO IS
YOUR NEIGHBOR. . . ?
LOVE LACK
IT IS AMAZING
how we think that this applies to everyone ELSE
but not to ourselves
but one of the biggest lessons that
THE PANDEMIC has taught us
is if infected, we are dangerously viral
. . .CAN THE SAME BE SAID OF LOVE. . .
IF WE ARE INFESTED WITH LOVE
IS IT IMPOSSIBLE NOT TO SPREAD. . .
P L E A S E
N O T E
TO
S P R E A D
L O V E
You have to first have LOVE
uhhhhhhhhhh
which means
L O V I N G
O U R S E L V E S
I have often joked,
IF YOU LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOR AS YOURSELF
I MAY WELL CHOOSE YOU NOT TO BE
MY NEIGHBOR
(for the way, or the lack of the way you love yourself)
Seems like I may not be the only one who thinks that:
Self-Compassion
Could Help You
Be More Tolerant
Of Others. . .
A new study finds that when you’re warm and accepting of yourself, those feelings may extend to other people, too. . .
Launched into public awareness by the psychologist Kristin Neff, the practice of self-compassion has emerged as a proven way to boost well-being and resilience amid life’s challenges. “With self-compassion,” Neff writes, “we give ourselves the same kindness and care we’d give to a good friend.”
A new Rutgers University study suggests that self-compassion has another, counterintuitive benefit: It helps you to become more accepting of other people who are not like you. Being kind to yourself, the study reports, can broaden your tolerance of others—so long as your self-compassion is rooted in “common humanity,” a belief that life’s joys and struggles are part of the shared human condition.
“People who are viewing themselves and their failures and their suffering as normal parts of human experience are more likely to have compassion for others,” says H. Annie Vu, a psychology graduate student at Rutgers and lead author of the study. “That is linked with less prejudice.” She aims to develop training programs that foster people’s sense of common humanity, which she hopes will deepen their compassion for themselves and others—and, as a result, promote social acceptance.
Self-kindness that reflects outward
Self-compassion, the quality Vu explored in her study, is distinct from self-esteem. Self-esteem involves how you answer the question “How much do I like myself?,” and it often crumbles when others criticize you. But self-compassion is a form of self-regard that persists no matter what others are saying. It means accepting yourself even when you fumble or fail.
As Neff defines it, self-compassion has three major components: mindfulness, awareness of your own feelings and thoughts; self-kindness, a commitment to caring for yourself in tough times; and common humanity, a sense that everyone experiences highs and lows in life just like you.
Vu’s study looked at how different components of self-compassion related to people’s attitudes toward others. The study’s 163 student participants took Neff’s 26-item survey to assess their self-compassion, including statements like, “When I’m down, I remind myself that there are lots of other people in the world feeling like I am.” The students also took a self-esteem survey and a test that evaluated their feelings about “outgroups” often marginalized by society, such as unhoused people or members of minority groups.
The analysis by Vu’s team found that people’s self-esteem did not meaningfully predict how they felt about outgroup members. Self-compassion, on the other hand, did—but it was people with greater feelings of common humanity, not self-kindness or mindfulness, who were more accepting of others not like them.
While self-kindness and mindfulness involve more of a focus on yourself and your emotions, common humanity “involves perception of others, and that connectedness between self and others,” Vu says. “That explains why it’s the only self-compassion component that is associated with low prejudice.”
Common humanity, in other words, helps you assess your own experiences against the failures and triumphs shared by everyone else on the planet. When you do that kind of comparison, it may be harder to look down on those different from you, because you’re focused on what unites you rather than what sets you apart. A sense of common humanity may also make your self-compassion more durable, because when you understand how your struggles reflect the shared human experience, it’s less tempting to blame yourself for them.
A 2018 study by Italian researchers had also found that self-compassionate people were more accepting of others, but Vu’s study goes further, showing that this connection holds up independent of people’s self-esteem. (Previous research has shown that people with high “me first” self-esteem are sometimes less accepting of people different from them.)
Vu’s finding also builds on reports from political scientist Kristen Renwick Monroe, who found that what set Holocaust rescuers apart from peers was their strong sense of common humanity. Even if (as was often the case) rescuers came from a different background or culture than the people they were helping, they recognized just how similar they were to those being persecuted, which motivated them to act.
Underscoring what connects us
Vu’s study is among the first to combine what have long been two distinct branches of research: studies on how people feel about themselves, and studies on how they perceive members of other groups. Through further study of how inner states affect outer attitudes, Vu and her Rutgers colleagues hope to create training programs that build up people’s sense of common humanity—and thereby broaden their acceptance of others.
Such programs could reinforce existing efforts to protect marginalized people’s rights and dignity, notes Rutgers psychologist Luis Rivera, Vu’s graduate advisor and a coauthor of the study.
“We’ve already seen historically how changing structures, laws, policies, et cetera, can lead to changes in prejudices. But what Annie’s work also suggests is that you can turn back to the individual,” Rivera says. “That could be another opportunity, complementing structural-level interventions with individual-level interventions.”
Developing and testing these educational programs could take years, Vu says. Yet people can start now to shift their focus toward what links them to all humanity—and observe the real-world benefits for themselves.
“The more you realize you are connected to other humans—and that other humans are humans—the more you’re able to regard them with dignity and respect,” says social worker and empathy educator Kristen Donnelly, founder of the Abbey Research firm. “The work of understanding your humanity is deeply connected to the work of understanding our connectedness. Difference is not a threat, but an opportunity.”
EMPTY CHAIR’D
THE EMPTY CHAIR
Will stare you down
Glare back
Blink not
Because it holds the
h a l l o w e d
power of
M E M O R I E S
ANGUISH:
The lack of Blindness
that illuminates
The Empty Chair
at a Holiday Table
The best thing about an
EMPTY CHAIR
At the Table
Is that it has a Meaning
No other Emptiness
Could ever hold
or Capture
It WHISPERS:
I’m still here
It SHOUTS:
Remember When
The Blessing
of an
EMPTY CHAIR
Is it cradles what can’t be held
No Hurt
No Grief
No Pain
No Loss
No Emptiness
That’s caused by a power
Much stronger than all of those things
Together:
L O V E
There’s nothing that shouts louder
Than a Silent Space
There’s nothing more full
Than an
EMPTY CHAIR
A heart will always Shout
What a mouth can’t Whisper
EMPTY CHAIR
That reminds of scents
That holds little sense
That makes no cents
But always keeps us
To what Was
Tortured to what Is
Foreigners to what
For an Ever
Will always be
And the worst of the worst
The baddest of the bad
The grievous of the grief
isn’t
THE EMPTY CHAIR
It’s the
s m a l l e s t
slow rusting rotting
EMPTY CHAIR
that holds
what never was
reminding us
painfully
of all of the memories
that’ll never be
created
experienced
imagined
Leaving us
not only
Empty Chair’d
But Spilled OUT
Off our Rocker
POURED OUT
The only thing worse than getting
EMPTY CHAIR’D
is being
NO CHAIR’D
Forever leaving blank the phrases:
I REMEMBER THE TIME:
I’LL NEVER FORGET THE TIME:
or better yet,
WHAT ABOUT THE TIME:
. . .because the worst memories of all
ARE THOSE NEVER CREATED. . .
EMPTY CHAIR’D
ENLIGHTENED FIND: HILLBILLY WISDOM
A pile of books at the bottom of the stairs gave way to the gravity that could no longer be denied and down they fell like uncareful Humpty Dumpty’s that could be warned but not taught. . .or maybe it was Billy and Phyllie, two little kittens we recently brought home that run willie-nilly every where. . .
OUT FELL
an old newspaper clipping from my Seminary days back in Lexington, Kentucky. Was it from the Louisville Courier or the Lexington Herald. . .I’m not sure or much care. The yellowing that age brings to that fragile page made this message even more loreful
𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐇𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦:
Your fences need to be horse-high, pig-tight, and bull-strong.
Keep skunks, bankers, and politicians at a distance.
Life is simpler when you plow around the stump.
A bumble bee is considerably faster than a John Deere tractor.
Words that soak into your ears are whispered, not yelled.
The best sermons are lived, not preached.
If you don’t take the time to do it right, you’ll find the time to do it twice.
Don’t corner something that’s meaner than you.
It don’t take a very big person to carry a grudge.
You cannot unsay a cruel word.
Every path has a few puddles.
When you wallow with pigs, expect to get dirty.
Don’t be banging your shin on a stool that’s not in the way.
Borrowing trouble from the future doesn’t deplete the supply.
Most of the stuff people worry about ain’t gonna happen anyway.
Don’t judge folks by their relatives.
Silence is sometimes the best answer.
Don‘t interfere with somethin’ that ain’t botherin’ you none.
Timing has a lot to do with the outcome of a rain dance.
If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop diggin’.
The biggest troublemaker you’ll ever have to deal with watches you from the mirror every mornin’.
Always drink upstream from the herd.
Good judgment comes from experience, and most of that comes from bad judgment.
If you get to thinkin’ you’re a person of some influence, try orderin’ somebody else’s dog around.
Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you’ll enjoy it a second time.
Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. . .
Kind of makes me wonder what will fall out another pile of books that gravity overpowers
or the kittens unknowingly knock over
for my next
Enlightened Find. . . .
A KINDLY KIND-OF-NESS
It’s a great Friday Blog Question:
IS IT POSSIBLE TO BE KIND TO EVERYTHING. . . ?
or to poetically put it:
CAN KINDNESS BE BROUGHT TO AN EVERYTHINGNESS. . .
Driving
Defensively
Looking for hazards
Watching for water filled potholes
He appeared across my windshield
Inside
Traversing it’s clear continent
Owning it
Like an unexplored universe
Not yet known
Discovered
Far from knowing
He could be exterminated
Crushed not so carefully
From a runaway McDonald’s napkin
Snuggled between the car seat
But when arriving safely to my destination
We both escaped from unknown dangers
Never to be seen/known
By the other
Still alive
For a time
A Kindly Kind-of-ness
Without a sacred
all relieving
Gratitude
Unoffered
But received
(With a Praise to be to the Universe Creator for not allowing it to be snake)
A GULP OF KINDNESS
And just like
T H A T
we are quickly into the Season of Auld Lang Syne
and hopefully doing just a little bit more than raising a
CUP OF KINDNESS
as we take a sip
and share a Gulp. . .
I recently re-read the Commencement Address author George Saunders gave which reads well in all Seasons, as each day brings us to a Commencement Ceremony. He shares:
What I Regret Most Are Failures of Kindness
(–by George Saunders, syndicated from theladders.com, Jul 28, 2018)
Down through the ages, a traditional form has evolved for this type of speech, which is: Some old fart, his best years behind him, who, over the course of his life, has made a series of dreadful mistakes (that would be me), gives heartfelt advice to a group of shining, energetic young people, with all of their best years ahead of them (that would be you).
And I intend to respect that tradition.
Now, one useful thing you can do with an old person, in addition to borrowing money from them, or asking them to do one of their old-time “dances,” so you can watch, while laughing, is ask: “Looking back, what do you regret?” And they’ll tell you. Sometimes, as you know, they’ll tell you even if you haven’t asked. Sometimes, even when you’ve specifically requested they not tell you, they’ll tell you.
So: What do I regret? Being poor from time to time? Not really. Working terrible jobs […] Not so much. Do I regret the occasional humiliation? Like once, playing hockey in front of a big crowd, including this girl I really liked, I somehow managed, while falling and emitting this weird whooping noise, to score on my own goalie, while also sending my stick flying into the crowd, nearly hitting that girl? No. I don’t even regret that.
But here’s something I do regret:
In seventh grade, this new kid joined our class. In the interest of confidentiality, her Convocation Speech name will be “ELLEN.” ELLEN was small, shy. She wore these blue cat’s-eye glasses that, at the time, only old ladies wore. When nervous, which was pretty much always, she had a habit of taking a strand of hair into her mouth and chewing on it.
So she came to our school and our neighborhood, and was mostly ignored, occasionally teased (“Your hair taste good?” — that sort of thing). I could see this hurt her. I still remember the way she’d look after such an insult: eyes cast down, a little gut-kicked, as if, having just been reminded of her place in things, she was trying, as much as possible, to disappear. After awhile she’d drift away, hair-strand still in her mouth. At home, I imagined, after school, her mother would say, you know: “How was your day, sweetie?” and she’d say, “Oh, fine.” And her mother would say, “Making any friends?” and she’d go, “Sure, lots.”
Sometimes I’d see her hanging around alone in her front yard, as if afraid to leave it.
And then — they moved. That was it. No tragedy, no big final hazing.
One day she was there, next day she wasn’t.
End of story.
Now, why do I regret that? Why, forty-two years later, am I still thinking about it? Relative to most of the other kids, I was actually pretty nice to her. I never said an unkind word to her. In fact, I sometimes even (mildly) defended her.
But still. It bothers me.
So here’s something I know to be true, although it’s a little corny, and I don’t quite know what to do with it:
What I regret most in my life are failures of kindness.
Those moments when another human being was there, in front of me, suffering, and I responded . . . sensibly. Reservedly. Mildly.
Or, to look at it from the other end of the telescope: Who, in yourlife, do you remember most fondly, with the most undeniable feelings of warmth?
Those who were kindest to you, I bet.
It’s a little facile, maybe, and certainly hard to implement, but I’d say, as a goal in life, you could do worse than: Try to be kinder.
Now, the million-dollar question: What’s our problem? Why aren’t we kinder?
Here’s what I think:
Each of us is born with a series of built-in confusions that are probably somehow Darwinian. These are: (1) we’re central to the universe (that is, our personal story is the main and most interesting story, the only story, really); (2) we’re separate from the universe (there’s US and then, out there, all that other junk – dogs and swing-sets, and the State of Nebraska and low-hanging clouds and, you know, other people), and (3) we’re permanent (death is real, o.k., sure – for you, but not for me).
Now, we don’t really believe these things – intellectually we know better – but we believe them viscerally, and live by them, and they cause us to prioritize our own needs over the needs of others, even though what we really want, in our hearts, is to be less selfish, more aware of what’s actually happening in the present moment, more open, and more loving.
So, the second million-dollar question: How might we DO this? How might we become more loving, more open, less selfish, more present, less delusional, etc., etc?
Well, yes, good question.
Unfortunately, I only have three minutes left.
So let me just say this. There are ways. You already know that because, in your life, there have been High Kindness periods and Low Kindness periods, and you know what inclined you toward the former and away from the latter. Education is good; immersing ourselves in a work of art: good; prayer is good; meditation’s good; a frank talk with a dear friend; establishing ourselves in some kind of spiritual tradition — recognizing that there have been countless really smart people before us who have asked these same questions and left behind answers for us.
Because kindness, it turns out, is hard — it starts out all rainbows and puppy dogs, and expands to include . . . well, everything.
One thing in our favor: some of this “becoming kinder” happens naturally, with age. It might be a simple matter of attrition: as we get older, we come to see how useless it is to be selfish — how illogical, really. We come to love other people and are thereby counter-instructed in our own centrality. We get our butts kicked by real life, and people come to our defense, and help us, and we learn that we’re not separate, and don’t want to be. We see people near and dear to us dropping away, and are gradually convinced that maybe we too will drop away (someday, a long time from now). Most people, as they age, become less selfish and more loving. I think this is true. The great Syracuse poet, Hayden Carruth, said, in a poem written near the end of his life, that he was “mostly Love, now.”
And so, a prediction, and my heartfelt wish for you: as you get older, your self will diminish and you will grow in love. YOU will gradually be replaced by LOVE. If you have kids, that will be a huge moment in your process of self-diminishment. You really won’t care what happens to YOU, as long as they benefit. That’s one reason your parents are so proud and happy today. One of their fondest dreams has come true: you have accomplished something difficult and tangible that has enlarged you as a person and will make your life better, from here on in, forever.
Congratulations, by the way.
When young, we’re anxious — understandably — to find out if we’ve got what it takes. Can we succeed? Can we build a viable life for ourselves? But you — in particular you, of this generation — may have noticed a certain cyclical quality to ambition. You do well in high-school, in hopes of getting into a good college, so you can do well in the good college, in the hopes of getting a good job, so you can do well in the good job so you can . . .
And this is actually O.K. If we’re going to become kinder, that process has to include taking ourselves seriously — as doers, as accomplishers, as dreamers. We have to do that, to be our best selves.
Still, accomplishment is unreliable. “Succeeding,” whatever that might mean to you, is hard, and the need to do so constantly renews itself (success is like a mountain that keeps growing ahead of you as you hike it), and there’s the very real danger that “succeeding” will take up your whole life, while the big questions go untended.
So, quick, end-of-speech advice: Since, according to me, your life is going to be a gradual process of becoming kinder and more loving: Hurry up. Speed it along. Start right now. There’s a confusion in each of us, a sickness, really: selfishness. But there’s also a cure. So be a good and proactive and even somewhat desperate patient on your own behalf — seek out the most efficacious anti-selfishness medicines, energetically, for the rest of your life.
Do all the other things, the ambitious things — travel, get rich, get famous, innovate, lead, fall in love, make and lose fortunes, swim naked in wild jungle rivers (after first having it tested for monkey poop) – but as you do, to the extent that you can, err in the direction of kindness. Do those things that incline you toward the big questions, and avoid the things that would reduce you and make you trivial. That luminous part of you that exists beyond personality — your soul, if you will — is as bright and shining as any that has ever been. Bright as Shakespeare’s, bright as Gandhi’s, bright as Mother Teresa’s. Clear away everything that keeps you separate from this secret luminous place. Believe it exists, come to know it better, nurture it, share its fruits tirelessly.
And someday, in 80 years, when you’re 100, and I’m 134, and we’re both so kind and loving we’re nearly unbearable, drop me a line, let me know how your life has been. I hope you will say: It has been so wonderful.
Congratulations, Class of 2013.
I wish you great happiness, all the luck in the world, and a beautiful summer.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Kind of makes you a little thirsty for a good gulp of Kindness
B O T H
one that refreshes as it renews
some much needed
and appreciated
K I N D N E S S
FALLINGS
James Crews is a poet who teaches Poetry at the University at Albany and lives on a organic farm with his husband in Shaftsbury, Vermont. Each Friday he posts a poem, sometimes one of his own that serves as more than just some mere Poetry Prompt. He recently posted this: I’ve been sitting with this very short but very powerful poem by Jane Hirshfield ever since a dear friend passed it along to me earlier in the week. It speaks to the season so many of us might find ourselves inhabiting, not only that of autumn, but a moment of loss and transition during which we’re asked to accept such changes as necessary, and perhaps even sacred. In this poem, she invites us to see each shedding tree as an icon, “thinned/back to bare wood,/without diminishment.” And there is almost a haiku-like quality to those final three lines that urges us toward deeper contemplation of the richness inherent in these wooden beings. Perhaps what we see as loss and a kind of death each year as fall comes is really just wind and weather having worshipped the trees so much they are returned to their basic essence. In this way, we might reframe any difficult season when we are worn back to our essential selves as holy, worthy of worship for the way such trying times allow us to become something new.
Autumn
by Jane Hirshfield
Again the wind
flakes gold-leaf from the trees
and the painting darkens—
as if a thousand penitents
kissed an icon
till it thinned
back to bare wood,
without diminishment.Invitation for Writing & Reflection: How might you reframe a difficult season in your own life as sacred or holy, seeing how you were worn back to the truest version of yourself even while in pain?
It prompted me to write in kind:
FALLING
And just like that
Summer fell
into a colorfully crisp confetti
of blazenous colors
that never reached the ground
Flutterings
into what can’t always be planted
but never fails to be garnered in
whatsoeversthat find us all
softly soaringly sheltered
in a cooling uplifting Breath
A heavenly satisfied SighMay this Fall Season bring you lots of
Oooooh and A W E