On Being Powerless

We all want to be in control.  Sometimes we feel like we're succeeding, like we've got a handle on life and things are going the way we planned.

And then something comes out of the blue and smacks us in the head with a two by four and walks away giggling, knowing it has power over us.  We sit.  Dazed.  Trying to figure out what's going on.  Trying to get our bearings.  Trying to figure out what our next step should be.

I'm still dazed.

Two days ago our family received some scary medical information, an initial diagnosis.  My 19-year old daughter has a Chiari malformation in her skull which is putting pressure on her brain.  It was a whirlwind day of exam, MRI, diagnosis.  Now we are in a holding pattern, waiting to see a neurosurgeon and make a plan.

It's left me feeling very powerless.  Powerless against the insurance company that won't pay for the specialist our doctor wants us to see but insists on sending us to a different one.  Powerless against the schedule of the specialist that leaves us waiting for days before we can even schedule to meet to get any more answers.  Powerless against the emotions it's churning up in my family.  And powerless to change what is.

It's been a rough couple of days.  And the rough times aren't over.  They are probably just beginning.  I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out what I should do, how I can deal with it, how I feel.  I'm riding tumultuous waves of okay and freaked out.

But, for just this minute, I'm done focusing on what I'm powerless against.  Right this minute I want to focus on the power I still have.  I still have the power to decide how I'm going to face this.  And that matters.

I'm not going to put my life on hold.  I'm not going to drop all other responsibilities.  I'm not going to obsess.  I'm going to do the best I can to live my life while waiting.

And I'm going to practice what I preach and be kind to myself. 

When others tell me about difficult things they're going through, especially transitions, I ask them to be kind to themselves.  I ask them to allow themselves to feel what they need to feel and not judge themselves for it.  I ask them to give themselves time to make decisions, to not force them just because someone else wants an immediate answer.  I ask them to practice good self-care.  I ask them to be as kind to themselves as they would to a dear friend if they were the ones going through this.

So this is my game plan.  I'm going to live my life as normally as I can.  I am going to drop everything and cry when I need to.  Then I'm going to pick it back up again.  I am going to take care of myself.  I am going to respect the feelings of my family members but not feel accountable to fix those feelings.  I am not going to project all the possibilities at this point.  I'm going to wait for further information.  If it's going to get ugly in the future, I'm going to let that be in the future.  I'm not going to let the possibility of future stress ruin now.

We're going to get through this.  We're going to be okay.  But I'm not willing to wait.  I'm not going to sit and wallow in the toxic stew of powerlessness.  I'm choosing to be okay now.

A Year of Kindness

This last year I decided to let KINDNESS be my guide.  The one word that would be on my mind and in my heart as I lived my life.  And I learned a lot.

I learned that any time I make something a chore it becomes less fun for me.  I did okay tweeting every day for a long time.  Then it got a little more erratic.  I think I pretty much stopped all together around July.

I also learned that choosing one word, one idea, to focus on for the year is awesome!  I loved it so much more than I ever liked setting goals or resolutions.  It works for me.  Plus, it gave me plenty of time to really internalize things.  Change takes time.  Usually a lot longer than we think.  A year allows for effort, failure, correction, learning, and more effort.

And I learned that I am so much happier when I am kind.  I'm a pro at the quick, sarcastic quip, but I don't like being that person.  It feels false.  I like being genuine.  I like saying what I mean.  I like telling people how wonderful I think they are.  I like choosing to ignore things that bug me so that others feel uplifted in my presence.  And the more I choose to ignore those things, the less they bug me.  The more kind I choose to be, the more beautiful the world becomes.

I can't speak for the entire world, but in America we live in a society that praises both kindness (openly) and unkindness (subtly).  News stories of service and giving capture our interest and sometimes change our behavior for a while, but we sure do like our sarcasm and teasing.  Our entertainment is filled with biting remarks.  The verbal slam is what gets laughs and praise.  There are entire tv shows dedicated to pulling pranks on people -- the soul purpose of which is to embarrass someone else for our entertainment.  Political discourse is less about discussing a point of view and seeking to understand the other side than it is about tearing the other argument (and often, the other person) to shreds.  We seem to say we want kindness, we like kindness, but our actions so often support the opposite side.

I've learned to keep my mouth shut more.  Since my brain still isn't fully converted, I have to control what I can.  The unkind thoughts still enter my head, but I can stop them from leaving my mouth.  I'm not always successful, but I'm doing so much better.

And I've learned that listening is one of the most kind acts I can perform.  So many people just need someone to listen to them.  Not to fix things.  Not to give advice.  Just to listen.  We all need our hearts to be heard.  Honest listening, with support and love and an intent to understand, sends value to the speaker.  There are just too many people who have no one to listen to them.  Taking the time to truly listen fills my heart in a divine way.  It makes me more than I was.  It enhances me.  It strengthens me.  Listening is a good thing.

I've also learned that being kind sometimes means speaking up.  Maybe it's the compliment I thought in my head but wouldn't always say in the past.  Say it.  It matters.  Or it's asking others to stop or change the conversation when it becomes unkind, even if it's about someone not present.  It may not ever get back to that person to hurt them, but staying silent hurts me.  Staying silent is participating.  It's passively saying that behavior is okay.  And it's not.

And I've learned that as with most things, it's more difficult to be kind with family.  And it's more important.

I notice kindness so much more.  There are so many kind acts every day, everywhere I go.  I notice unkindness more as well.  There's still way too much of that.  And I notice how my efforts to change and be more kind make a difference.  I am changing the world.  One person, one moment, at a time.

Kindness will go forward with me.  It is a part of me now.  It's in my heart.  But I've already chosen my word for next year and can't wait to get started.  More on that next week.

I WILL Change the World

As a kid, there were times I wanted to be famous.  I wanted everyone to know who I was and believe I was wonderful.  I wanted to make a grand discovery or create something breath-taking or just be so incredible that everyone had to know me.

I no longer have that desire.  Partly because I have seen what fame is like.  I truly believe most famous people are miserable.  They are still searching for approval.  They are still trying to fill that hole in their heart that says they're incomplete.

I'm not.  I am complete.  I am content.

But I WILL change the world.

I used to think I had to be famous to change the world.  Or that if I changed the world it would make me famous.  Neither of those things is necessarily true (although it can happen).

The best part of being sick (I call myself sick even though we can't figure out what's wrong; my body doesn't function the way it should -- to me, that's sick) is what I have learned.  I have learned to slow down.  I have learned to spend time with people.  I have learned to look them in the eyes and listen.  I have learned to hear the pain in their hearts.

And that's how to change the world.  Touch one heart.  Lift one burden.  Comfort one soul.  And the world is changed for the better.

I don't need to reach millions; I just need to reach one.

The Kindness Project -- 6 Months In

As the new year began I decided I wanted one word to focus on.  One idea to center my life around.  I chose kindness.  After a month I decided to broaden my vision a bit to include elements connected to kindness.  I'm six months into it now and guess what -- I'm perfect at it!

I am kind all the time to everyone I meet.  Every word I speak is kind.  Every thought I have is kind.  Every action I take.  Even my gestures.  I just radiate kindness.

Well, no.   But I wish that were true.

I am truthful and direct by nature most of the time.  This means that sometimes stupid things come out of my mouth.  I don't mean them to be hurtful, but apparently they are.  I can tell because I see the look on the person's face.  Or I miss the reaction completely and find out later because a friend of a friend has the courage to tell me.  And there are probably many times when I never find out at all. 

But I am trying.  I work harder to think before I speak.  I let the possible laugh go because the words might hurt.  I worry less about what I want to say and more about how I'd like the people with me to feel.  I want the people I'm with to feel valued.  I'm making a special effort to put away the snide and invite the sincere.

And there are times when I know it would be kind to go over and talk to someone who is alone.  To say hi to the person at the store I haven't seen in a long time.  To reach out.  But I don't.  Because, more often than not, I am scared.  That they won't remember me.  That they never really liked me.  That I imagined a relationship that was never really there.  That they are too cool for me.  That I will say something stupid.  Or a hundred other things.  Basically, that I am inadequate and not worthy of their time.  (Yes, this is a psychological hangup I have from my childhood.  I'm working on it.)  Basically I get so worked up about me that I forget about them.

I haven't worked much on this.  I need to.  I could do better.  I am pretty friendly and kind once I am invited into a conversation; I'm just not good at inviting myself.

There are some people it's very easy to be kind to.  There are days it's easy to be kind.  And then there are other people and other days.

I don't want who I am talking with to determine whether or not I am kind.  I don't want a bad day to squelch my kindness.  I want to be a person who is kind.  Period. 

The thing I'm working on most is my thoughts.  I grew up in a house full of very sarcastic people.  I am fluent in two languages:  English and sarcasm.  I am equally powerful on the defensive or on the attack.  And I hate it.  Like someone who has spent a great deal of time in another country automatically thinks things in that language first, I too often hear those snotty comebacks in my head before I ever think something nice. 

There is a language of kindness.  I am not a native speaker.  I know a lot of the words, but I am not fluent yet.  I can understand it better than I speak it.  But I am reminding myself more often to think in kindness.  Not just to push a mean or judgmental thought away, but to sense when it's starting and step on it.

Change takes time and focus.  I will be patient.  And as often as I can, I will be kind.

A Month of Kindness

It's been a month since I started my kindness project.  So what have I learned?

I've learned that 140 characters isn't very many.  I've learned that people define kindness differently.  I've learned that reading and posting a great kindness quotation in the morning doesn't mean I'm going to be kind all day.  I've learned that I can't be truly kind and cranky at the same time (although a kind moment can peek through a cranky cloud).  I've learned that having a single focus for an entire day is tough.

I did not grow up in a house filled with kindness.  I was not taught to be kind.  I learned lots of good things in my home, but I wouldn't say kindness was one of them.  I grew up in a home with a lot of sarcasm, a lot of yelling, a lot of fighting.  Not always, of course, but those things stuck with me.

Kindness was something I found outside my home. 

My grandmother was kind.  There was something different about her that drew me in.  An unconditional love.  Did she talk to me about kindness?  I don't remember.  But she treated me kindly.

And I'd say that is how I learned kindness -- by others being kind to me.  Kind people popped up in my life often.  They were heroes to me.   I wanted to be like them.  To this day, truly kind people will always be a draw for me.  It's like a magic power.

I've tried to be kind.  Sometimes I've succeeded; sometimes, not so much.  But I've really been struggling with it lately.  Especially in my home.

That's why I chose this word.  I want to be more kind.  I want to feel it in my heart.  I want to feel it so much that I can't contain it, that it is bursting from my seams.  I want to radiate kindness.

I've been working on it for a month and I'm not there yet.  Not even close.  I go like gang busters for a while and then fall flat.  Out comes the sarcastic remark or snotty comment.  I can apologize (although I often don't), but that won't take back what I said.

Change is hard.

It's possible that some of my difficulty is because I'm struggling with my emotional/mental/physical health.  It's always more difficult to be kind when I don't feel well.

Can I be kind when I am miserable?  Is it possible? 

I think so.  I haven't proven it yet.  The experiment goes on.

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I'm going to broaden my word choice a bit.  I'm going to include words which I feel connect to or are an aspect of kindness.  Words like charity, respect, compassion.  One word just wasn't enough to capture the change I'm looking for.