Kicking off the Everyday Heroes
series is a story to remind us that not all school locker stories involve bullies with spray paint. Check out what these high-schoolers did to help a classmate with muscular dystrophy who couldn’t open his locker.
~Valerie
Hullo my peeps! Howzit goin’ in
your part of the cosmic turkey?
I’m sittin’ here poolside, just being thankful for the little things. Not just the little things that happen to me (like this pretty weather, and the fact that the laundry facilities didn’t eat my quarters today), but the little things I thought didn’t matter which turned out to be meaningful to others.
Like last week when I wrote a one-line e-mail (OK, it was a run-on sentence) to someone at work recognizing a contribution they’d made to our company. I have no clout; I’m maybe one step above a peon, and this other person is levels way above me. I had no reason to think my words would have much of an impact. Yet in a few simple words, and further evidenced by the fact that this person copied 3 others on the reply, I was touched and humbled to realize that my words really mattered.
Or months ago when I gave my friend a copy of Aaron Freeman’s You Want a Physicist to Speak at Your Funeral. She gave it to a friend who gave it to a friend whose health is poor, who loved it. Well apparently another friend knows the One Who’s Sick & here it is months later and I’m finding out how something I shared with someone else came full circle & touched someone’s heart. Which touched my heart.
So now it’s your turn. Don’t think you don’t have enough time or resources–size doesn’t matter, and the little things can make a big difference. It feels good to make others feel good, and everyone wins. Come back and warm my heart with cool stories of your own. Oh, and if you get stumped for ideas, here’s a warm-n-fuzzy website to inspire you: http://www.helpothers.org
Thanks for being y’all,
~Valerie
Aesop was on to something there...
My good people (this means you):
There’s more fragility and vulnerability in life than many people realize. Please remember, everyone is vulnerable. Everyone. Regardless of what others choose to show the world, there is a part of them that is capable of being deeply wounded. Violence encompasses much more than physical assault—it’s in the messages we send ourselves and others, and we never know just how powerfully we might affect someone. So when the sun goes down, please, let’s make sure we haven’t said anything or behaved in a way so as to devalue another human being…or ourselves.
Reach out to people when you need an encouraging word. Reach out to others who could use an ear or a shoulder. We can’t all be there for everyone, but we can all be there for someone. We can’t take care of each other, but we can watch out for each other. You will not have a heart for everyone; I sure don’t. But when you have a heart for someone, show it! And when you don’t, simply be kind. As much as you can do so without compromising your safety or that of others, err on the side of kindness. Don’t ever wonder if you should! More kindness—to ourselves, to others, to the creatures and to the earth—can only make our lot better in life. And don’t let anyone fade away….
Another thing: no matter who you are, someone on this grand planet loves you and thinks you’re beautiful. At least one, and more probably quite a few. There are probably people out there caring about you whose existence you barely acknowledge. Think about that when you’re lonely or discouraged. Intentional or not, you make a difference in this world, and if that message doesn’t come across in your everyday life, reach out to others and let them remind you until you believe in yourself again.
This fragile tendril of existence that we’re lucky enough to experience won’t even see the full dawn before our species becomes extinct. Take that knowledge and use this life for wholeness, for goodness.
If there ever was a gospel that needs to be spread, it is this: Your existence on this planet matters. You are beautiful, and you are loved.
~Valerie
PS~ I’ve written the above in various forms on a couple of occasions and think it bears repeating…and, to be perfectly honest, I often need to be reminded of these very same words…. ~V.
Every few months I seem to go back to this YouTube video of Richard Dawkins reading from his book, Unweaving the Rainbow. It’s one of those things that inspires in me a sense of wonder, gratitude, and delight. My only gripe is the title, which might suggest morbidity to the fainter of heart–I promise you, this is not morbid, nor is it about death. The transcript is below the video, but please do watch the video—the musical accompaniment combined with the video clips truly enhances Dawkins’ words. Enjoy, and do share if you’re so inclined. ~Valerie
“We are going to die, and that makes us the lucky ones. Most people are never going to die because they are never going to be born. The potential people who could have been here in my place but who will in fact never see the light of day outnumber the sand grains of Sahara.
Certainly those unborn ghosts include greater poets than Keats; scientists greater than Newton. We know this because the set of possible people allowed by our DNA so massively outnumbers the set of actual people. In the teeth of these stupefying odds it is you and I, in our ordinariness, that are here.
We live on a planet that is all but perfect for our kind of life: not too warm and not too cold, basking in kindly sunshine, softly watered; a gently spinning, green and gold harvest festival of a planet. Yes, and alas, there are deserts and slums; there is starvation and racking misery to be found. But take a look at the competition. Compared with most planets this is paradise, and parts of earth are still paradise by any standards. What are the odds that a planet picked at random would have these complaisant properties? Even the most optimistic calculation would put it at less than one in a million.
Imagine a spaceship full of sleeping explorers, deep-frozen would-be colonists of some distant world. Perhaps the ship is on a forlorn mission to save the species before an unstoppable comet, like the one that killed the dinosaurs, hits the home planet. The voyagers go into the deep-freeze soberly reckoning the odds against their spaceship’s ever chancing upon a planet friendly to life. If one in a million planets is suitable at best, and it takes centuries to travel from each star to the next, the spaceship is pathetically unlikely to find a tolerable, let alone safe, haven for its sleeping cargo.
But imagine that the ship’s robot pilot turns out to be unthinkably lucky. After millions of years the ship does find a planet capable of sustaining life: a planet of equable temperature, bathed in warm starshine, refreshed by oxygen and water. The passengers, Rip van Winkles, wake stumbling into the light. After a million years of sleep here is a whole new fertile globe, a lush planet of warm pastures, sparkling streams and waterfalls, a world bountiful with creatures darting through alien green felicity. Our travelers walk entranced, stupefied, unable to believe their unaccustomed senses or their luck. The story asks for too much luck; it would never happen.
And yet isn’t that what has happened to each one of us? We have woken after hundreds of millions of years asleep, defying astronomical odds. Admittedly we didn’t arrive by spaceship, we arrived by being born; and we didn’t burst conscious into the world but accumulated awareness gradually through babyhood. The fact that we slowly apprehend our world, rather than suddenly discover it, should not subtract from its wonder.
It is no accident that our kind of life finds itself on a planet whose temperature, rainfall and everything else are exactly right. If the planet were suitable for another kind of life, it is that other kind of life that would have evolved here. But we as individuals are stil hugely blessed; privileged, and not just privileged to enjoy our planet. More, we are granted the opportunity to understand why our eyes are open, and why they see what they do, in the short time before they close for ever.”
~Richard Dawkins (Unweaving the Rainbow)
I’ve been a real jerk the past several months towards someone in one of my circles. I don’t even have a good excuse for my behavior; I’ve got hang-ups, and I allowed them to prevent me from having a life-affirming attitude towards this person, who’s extremely likeable, admirable, respectable.
I’ll tell you a little about this person: kind, compassionate, sensitive, fun-loving, funny, intelligent, thoughtful, open-minded, open-hearted, personable, thankful for everything…and loves cats, hugs, and nature. In many regards (and almost frighteningly) this person sounds an awful lot like (a more consistent version of) a characterization of some of my better qualities. We even share some commonalities that would likely make us good friends were we to pursue a friendship. (I said friendship; get your head out of the gutter.) The world would benefit if there were more of this person.
What’s weird is that when we first met, I felt a connection with this person, thought we could be friends. But a couple weeks later that changed–I don’t know if I was subconsciously reminded of someone from my past or if I sensed something that I was unsure of, or what–it still mystifies me. But suddenly I became uncomfortable around this person, and easily annoyed by the quirks–my region of ‘personal space’ grew a bit larger, even while recognizing that this is a likeable person. Realizing my discomfort, and not wanting for this person to feel devalued, I tried to cover up a lot of my failings with humor–it’s an ice breaker and using stupid humor somehow helped me with my irrational feelings.
I truly have no idea if and how my attitude or behavior affected this person. Based on behavior, I suspect this person either A) didn’t notice/doesn’t care; II) has forgiven me about a bajillion times; or 3) has learned to stuff their feelings down. And how tragic would that be if this person was negatively impacted by my behavior; if his/her morale, or worse, self-worth, were damaged by my indifference. I can only hope that this person was raised to cultivate self-love, and to draw his/her value from internal reserves rather than from external sources.
For the past two or three weeks, I’ve noticed myself making an effort to be more patient and understanding of this person. A few days ago, however, it’s as if something in me snapped. Those hang-ups I mentioned? Gone. Gone, and replaced with, believe it or not….tenderness. I now feel perfectly at ease when s/he’s in my physical space, and not only that, but if s/he were in front of me right now, I would hug him/her~ and not one of those 3-second-long wimpy-ass hugs, either. I’m interested in this person’s history, life, thoughts. I want to engage him/her in humor and conversation. I want to help him/her when it’s warranted. Whatever wall my psyche built six months ago has suddenly crumbled. It startled me to realize this, though not unpleasantly.
The past few times when I’ve seen this person, I’ve engaged him/her more in conversation, asked questions about life, thoughts, expressed concern when it’s appropriate, smiled at more genuinely, offered help. I’m relating to way I wish I had been all along, probably overly so in an attempt to compensate for my prior failings, as if to say, “Look! See? I do care! I really care! Are you looking?” I even found an excuse to text message this person, to prove that s/he is trusted with my phone number (who says age begets maturity?).
In a matter of days, my mind and emotions have done a 180° turnabout. Several times recently I found myself feeling quietly humbled when s/he was around. I’ve been such a heel, and the kindness towards me feels undeserved. I tracked down this person’s FaceBook page and grew teary-eyed when I saw some of the pictures and the sweet way s/he interacted with his/her friends. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered to the webpage. (Useless, but cathartic.)
While on the one hand my brain wisely tells me not to trust my fickle feelings, and to hold off awhile before trying too hard to right my wrong, I nevertheless composed a note to this person. Since we don’t know what’s going on in another person’s life or how our words or actions have affected them, I figured it best to reach out now with a word of apology and affirmation–you just never know when your words might make or break someone. Here’s what I came up with:
“Dear ______,
I owe you an apology. The past several months I’ve failed miserably at treating you like a valuable member of the human race. It’s not been intentional, but I’ve been standoffish or impatient when you could’ve used my help or camaraderie. You deserve much better. I hope you meant it last week when you said you’re proud of yourself– I’d hate for you to ever feel “less than” because of something I said or did. You seem to take it all in stride, but I want you to know that I’m not happy with how I’ve been, and I’m changing. I’m also disappointed in myself because we seem to have some things in common that might inspire us to be friends one day. I’m really sorry– sad, to be honest– that I let my hang ups affect the way I related to you. They took a sudden departure as of late, and I plan to give them a stern whoopin’ if they try to return. :] The hang ups left something else in their place, and it’s better this way… I like you…and I care about you. I think you’re a wonderful person and an asset to the world– we need more people like you. I hope you won’t let anyone convince you otherwise. I’m sorry,______, for everything. I hope you’ll accept my apologies, or at the very least trust that this letter is truly heartfelt. …….Valerie”
In the past I’ve been accused of using the written word to avoid a difficult conversation. In this case, though, I was actually fully prepared to talk to this person and apologize. I decided to write the note instead because I know s/he’s a sentimental sap (again, like me), and because having something written down can sometimes be more meaningful to others, more solid, trustworthy.
Please understand that my apology has nothing to do with virtue. Virtue would have been to feel my discomfort and not let it change how I related to this person. It’s only after the discomfort disappeared that I wanted to embrace and affirm him/her. I don’t get, or want, points for this. This is only the natural outpouring of compassion and is no more virtuous than parents caring for their kids–it doesn’t feel like a sacrifice.
Well (as is par for the course for me) I grew anxious and impatient and decided the note can’t wait until the next time I’d see this person. So I called the other day, said what I needed to say, and s/he heard me out. And ya’ know what? S/he’s essentially like, “What hang ups?” S/he enjoys it when I’m around, had no clue what I was talkin’ about. I’m over here thinkin’, “Say what, yo?” Either this person’s a liar, a saint, totally oblivious or I was awfully talented at covering up my neurosis.
I shook my head and smiled softly at the irony, a fresh wave of tenderness washing over me. How lucky I feel to know that my insensitivity was imperceptible and therefore had no adverse impact on this person’s psyche. The fact that s/he didn’t notice anything amiss brings a lump to my throat, as it reminds me of the innocence and purity of a small child. I’m humbled indeed, and yet filled with gratitude.
Thanks for reading,
~Valerie
The other day I mentioned that I’ve got some ideas brewing for new blog posts. Two of those ideas are for series I’ll be starting. Here’s a snapshot:
The “Spiritual Practices” series will focus on new practices I have or am attempting to incorporate in my life. I anticipate these entries will be spaced further apart than entries in my other series, as spiritual practice takes work and dedication.
The “Perspectives: Then and Now” series will explore issues–specifically, what my stance on certain issues was as a theist and why I held my view, compared with my current stance on the same issues are, and why I hold said view.
Stay tuned!
~Valerie
It’s been forever since I’ve blogged so tonight I’m just checkin’ in with y’all to say thanks for following, and don’t give up on me ’cause I’ve got almost a dozen ideas brewin’ in me noggin so more’s coming….hm, nice lil’ run-on sentence to boot.
Peace, love, and puddy-tats,
~Valerie
