How often do you admire someone but keep that thought to yourself? Perhaps someone took a risk, spoke truth to power or behaved well in a tough situation. You admired them for it but kept that admiration to yourself. How much good might that have done if you told them, perhaps given them a bit of encouragement to stand strong again? How much might your words give them much-needed support when they were feeling low?
Chimamanda Adichie encourages us to never admire quietly. She says:
If I admire something about someone, I tell them. We humans are so fragile. It’s important we give people their flowers while they are here. Never admire quietly.
Don’t be stingy with kind words and compliments. They could very well be the fuel that keeps those good deeds coming.
In the midst of technological connectedness, loneliness is ever present. That need for close human connection isn’t satisfied by clicks and emojis or political jousting. It requires a deeper sharing of oneself. And how frustrating to have stories to tell but no one to share them with.
Imagine what good you can do simply by being that person who can listen to another’s stories. To ease their loneliness.
Emily Dickinson captured this well:
If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one lonely person
Into happiness again
I shall not live in vain.
Who do you know that might have stories to tell if only there was someone to listen?
Astonishing a mean world is quite the life goal. Flipping the script. Not buying in to the smallness, pettiness, and cruelty you see around you.
Imagine the ripple effects of such kindness.
Perhaps you’ve heard the story of the man and the starfish. In sum, a man is walking along the beach at low tide finding starfish that have landed too far above the water line to survive. He dislodges them and throws them back into the ocean. A bystander is astonished and scolds him, saying that he will never be able to make a difference as there are miles and miles of beach with hundreds of stranded starfish. The man responds, tossing another back into the ocean, “Made a difference to that one,” he remarks.
Making a difference doesn’t have to be a grand gesture. It can be quite small, perhaps only affecting the person in front of you right now. Perhaps the difference is choosing an unexpected response to cruelty. Perhaps the response is to not lose hope.
Hang in there. The starfish are right in front of you on your path if you choose to see them.
This moment we are in is but one in the collection of moments that make a life, a story, a history. Each moment building on the last, forward toward a powerful culmination. To stay hopeful and earnest in each moment, no matter how dire, is a testament to what we hold dear, to hope, to a belief that all things will ultimately work together for good.
As Howard Zinn says,
TO BE HOPEFUL in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness. What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places—and there are so many—where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction. And if we do act, in however small a way, we don’t have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.
Do not give up on the beliefs you have. To be decent, kind, not returning hate for hate, to speak truth to power, to retain hope for a brighter future, a future willing to work for. That is a marvelous victory.
When we find ourselves in challenging times and are unsure which way to turn, let these words help guide you.
Do justice. Peace, justice, love are things we do and bring about, not things we wait for. With our best discernment, we offer ourselves to the world, hoping to make a difference. Kind words, loving hearts, calm demeanors, patience, forbearance, and forgiveness. The way of the One we follow. A servant’s heart but a leader’s strength.
Love mercy. Oh, how the world loves vengeance, cancelling, grudges, getting even, punishment. To love mercy is a kinder, gentler path, one that believes in the redeem-ability of every last one of us. One that doesn’t insist on being avenged or having the last word. One that delights in forgiveness and healing.
Walk humbly. No matter how hard we try to do or be right, we may be wrong. The other guy might be right. And, get this, God loves the other guy as much as God love you.
Black white. Up down. Left right. In out. We are a people who love to categorize. Categories simplify things and help us to sort out our place in the world.
But then there’s that puggle, a baby platypus. Classified as a mammal but laying eggs with a duck-like bill, aquatic, poisonous. No wonder the platypus astounded the scientific community when it was first discovered in 1799. Indeed, the skin of the first platypus discovered, preserved in the British museum of Natural History, still bears the marks made by the curator at the time who tried to pry off the bill, convinced the creature was a fake.
The puggle doesn’t categorize easily.
While categorizing can be helpful, it can also be limiting if we fail to see outside the norms and lines we draw. And when it comes to humans, where do we draw the lines? We humans are nearly impossible to sort into classifications because we have so many unique characteristics. Categorizing might even keep us from looking for and seeing the individuals behind the label.
We can find differences and commonalities among any group of people.
Are there people in your life who encourage you and make you feel stronger and lifted up? Are there some who drag you down or take the wind out of your sails? In her book, Balcony People, Joyce Landor Heatherley argues there are two types of people: the evaluators and the affirmers. She suggests:
I am sure, if there were a way to view a movie and see instant replays of all the strategic change points in our lives, that we’d instantly spot the people who either broke our spirits by their critical or judgmental evaluations, or who healed us by their loving, perceptive affirmations.
To be honest, I seem to be able to remember the negative comments of evaluators faster and more clearly than the positive remarks of the affirmers. I’m not alone in this ability to recall the negative….I suspect that not far from anyone’s conscious level of thinking lies the memory of an evaluator who pulled on his or her spiked boots and stomped deliberately over our bare soul and personhood.
Do you have any of these evaluators in your life? Maybe you can recognize the voice in your head that tells you that you can’t do something. In her book The Artist’s Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity, Julia Cameron calls these the censors. Maybe you have many censors, a rogue’s gallery of them.
So what do we do with these evaluators and censors to keep them from stifling our blossoming with their negative talk or opinions? Heatherley suggests leaving them in the past, even if that past was five minutes ago:
We all have the choice to replay the harmful remarks from evaluators, or we can choose to let them pass on. We can even choose to make allowances for their discouraging, destructive words. But best of all is the choice to willingly focus our minds and hearts on today’s person who is affirming us.
So who are these affirmers in our lives? Think back…
Who by one small sentence or more, has changed and lifted your opinion of yourself? Who was the person early in your life who recognized the first sparks of originality in the labyrinths of your mind and soul and saw what no one else saw? And who is the special affirmer who catches quick glimpses of the flames from the fires of your potential and tells you so? Who, by his or her words, helps you to respect and believe in your own value as a person? And who is the affirmer who encourages you to stretch and dream beyond your self-imposed limits and capabilities?
These affirmers are your Balcony People, cheering you on to blossom and stretch. These are the people whose words you must cling to when working toward your goal. These affirmers see you “by a clearer, truer light. They [are] able to peel back the layers of pretense [you] wear like like costumes for a bad play. Most of the time they [see] through and past the masks [you] hide behind. Then, once having broken through to [you] they’d get on with the business of motivating [you] to be all [you] can be.”
Affirmation is vital to our health and progress:
When others discern the good, the noble, the honorable, and the just tenets of our character (no matter how minuscule they may be) and proceed to tell us how they admire those traits, we feel visible. We begin to ‘see’ ourselves and our worth. We feel nurtured and nourished, but mostly we feel loved.
The Basement People do just the opposite. With their words they cause you to doubt and shrink. They focus on your flaws or failings. They encourage you to not try, to stay where you are, to wallow in the “murky waters of failure and discouragement.” We don’t need to linger on their words.
Who is in your Balcony? Who cheers you on and sees your unique worth? Who do you admire in history for their accomplishments or moral victories?
When you struggle, picture these people, your Balcony People. Remember their words. Let their affirmations encourage and comfort you in defeat and to keep pressing onward in your goals.
You are meant to blossom not wither. You are meant to shine not lurk in the shadows.
It’s getting harder to find the right presents for my granddaughters. I’m keenly feeling their growing up and the fact we are of different generations. Their world now contains so many things that I have so little clue about.
And Christmas for us, with kittens in the house, requires a whole new game plan. Making things festive without creating feline hazard zones is challenging.
And, with a family filled with different eating preferences and diets, food is a puzzle.
But, as with the Whos in Whoville, Christmas will come and find us regardless of how decorated we are or how many presents are under the tree, and we will learn the underlying truth again that Christmas isn’t about the stuff. It’s about the love. And that, we have in abundance.
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