random thoughts from my shower

maybe I should change the name of this blog to Postcards from My Shower. Inspiration finds me there almost daily -- to the point that I've been considering keeping a pad of paper and a pen in the bathroom. My son says there's military stuff that you can write on while it's wet ...

today's thought:

I couldn't apply for construction financing by walking into a bank and saying, "Hi! I'm a really honest and trustworthy and nice person, and I want to build something. Will you loan me some money? I promise I'll use it wisely and pay you back." This might elicit a giggle, but probably won't result in a big fat check made out to my name.

It doesn't matter what kind of person I am, or for that matter, how nice the people are who work at the bank. They won't give me a loan until they see at least a rough drawing of what I plan to do with it. Same thing with grants, which you don't have to pay back. They still want to know how you are going to spend it.

Maybe the process of manifestation is the same - rather than trying to prove to the universe that I deserve more money, perhaps I just need to get more specific about what I plan to do with it. Since money is a means to an end, maybe I can skip the middleman and focus on the final outcome.

For most of my life, I was severely imaginatively impaired. I simply didn't fantasize, ever. I paid attention to only what was in front of me, and dealt with that. It never ocurred to me that I could create with my imagination.

For example, if I was out in the cold, I never thought to remember or imagine being warm and toasty in front of a roaring fire, and let the warmth in my mind seep into my body. I was not aware that scientists had discovered that thinking about doing something activates the same neurons as physically doing it. So I would just shiver.

If our family income was reduced, I just tightened the belt and cut non-essentials out of the budget. It never ocurred to me that we could manifest more money in any way other than working hard for it.

I started experimenting with the power of imagination when I began listening to Abraham-Hicks. Since then, money that I did not earn has been finding me, which is fantastic. But I'm still a newbie in this imagination thing. My vision board helps me, since lots of inspiring images of abundance are gathered in one place. However, my primary modality for imagination seems to be kinesthetic. I can remember and imagine how things feel much easier than how they look.

I used to think that since I could not visualize, I could not manifest. Now I know that some imaginations are visual, some are auditory, some are kinesthetic -- each one of the five senses could come into play. Turns out I was manifesting all along without realizing it. Since my attention was so anchored on 'reality', and I didn't know how to fantasize, I just kept attracting more of what I already had -- not much money, or whatever. Now it's time to learn how to imagine what I want so I can attract something new!

Which is where my new Wish Book comes into play. (it's the journal where I write stories of my life the way I want it to feel.) Maybe it really IS a catalog, and when I access the feelings I want to have, I am placing my order with the universe. I can't wait to experiment with this!

let me have my placebo

everyone's heard of the placebo effect by now, right? in some studies, inert sugar pills were found to be as effective as prescription drugs. some folks have interpreted this research as implying that the power of expectation and belief is quite substantial. they propose that a patient's faith in the doctor and the treatment is more predictive of the outcome than the specific treatment received.

I don't know if we'll ever get all the way down to the bottom of this dynamic. I have a few theories, but it's really not that important to me to figure it out. I don't understand how my car works either, but I still use it to get where I want to go. The placebo effect can also be an efficient way to reach a destination.

why challenge someone's belief in a harmless intervention that is working for them? if you believe that peppermint oil relieves headaches, and every time you put it on your pain goes away, I would not be doing you any favors by showing you an article that proves that peppermint oil is useless. I might think it will educate or inform you ... but it also might just be chipping away at your faith. Which is not gonna help your headaches any.

I resonate with alternative approaches, and rarely engage with the western medical system (I even gave birth at home.) So it was a little surprising to me when my daughter turned out to have a lot of faith and trust in it.

I offered her every home remedy for cramps that has ever worked for me and all of of my friends. Each provided only temporary relief. What finally worked like magic for her: Advil. She started feeling better almost the very instant she swallowed that little green pill. She has faith in allopathic medicine, and it works for her. I don't, and it doesn't work for me. (Please don't get me wrong ... I'm not an extremist. I'll gratefully head over to the ER if I need stitches!)

this is not about right or wrong. I'm as happy for her that she found something she resonates with as I am that I found something that works for me. the details are less important to me than the faith.

so if you want to show me an article that can build my faith in something new, that's cool. but please spare me the debunking stuff. let me have my placebo!

my very own Wish Book

When I was a kid, I eagerly anticipated the arrival of the new Sears catalog every year. It was called The Wish Book (or maybe that was the JC Penney catalog.) Anyway, between the two of them, I thought I had access to everything in the entire universe that was for sale.

I would spend hours turning page after page in awe. I didn't necessarily WANT all those things -- I was just fascinated to know that so much variety and so many possibilities existed.

Today I got the idea to create my own Wish Book. A few years ago I made a vision board, which is basically a collage of images that trigger feelings of joy and abundance in me, and I still enjoy looking at it every day. Given my Big New Revelation about the magical power of writing for me (how it moves the lofty ideas generated by my right hemispshere into the concrete reality of my left), I thought maybe it would be cool to write myself some stories.

Recently I used up all the pages of my journal, so I bought a new one on clearance at Office Max. It has Happy Bunny on the cover, saying "It's All About Me!" I've decided to fill its colorful pages only with possibilities. I'll probably still need to gripe occasionally, so I'll get another notebook for that. (It will be plain and boring-looking.)

Here's my plan: When I need to release some emotions by expressing them, I'll do that in the plain notebook for only exactly as long as it takes to reach a feeling of relief. Then I will pick up my Happy Bunny journal and my purple gel pen, and write about what I'd rather experience instead. Here's an example:

Releasing Journal: Dang, I hate that this place doesn't get morning sun.

Happy Bunny Journal: I love morning sun! It will be so lovely to live in a place where I can feel the warmth of the sun on my face before I even open my eyes. I love waking up early; feeling warm and cozy under the covers while I watch the light change in the eastern sky long before the sun peeks above the horizon. You know what else would be cool? A skylight, so I can see the stars, too.

Oooh, I can already see where this is heading! I can probably make that releasing notebook a pretty small one. I bet it won't be long before I just skip that one altogether, and go right to the fun of telling myself a story about what I want instead.

I'll let you know how it goes!

more than skin deep

just returned from a student merit award presentation at my daughter's high school. I know by now to bring some kleenex in my pocket, because these events always bring a tear to my eye.

I watched some of the biggest, burliest, scrungiest looking young men, the kind that might prompt me to cross the street if I saw them gathered together in a group after dark, walk across the stage and hug their teachers. Each teacher spoke a few sentences about his or her student, and I heard references to smiles, positive attitudes, triumph over adversity, kindness, and academic effort.

I bow in gratitude to the dedicated people who are teaching our kids, and who go the extra mile to notice and acknowledge qualities of character and strength, even in those students who may not be academic superstars.

I wish the audience had been made up of more than just the parents of the other award winners. I'd love to see pictures and an article about this in the newspaper. Too often, when teenagers are mentioned in the media, it's only because they've done something terrible. If you don't have teenagers in your family, or know any teenagers personally, I can see how easy it would be to get the wrong idea about the younger generation. If the general population could have more exposure to events that show teenagers in this light, I think it would generate a wave of hopeful anticipation for our future.

or has time rewritten every line

Chi Chi Rodriquez (remember him? that cute little golfer dude in plaid pants?) apparently said:

I don't exaggerate. I just remember big.

I'm right there with ya, Chi Chi, except I'm more likely to remember things better than they actually were rather than bigger.

My mind simply does not retain stuff I didn't enjoy. Frankly, it doesn't retain a lot of the stuff I DID enjoy, either. It also seems to convert unpleasant experiences to pleasant ones before it stores them away. That's sort of a fascinating and useful programming feature, in my opinion. Can't relive a terror or be haunted by regret if I don't even remember what happened!

So it makes sense that I don't put much credence in memories. My own, for sure, but also those of others. Memory is frightfully subjective. Same with history, which to me, is just a collection of some people's perspectives that got recorded somehow.

I'm suspicious of stories, too, even first person accounts. Once the moment has passed, they are are simply narratives of a memory. Even just one minute later. Oh heck, even IN that moment, we all selectively screen out a ton of data. Our nervous systems can only process so much. The instant we try to communicate something, we have limited it. It's perfectly natural.

My theory is that memories and stories tell us much more about the personality, beliefs, and outlook of the person who is sharing them than about actual events.

By listening to your stories and memories, I can get clues about what is important to you. Do you tell me how it looked, how it felt, or how it sounded? Do you describe the people or the surroundings? Include information about individuals, relationships or systems? Use the language of feelings or thoughts?

Do you project intentions as if you know the perspective of someone else on the scene, or just report what you have observed from your position?

Lots of info there. And none of it has to do with what actually happened back then. so I guess memory and history are useful to me after all, not as a window to the past, but to contribute to my understanding of the perspective of whoever is sharing them with me.

transform

Transformer by Gnarls Barkley

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uPzohswI5Tc&feature=related

into the new

I really enjoyed the book excerpt from The Ascension Primer that Karen Bishop included in her WINGS email recently. Since I don't always resonate with the exact constructs she proposes, I just take all kinds of liberties and twist 'em around 'til I like 'em better.

For example, what she calls Ascension, I just think of as personal growth and development. There was a list of about 30 items, but only some of them made my favorites list. Visit her site at www.emergingearthangels.com to read more of her work. My comments are in italics:

Below is a list of new ways of being that usually arrive when we begin to reside in a new and higher vibrating reality.

4. You suddenly see what it is all about and always has been and it has nothing to do with "karma", "contracts", "life lessons", or "Earth as a school".

woo hoo! I've been feeling and saying this for years, and I love reading it in someone else's words! I'm here to play, to create, to express, and to experience. I don't have the slightest interest in learning anything unless it's purely for the fun or challenge of it.

I'm not aware of making any progress or getting closer to any destination, but it is fun to me to be in motion. sorta like a dog riding with her head out the window; tongue whipping all over the place, sniffing it all in. Heck, if I did somehow accidentally manage to get anywhere, I'd probably just get bored and leave again anyway!

5. You are no longer interested in spiritual gatherings, group meditations, or the New Age arena in general.

true for me. started about 10 years ago. I love informal gatherings with like minded friends, but usually don't feel comfy attending meetings with a stated "spiritual" purpose. In fact, the last few I tried to attend, I ended up leaving early to go for a nice hike instead. my favorite soul foods are love, friendship, the sunlight, the mountains, and the pine trees ...

true confession: I have no idea what "spiritual" really means.

7. You crave simplicity and can barely tolerate anything complicated.

this one cracked me up. I thought my eyes were glazing over when I read and heard complex explanations because my brain was just getting older! I still love to read, but I go for the thin books now. nice to know that's just a sign o' the times ...

17. You no longer relate to mental and analytical processes ... We come to know that we only need to feel our way to anywhere... in the higher realms, there is no right or wrong, good or bad, or black or white. Things either feel good (vibrating high) or they feel bad (vibrating low).

whew, that's a relief. cause if I gotta think or analyze my way to anywhere, it's gonna be a real short trip. and with each passing day, it becomes harder to deny that I have definite expanded or contracted feelings about almost everything. will be interesting to see where those take me ...

27. You have an unquenchable thirst for creativity... When you arrive in this space, you will feel like you are almost manic with your creativity. The enormous amount of energy that is now running through you demands an outlet.

[like I said yesterday, dear readers, there's a storm of writing on the way, and I'm grateful to you for reading my outlet!]

wishful thinking

got accused of doing that recently ... wishful thinking, I mean.
I think it might have been intended as an insult.
I took it as a really nice compliment.

It sounded fun to make some New Year's Resolutions this year, and guess what topped my list? Imagine more. I wanted to play with creating my experience internally rather than reacting habitually to my external circumstances.

and even though we are only a few weeks into January, I have already done it enough that it shows?

Cool.

ass-u-me

my mind has been exploding with ideas to write about lately, and I find myself feeling annoyed by the need to eat and sleep because they take me away from my keyboard. I can easily see myself reveling in the lifestyle of an eccentric writer like Emma Thompson's character in Stranger Than Fiction; walking around in my pajamas for days until I have recorded my latest brainstorm in text.

anyhow, I have some time before my next 'to do' this afternoon, so I grabbed the copious notes I've been taking for the past 48 hours, hustled up to my computer, and decided to open today's daily quote from Alan Cohen while I waited for the Blogger login to pop up on my screen. Lo and behold, and I should no longer be surprised at synchronicities like this, he perfectly summarized the topic I was planning to write about:

Don't assume you know what someone else should be doing.

-- Alan Cohen

Of course, I feel compelled to elaborate, but if you don't have much time today, you can just stop reading right here 'cause that's the gist of it.

oh, but first, one quick diversion. have I thanked you lately for reading me? Because I just figured out last night that writing is serious magic for me. Robin and I have been doing a lot of research on brain function lately, and I think what might be happening is that through the act of writing, I am transferring the nebulous and abstract concepts that are generated by my right hemisphere over to my left, thereby anchoring them in the concrete world. Grounding them, I spose you could say.

I write to learn, although I suspect that my enthusiasm and passion probably make it sound more like I am teaching or preaching rather than still learning this stuff myself. Sorry 'bout that! In any case, writing relieves a tremendous pressure that builds up in me, and I'm so grateful for each of you who indulge me by reading and responding. I feel deeply blessed.

So ... back to this thing about assuming you know what other people should do. I've been having an interesting email exchange about this very topic lately, and it's also came up numerous times this week while coaching probation officers in Motivational Interviewing techniques. I'm guessing I must be ripe for some growth and expansion in this area, because I'm being stimulated to think about it all over the place.

Many of us with 'helper' personality types think we know what other people need. It can seem as obvious as the nose on their face that they need to go to AA, exercise more, spend more time in prayer or meditation, surrender, go back to school, leave their relationship, eat more veggies, or whatever. But here's the thing: we cannot possibly know where anyone else has come from, and where they are going. We can't know what their God, Soul, or Inner Being (take your pick) wants them to experience and why. They are the only ones with access to that information.

This might sound radical, but sometimes it's not even accurate to assume people want to get better. Haven't you heard folks all over the place thanking their cancer or heart attack or whatever for reminding them about what was important to them? We truly don't know what any experience, pleasant or unpleasant, means to anyone else. And even if they say they want to get better, their God/Soul/Inner Being may have other plans for them. Who knows?

So it seems to me that there are more respectful and effective ways to contribute to someone else's wellbeing than 'shoulding' on them, which I'll refer to as Fixing. I like having a variety of options to experiment with, because each person is different, and brings out a different side of me. Here's my list of ideas so far:

Listen for common ground - can I personally relate to anything they are experiencing or feeling? For example, have I ever decided to make a change and found it hard to follow through? Have I ever wished I could do something different but felt stuck in the same old patterns? Have I ever complained about something before I was ready to act on it?

the answer to all of these is "Uhhhhhh .... heck yeah!"

So I can probably relate to something in this person's experience. When I find that common ground, my heart will open, and I will stop trying to tell them how simple it would be for them to fix their problem. (I laughed out loud while proofreading these words: simple to fix their problem. yeah, right! as if a) it needs to be fixed, b) it will be simple, and c) I have the solution. I crack myself up. But I really do believe all that sometimes ...)

As a side note, Motivational Interviewing research suggests that most of us are far more likely to resist other people's suggestions than implement them, whereas action plans generated from within will probably be followed through. So by suggesting a solution, I am probably just triggering resistance which actually anchors them more firmly to where they are. Which is not such a big help after all!

Empathize - don't try to connect their experience to mine in any way. just try to understand where they are coming from. stay completely present with them, actively working to understand the spoken and unspoken nuances of their experience, and communicating them in such a way as to invite further clarification.

Ask what I can do to help - this one can be tricky, and I think I need to use it only after listening or empathy. Jumping in with an offer to help before they know I understand their experience could sound like Fixing.

So let's plug these into a real scenario. Say someone says to me, "My back hurts."

Fixing response: "Here's the number of my chiropractor. She's great with back problems."

Listening response: Nod or murmur sympathetically. Think about how I felt when I had a headache last week. Remember that I appreciated simple expressions of understanding and sympathy much more than being handed an aspirin. Decide to give empathy.

Empathizing response: "Ouch. I can see you holding your body differently. That must really suck because I know you have so much to do today." Decide to offer my help.

Ask if I can help: "Is there anything I can do to help? I'm running errands today, and would be happy to pick up some groceries for you or bring your son home from school if you'd like."

Oh, darn, my writing time is over! Okay, well, if you have other suggestions for things I could add to my list, will you let me know?

thanks! :)

watch and wait

Lately I been contemplatin' the benefits of having lived awhile. I think I might be mellowing out in my old age. I don't get hot under the collar about nearly as much as I used to. Gone are the days of springing into outraged action when I hear about an 'injustice.'

True statement: I don't hate G.W. Bush.

Sheesh, I don't even know the guy.

Black and white have melted into shades of gray, and it's not always clear to me who is the good guy and who is the bad guy. In fact, I just don't have any interest in those kind of labels anymore. And the only thing I can attribute that to is having lived awhile. Seen things come, seen things go, seen them come back again. Doesn't matter much. Everything changes eventually, whether I get outraged about it or not.

Lately I've been receiving lots of email about political stuff and community organizing from people who are passionate about getting involved. I think it's cool when someone finds something they feel good about to invest their time and energy into. I love when people are excited about possibilities and feeling optimistic.

And while it's sort of entertaining to watch all the inauguration festivities from the sidelines, I don't feel any different myself. Life was good yesterday as far as I remember, it was good today, and I suspect it will be good tomorrow, too. My thinking determines the quality of my experience, not the dude in the White House.

I vaguely remember feeling passionate about causes. I got my first cloth shopping bag at an Earth Day fair organized by my brother at Notre Dame University in 1990, and I still use it today. I went through an ethical vegan phase. I wore my Arms Are For Hugging t-shirt with pride. I was all about peace. (I'm sort of cringing as I write this. Violently opposed to war ... ironic, huh? LOL)

But these days, I'm just sorta minding my own business. It's a full time job for me to keep my own mind clean and clear.

I used to think that I had to DO SOMETHING, a la if you're not part of the solution you're part of the problem. Now, I do only what feels good to me. If I love the idea of contacting my congressman about some pending legislation, and I feel happy and light and uplifted about it, I go for it. If it feels heavy or icky, I don't do it.

I no longer feel it's my responsibility, or that things will never change unless I take action. Things change all the time. In fact, I've put some concerted effort into keeping things from changing, and they did anyway. I'm not as influential as I used to think I was.

You know, it could be that everyone in the world was already using this kind of internal barometer, and I'm just late to the game. Maybe nobody is doing this stuff because they fear what will happen to the world if they don't - maybe they just do it because they like doing it. If so, then I'm grateful to have finally caught on.

the abc's of inspiration

In her ninety-four years of livin', my friend Adelle has accumulated some pretty effective solutions to common problems. Here's one of her tried and true interventions for insomnia. I thought you might enjoy it.

If she finds herself awake when she'd rather be sleeping, instead of counting sheep, she counts the blessings she received during the day. (Hey, wait, isn't that an old song?) Anyway, for structure, and to keep her brain challenged, she puts the list in alphabetical order.

A ... the apple pie her friend served at tea.
B ... her friend Betty who called this afternoon.
C ... the child who smiled at her in the lobby.
D ... the peppy little dog that visits her from next door.
E ...

Well, you get the idea. I was thinking it would also work while waiting in line, on hold during a phone call, or stuck in traffic. And wouldn't it be a fun game to play with the kids? On road trips, in the dentist's waiting room, while waiting for the bus ... our days are full of opportunities to uplift ourselves and each other.

PS: Adelle says if you get all the way to Z and you're still awake, get up and make yourself a cup of Sleepytime Tea, and you'll be back to sleep in no time.

does the tree even exist?

Wish I would have found this prior to the dinner party I attended Friday evening. Perhaps I could have made a more articulate contribution to the stimulating conversation regarding whether the tree even exists in the forest, much less makes a sound when it falls, if there is no one to perceive it. (I love getting together with people who think about things like this!) You can read the entire essay in context here: http://www.pamelaheath.com/Skeptics.htm

***
We are now in the middle of a paradigm shift. The classical paradigm, which has been held since Descartes, is based in the underlying assumption that the observer is separate from the observed. In essence, duality. It says that there is a fundamental subject-object (or mind-body) split. This presupposes that there are objective ways to define and measure the fixed external world--which the proponents of this paradigm would say is the only world that matters. The classical paradigm favors experimental research design, which presumes to measure the world in an objective way.

Anyone who has grown up in today's school systems might be justified in being a little confused at this point. We are taught that the double blind controlled experiment is the gold standard research methodology. What happened?

Physics.

The emergence of quantum theory started a fundamental shift in how we understand the world. Physicists suddenly realized that there is always some indeterminacy in our measurements. This is because the act of measurement itself can define and change that which is being measured.

This means that the experimenter is always part of the experiment, and all our "objective" facts are, in fact, potentially flawed.

... And while not all physicists agree, the new paradigm that is emerging is one in which the universe is a single whole, within which every part is intimately connected to every other part.

Thus, the so-called objectivity of the classical paradigm is the true illusion, as an "observer effect" is inevitable in any observation. The experimenter is a part of his or her experiment.
***

and because I love adding emphasis, I want to add some to that last line:

The experimenter is ALWAYS a part of the experiment, and the observer is NEVER separate from what he or she observes. I think that's a good thing to keep in mind while we are being constantly deluged with scientific studies and statistics. Think long and hard about overriding your personal discernment and intuition because of a study, because there are no truly objective experimental designs. Claim the joy, privilege, and responsibility of exercising your own free will.

brain dump

some random thoughts:

I had a dream that I was sitting at my computer (in a house and room that looked nothing like my real ones) and suddenly about 20 old post-its appeared, stuck to the screen. They were actual post-its of messages I have written in real life, all different colors and sizes, stacked up willy nilly on top of each other and obscuring the screen.

I knew they had not been there a second ago -- they came out of nowhere, and I was totally mystified. Then I said, (apparently I talk to myself out loud in dreams, too), "Well, the only explanation for this is that I am dreaming. But that's ridiculous! Obviously, this is reality!"

When I woke up this morning and remembered this dream, and how absolutely certain I had felt that it could not be a dream because it was REAL, I laughed out loud. I feel exactly as certain that I am truly awake now, and this is REAL!

but is it?

Back to the dream. I suddenly realized there were three unused rooms in my house. They were down a long and isolated hallway near the front entrance, and the doors had always been kept closed. I had known about them at one time, but my focus and activity were centered in another wing of the house, and I never went down that hall.

So I went to take a look at them. They each badly needed a paint job and a lot of junk removed, but one was a perfect place to hold in-person client sessions, another was ideal for a workout room, and a third would make a beautiful and comfortable guest room. Not coincidentally, I've recently been toying with new possibilities for myself in exactly those domains! Cool, huh? I guess there's some space already designated for expansion.

I wandered back into the main area of my house in the dream, excited to share my find, and found my former husband there, setting up a bunch of workout machines in my office. He was wearing a brace that kept his shoulders back so they wouldn't round over, and he was in a lot of pain. I offered to rub his back for him, and he accepted. This might seem like no big deal, except that in real life, he would never allow me to touch him, and rarely even makes eye contact. It was such a warm and natural exchange of friendship, and it was really sweet to feel that with him again, even if only in the dreamtime.

Now, on to "reality."

My daughter is taking a pottery class this semester, and she loves it. She was telling me all about their first day sculpting, and how she held the clay in her hands and played with it a while, and then became aware as she looked at it that she could SEE the finished piece inside it.

So she began to consciously manipulate it in the direction of her vision. She loved the feeling of her hands in the clay, making her goal manifest. I, of course, heard a metaphor for life in there. Let's see if I can flesh it out:

We are living lumps of clay. After we are born, we each spend varying amounts of time and energy just playing with physical reality and our bodies -- getting to know how we feel from the inside, learning under which conditions we are most flexible, testing how far we can stretch ourselves before we break, exploring which shapes we can hold without compromising our structural integrity, and frequently smushing it all back together so we can conduct more experiments.

And then, a magnificent vision occurs to us, and we begin to sculpt intentionally in order to bring it forth. But not with our hands. We mold our lives with our attention and our thoughts. When we finish, we step back and evaluate. Is this satisfying? Is this what I wanted to create?

If so, we play with it like that a while. And naturally, as we play, we may notice some improvements we could make here and there. Some of us keep our first sculpture and just fine tune it, others prefer to smush it all up and start fresh each time.

In my case, it took a really long time to realize that my attention and thoughts are my tools. I still forget that alot, and try really hard to force something into existence with my will, or lots of hard work, or tears of frustration, or reasoning with it.

But the clay of my life doesn't respond to these efforts. It just sits there, happily being lumpy, patiently waiting for me to play with it and warm it up again. Getting my hands in the clay always helps me relax, and when I settle down I remember that all I need to do is focus my thoughts and attention toward what I want to see, and it will naturally and organically manifest itself. My daughter didn't force her sculpture into the clay - she and the clay worked and played together to reveal it.

getting to know you

I don't like that man. I must get to know him better.
- Abraham Lincoln

I normally stick pretty close to home, but over the past several weeks I've taken two trips. One to go camping in Big Bend National Park in Texas, and the other to visit family in Chicago, where I also spent many hours in a nursing home visiting my dear great aunt. I'm sure I interacted with more strangers this month than all the rest of the year combined.

And every one of those strangers has a story. At first, I found myself wondering about these people -- where did he come from? Where was she going?

Did the serious receptionist not return my smile because she was embarrassed about her teeth? Did someone tell her to wipe that smile off her face one too many times as a kid? Was she depressed or overworked or burned out?

Did the laughing toll booth attendant just hear a good joke? Was he genuinely happy to meet and greet each driver that passed through his territory? Was his favorite song playing on the radio?

I heard folks around me inventing stories about others, too. She's trying to get away with something. He's a cranky old man. She never talks to anyone. He doesn't care about anyone but himself.

Such a curiously human thing to do, this story-telling. Isn't it amazing how a simple imaginary context can change our feelings about their behavior? If we attribute malicious intention, we react with anger. If we imagine innocence, we react with compassion. And neither one has any basis in fact!

Ultimately, I decided that if I felt bummed after interacting with someone, it was worth my time and effort to invent a story that helped me feel better. Thinking that she didn't smile at me because her teeth are yellow awakened my compassion. Thinking she must not have liked me would only harden my heart, and leave me carrying a painful burden long after I'd walked away from her desk.

Doesn't really matter what's true, I just search for whatever will awaken my compassion. Since I'm making it all up anyhow, I figure I might as well make up a story that I enjoy listening to.