I know a woman I wish I had heard play in her band. I could be wrong but I like to think heavy metal with a real edge.

 

I feel like the telling of stories is an important part of understanding this bizarre and confusing experience of being human. (I guess this comes as no surprise given the nature of the blog, huh?) It’s like the stories help to mark edges in the constantly flowing stream that is our life, and are a way for us to say, “Hello, fellow monkey-creature, I share with you a tale from my stream that hopefully you will recognize from your stream and will help us to understand and relate to each other.”  A platform for expressing what can be hard to directly state, whether a joy or a deep-water sadness. Sometimes though there are pressures from within us that contort the stories such that the only ones we tell are those where we are always the good guy, even though shared history suggests these stories are…… not necessarily an accurate portrayal of events. Let’s face it, the stories where we are the good guy are the easiest to tell (And then I saved the babies from the burning building. That’s where I got this scar), but sometimes telling the truth where we weren’t so awesome, even a modified version of the truth where we were only 60% awesome, becomes impossible.  I think those types of stories leave us feeling more alone, more isolated, more like no one knows who we really are.  

 

 

 

 

 

I recently performed a random act of kindness that involved listening to a string of stories told by someone I know quite well.  This person was the good guy in all her stories. Our shared history suggests none of the stories were “necessarily an accurate portrayal of events.” I don’t think the accurate portrayal of events was the important piece of that interaction, but there was a cost to her.  Yes, she left feeling heard and cared for, and she left with the same fears and sadness and aloneness that she came in with.

 

 

 

 

For me a core piece of RAK, with good & bad elements, is about wanting to be meaningful in people’s lives (in some cases wanting to be far more meaningful than I currently am, but that is another issue).  Working hard to be fully present no matter what the moment brings. Sometimes those moments bring a lot that is difficult to stick around for, and, on our best days, we do stick around. There are times when those “I would rather have a cookie than be here for this” moments stack up. After awhile you may find that you are swimming hard in heavy seas without a solid place to grab hold of and rest.  You can get tired in those heavy seas. You can struggle to keep your head above water. You can start to ask why the hell you are doing this, being supportive and fully present for others and their pain?  Why feel all the feels that arise within you? Wasn’t life better when those feels were locked up under the stairs? The news that most catchs your eye is about violence, random and targeted, to the most vulnerable and innocent.  Perhaps you despair at the size of the waves, the pull of the current, the intensity of the gale.  You can forget.

 

And so, for those of us out in the waves, here is a story to share.  It is from the Field Museum so you know it is sciencey, and not just some Damn Hippie tale: A tale from archeology in the American Southwest in the mid-1200s-1300. A bit of background, starting ~700CE the civilization of the Ancestral Puebloans expanded across the Four Corners region of Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona, and Utah, building cities, roads, trade and sophisticated art.  Ultimately this all collapsed as the result of a 300 year cycle of drought, which you could see would pretty much take you down, no matter how glorious you were civilization-wise.  When the environment changed and crops began to fail as the region entered into the drought cycle which became increasingly severe, people’s first response was to cooperate. The 2nd response was to cooperate even more. Next they developed complex systems to expand their ability to cooperate on larger scales. It was only when the pressures from the crop failures were severe with wide spread starvation that the humans went to war….. and even then, humans sought ways to cooperate in response to raiding parties and escalating violence.   Violence is not inevitable. It is certainly not the first option most humans choose to pursue. That nasty shit on the news is on the news because it is not what most of us do. Remember this is science, not Damn Hippies…..well, it might be Damn Hippie science but still. Go, Humans! 

Being human means being covered in goop, not just covered but gooped into the marrow, gooped between the synapses.  I am not really sure why we aren’t called Goops instead of Humans….but maybe the original meaning of “human” was goop. Maybe our pets do call us Goops. Maybe that is why they are nice to us, “There, there, Goop, I will stay with you even when other Goops leave, because, even though you are a Goop, you are my Goop.”  

The truth, for me, is that goop is often hard, and painful, and scary, and is something we have in common, something that helps us to find ways to be meaningful in each other’s lives, strangely maybe it is something we can hold onto in heavy seas and find a quiet harbor within which to rest.  I would rather not have the hard, painful, scary, but I am guessing then it wouldn’t be goop, would it? Well, fuck it. I’m in. Let’s go, Goops!  Viva la Goop!! 

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I know a woman who I wish I had known better.

It has been a crazy last couple weeks.  A tsunami of work deadlines, bad shit in my family, and stuff, the ubiquitous stuff that oozes into all the cracks of our lives, making it difficult to move through our day. When my life spins this direction my attention becomes narrow and laser focused on What Must Be Done and my ability be present in, hell even aware of, the external world becomes small.  As my outer world shrinks, my inner world becomes cluttered.  I have continued to do random acts of  kindness but the time that I am fully present narrows.  I get a lot of things done, that is one of the skills I specialize in (I really should put that on my resume: Expert in Getting Things Done), but this morning I am wondering if I am really more productive as I spin in my hamster wheel inside my head.  The hamster says, “Yeah we are!  Let’s run!! This is awesome!!!”  I am no longer sure….but I digress and am probably avoiding talking about what I want to talk about today (You: “Probably avoiding?  Shaah.”)

At first I thought I was going to have to quote  the great philosopher, Kindly Uncle Ben from Spiderman but it turns out this quote actually belongs to Voltaire, which is way more intellectual and educated. So let’s pretend I encountered this quote by reading Voltaire, and not from a Spiderman movie.

Voltaire: “With great power comes great responsibility.” I think this matters.  I think this matters a lot, at least to who I want to be and who I want to do a better job of being.  I suspect Voltaire, and Kindly Uncle Ben for that matter, had something different in mind, but they are both dead so how are they going to argue, right?  Where this statement has been rattling around inside my brain for the last few years is as I think about my actions in the world specifically toward the people in my life. In particular people I in any way feel I have some responsibility for and to: my trainees, friends, family, partner….. I carry a lot of responsibility because I CAN carry a lot of responsibility.  There are so many things I don’t do well and never will, and there are things I do well, sometimes even prize-worth, outstandingly well….on a good day.  The things I do well, where I have “great power,” that matter most to me are the things which touch other people’s lives: my trainees, friends, family, partner….. Because I know I can do these things, that I have “great power” through my ability to bring kindness, generosity, empathy, attention, I feel that I have “great responsibility.”

And, of course, it gets complicated.

I have been increasingly struggling with the following question for last several years without finding any resolution. And as my “kindness” becomes increasingly volitional and mindful, as opposed to automatic, this question has become more important and urgent. I have no idea what “urgent” even means in this context, but yeah urgent. No clue. No f-nig clue.

The question? Where does the line of our responsibility to others lie?

Let’s not be too Damn Hippie about this and not go all Love the Whole World, kumbaya, and all that. Let’s think about the people who are truly in our life. Not too hard a question for people who are barely in your gravitational pull, recognizing that we are each obviously the Sun that everyone else rotates around (right?), but who are distant asteroids. Also not a difficult question as the astronomical units shrink and we encounter celestial objects more central to our solar system that we delight in having bask in our brilliant light. Yea, people in our life! Yea, people we care about & love!!

But what about those celestial objects close to the center of our brilliant light and warmth who have toxic atmospheres, and perhaps even space monsters? How about those who, through no fault of their own, cannot support life?  Those who still NEED our light and warmth, but reflect nothing in return, indeed if their orbits pass too close to even us as The Sun, we are diminished, perhaps even to the extent our ability to shine on other objects is eclipsed.  Where does our responsibility lie for those who are defined by society as orbiting so close we “should” help, care about and care for, but the harsh reality is that closeness is not the truth?

“Should” takes a beating in much of clinical psychology and related traditions. Truthfully, “Should” becomes a great way to trap ourselves into roles and actions that are not healthy for us to do, and so much of the beating is well-deserved (Take that you should-of-a-bitch (kick, kick, kick)).  And, at the same time, one of the many things that sucks about being an adult (None of which were in the informed consent form!!) is there are a lot of things we do because we “Should” do them.  And, as we highlighted a couple sentences ago, there is a whole class of things we think we “Should” do, but don’t really “Should” do. Anybody else getting a bit turnaround and woozy?  No?  OK, back to people….I mean celestial objects…..or was it people after all? 

Where do we draw the line of our responsibility to others when those others are people who have caused you harm or damage? Those whose current life is so destructive and chaotic that the shrapnel flies randomly, taking innocent bystanders down? Who are drowning and desperately grab at anyone to try to stay above water even if it means taking that person down with them?  (These are vague and rather extreme metaphors that I will leave for you to consider how to fill in with whatever may (or may not) reflect the reality of the streams you swim in.)

Common sense and a little push from survival skills shaped by a rich evolutionary history suggest the answer is a simply, “Cast them out! Banish them from your solar system!”  But, of fucking course, the people alluded to above are the people who are most likely to need our help, and be the people we “Should” support, both because society expect us to, and also because there may be a space in our hearts that wants to…..maybe.

Random acts of kindness, the seeking of connections with others, and the glimpse it offers into other worlds places us in a difficult space sometimes.  We have the opportunity to see that “fault” becomes a meaningless word but still….. There are hurts that roll back and back across generations but….. Maybe this person did their best but still…. We can understand and pardon AND act to protect ourselves from [insert hurt here: Betrayal, Neglect, Abuse, Manipulation, Lies, Disavowing,…..]. And its not about a black and white decision; reject vs. embrace, cut off all contact vs. welcome them into your heart.

What a gooey mess. Does it seem like RAK leads us here often?   Probably means it is “important” and “valuable” to grapple with.  Sigh.

So where is that line of responsibility for those we “Should” help but for whatever reason don’t want to, are wary of helping? The people we “Should” help; and then there is You, you bright amazing sun, you, you deserve love, and respect, and to be able to shine your light and warmth where you want to, on to objects that can reflect it back to you.  And, as Uncle Ben said, “With great power comes great responsibility.”  I don’t yet know how all this comes together.  I hope somewhere in all that, there is a balance. I wonder if part of finding that balance is trying to listen to what your heart says about who you “Should” support, rather than what society says you “Should” do.  I don’t know.  I still got this question rattling around in my brain.

 

 

I know a woman and her husband who have encouraged me to stop and really pay attention, even when I would rather not.

Before I forget, I thought of a word I like better than “forgive.”  It is “pardon.”  Maybe we can talk about that more down the road.

I recently did a kind of weird random act of kindness.  I had dinner with a friend in one of the cooler parts of downtown where we had mussels in a spicy sauce with plenty of beer of the Belgium variety, and lets not forget lots of bread to soak up the last drops of the sauce.  Bread: I am a fan. Bread, bread, bread,…  We split the check and my friend paid their half in cash, which I took and paid the whole with a credit card because I wanted to have some cash. We have had some intense, dangerous weather during the last 6 weeks or so with repeated series of nights when the temps plummeted well below zero when you factored in the windchill.  This was one of those nights; dangerously cold, and the night was still young. My friend and I, bundle against the wind, waved awkwardly goodbye from beneath our protective layers, and waddle off in our own directions like Michelin Tire Men.  As I approached the Metro, there was a man, inadequately Michelin-ed against the cold and wind, selling the Street News (newspapers some organization gives them to sell, which I am sure has some logic I have never bothered to truly think through).  I gave him a couple dollars, said “stay warm” in a serious but compassionate voice, and got on the escalator.

As I rode those magically moving stairs down, I thought about what had just happened (because that is part of the point of RAK, right?), and paid attention to how I was feeling.  How I was feeling was stupid, hopeless, and was freezing my ass off. I am totally Michelin-ed up and the wind is taking bites out of me…nom…nom…nom… “Stay warm?” Are you fucking kidding me? Could I have been more disconnected from that actual interaction?  “Hey, there, good buddy, I feel ya. Sure is nippy tonight, huh? Here’s a couple bucks that are sure to change your night from one of facing possible death from hypothermia to one of blissful warmth. Oh, and can you sign this receipt so I can write this off on my taxes?”  Damn it.

Stupid, and freezing, and hopeless.  Despite being a Brooding Swede, I am generally quite a hopeful person….which may surprise you given all my existential angst as we navigate a year of random acts of kindness.  Lately my world has been feeling a bit shaky and a bit more fragile than usual, which has probably affected my general Pollyanna-like nature (Yes, I know that existential angst and Pollyanna-like nature are a strange mix, but I believe we have established that I am complicated, glorious complicated at that).  I am sure the hole that Elly, and her completely accepting dog-ness love, has left behind is contributing to that sense of shaky but I have drifted from our story….

Hopeless.  Random acts of kindness is not about changing the world.  Its about making genuine connections with people, being in the moment, the genuine, heartfelt gesture.  My interaction did not do these things.  It was forced and artificial because I felt hopeless, hopeless to make any difference in the world as it seemed especially filled with hate, violence, intolerance, indifference, loneliness, isolation…. How could any act matter?  What could I ever do?  Why even bother to try? It only hurt and highlighted how little it could ever matter. I had forgotten what the point was.

By the time I reached the bottom of the escalator, I understood what had just happened.  I turned around and got back on the up escalator.  And not just because I like to ride escalators, which I kind of do.  I reached the top and swallowed my embarrassment, and approached the man from a more humble place.  I said hi and we talked about how cold it was.  He was initially suspicious but warmed to our conversation (Pun intended. I am hilarious). I gave him $60, all the money from dinner.  I said that I hoped it would help him get out of the cold sooner.  He said, oh yes, it would.

Of course, I have no way of knowing what he did with the money.  Maybe he got out of the cold, bought food.  Maybe he bought drugs, or alcohol, or dancing girls, or Kanye West CDs.  Of course, I hope my “kindness” made a small but positive difference, but I can’t assume it ever does. That doesn’t matter.  Ultimately, that wasn’t the point. At least in that moment, he knew another person was seeing him as a person. That was the point.

As you know, although I am “nice,” I am no saint and there is no way for me to feasibly to do this except on the most rare of occasions. I also openly acknowledge that a huge driving force of my doing this was because of my own sense of hopelessness & helplessness, and wanting to do something that eased that feeling in me.  I wish I could claim that this was some sort of exceptional RAK, but I don’t think it was.  I scored myself for full credit, but know it did not qualify for bonus points. It doesn’t qualify for bonus points because it is not about the size of the act, it is about the quality, the genuineness.  The quality definitely improved on round 2, but that Hopeless is what pushed me back up to the street level.

I have been paying attention to that Hopeless, who always seems to be loitering about lately, smoking cigarettes, drinking cheap liquor.  I probably should blame my stupid dog for dying, but I suspect there is something important to be learned.  I am trying to listen.  I haven’t heard yet what story it needs to tell.  I hope it is a story with a happy ending, but I am ready to listen where it takes us.