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Dogs again

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I know a woman who continues to touch people’s lives despite being gone.

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Beijing air quality; smog as thick as the fog in a Sherlock Holmes’ story, crystal clear in the space of a day. I am sure there is a metaphor in here about how the smog of our personal histories affect our ability to see the world as it is….., but I have no idea what that would be.

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Etta
The day I left for China, Etta (my second dog diagnosed with cancer, the one laying down in this picture) was not looking well and then deteriorated rapidly. She went from fine to not fine to suffering in less than 48 hours, and was increasingly suffering. The vet confirmed rapid spread of the cancer. My friends Keith & Kay and my amazing daughter Haley made the tough and loving decision to put Etta down. She died quietly in her own backyard on a beautiful Fall day surrounded by 3 people who cared about her, while I was 10,000 miles away.

So much sorrow, so far from home, feeling so alone at a meeting where no one would understand my loss. And I was aware of how lucky I am. Lucky to have people in my life who can care, and make the hard decisions, about things that matter so much to me. Lucky that I have people to share my sadness with via text, email and Facebook from the other side of the planet, people who care about that sadness even though some of them don’t understand it. Lucky to have connections to people even as I struggle to try to strengthen and find meaningful grounding in those connections.
Pursuing random acts of kindness for the last couple months is a key piece of how I was able to recognize how lucky I am and also allow this grief to be what it is. Oh, Christ, Damn Hippie rising…..but still true.

There were wonderful people at this meeting in Beijing, several of whom I know fairly well, a couple of whom might even be considered friends or at least close colleagues. All of them extremely bright, caring people, passionate about the value of their work and it’s genuine potential to help people. These are compassionate, hard working professionals doing public health work that matters. And none of these good people were people who would have been able to understand my deep sense of loss at the death of “just a dog.” We could spend a chunk of time exploring a variety of reasons for this, but I think most of this exploration would lead us to the same place. The people at this meeting and I did not share the same world view regarding the value of pets as part of a family and the emotional response to a pet dying.

Some of these folks undoubtedly would have had empathy for my grief in a general human-I-know-hurting kind of way, but there would not have been a real connection, a genuine understanding and shared human experience. It does not say anything bad or good about them or me. That gap just is. Given that it is becoming increasingly clear that, amongst other things, a year of RAK is about finding ways to connect with other humans, this gap matters. Then how do we bridge it? As much as I have strong and meaningful connections to my pets, I didn’t think trying to drag these fellow humans out of their world and into mine was going to be particularly helpful. In fact that seemed ridiculous and like a great way to confuse my Asian colleagues (even more than I suspect I already do every time they interact with me). Instead I made a conscious decision that I would bridge this gap by crossing into their world as best I could. I tried to listen.

There are a number of students and junior professionals at this type of meeting. Although they are bright with many good ideas and enthusiasm, the structure of this kind of meeting does not generally allow their voices to be heard. Still, like of all of us, they want to be heard and I am often approached (remember I am a “nice” & approachable kind of guy) during breaks to answer a question or discuss an idea. Being that I am “nice” & approachable, I am consistently friendly and engaging, but in all honesty I am not necessarily giving this person my full attention. With all the context above, at this meeting I tried to listen as fully as I could. I tired to be as fully present as I could. I tried to give each of these bright, enthusiastic humans all of my attention when they approached me. I had many good discussions but the main thing I heard underneath the words was, “Please listen to me. Please see me. Please let me know that what I have to say is valuable, that I am valuable.” All of which I tried to do by being “there” when we interacted.

This was the RAK I repeatedly tried to do across these days. This was how I tried to bridge the gap between their strange foreign weird world and my strange foreign weird world. I think it mattered.

 

Fear of Random Acts of Kindness: Part Two

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Mr. Kitty on the stairs 2014 Lion Statue 10-2014

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I know a young woman who, along with her husband, has inspired me to deepen the process of asking the question “Does it have to be this way?”

Continuing on my last post, thinking about how attempting to perform daily random acts of kindness over an extended period shines a light on those times when I hesitate, or in all honesty walk away even when it is clear someone needs kindness (least anyone starts thinking I am some kind of saint…although I believe we have clearly established that I am “nice,” right?) . This year will reveal many things, both the good and the challenging, which whirl around my brain and through my various guts and innards making it sometime easy and sometimes hard, even impossible, for me to perform RAK.  Some of this goop I know nothing about.  Some of this goop I know quite a bit about, although I will confess that it turns out that even the goop I firmly believe I am keenly aware of and have well under control, turns out to be more goopy than I thought.  Huh, perhaps I should have stated that up front several posts back, sort of a disclaimer: Let’s not make any kind of assumption that at the end of this year, everything is going to be wrapped up in a tidy package.  That would be most awesome though. I wonder if I would get some sort of prizes for being so wise and having used such good thinkology? I will look into that.  In the meantime, I am a gloriously complicated person and that’s all we got to work with.

Back to RAK:  Why is it that sometimes performing simple random acts of kindness can be difficult, make me feel uncomfortable and even require me to push past fear? An important part of the underlying goop, for me, is the fear associated with Ignorance and Want.

The second child that the Ghost of Christmas Present reveals to Scrooge is a girl named Want. Like ignorance, she is “wretched, abject, frightful, hideous, miserable” and “yellow, meagre, ragged, scowling, wolfish; but prostrate, too, in their humility.”    For me, Want pushes on two painful pressure points: The wants of others/Others and my own wants.

Our strengths and weakness are elements of who we are along the same continuum.  This has been said by like a 100 gazillion people, but I’ll give a nod to Ralph Waldo Emerson (“Our strength grows out of our weaknesses.”) because that seems fancy and intellectual.  I have a history which has shaped me into an empathetic, nurturing, giving, “nice” kind of guy (among my many wonderful qualities).  This “niceness” byproduct of my history oozes out across all areas of my life and is part of my best self, and is the source of a significant challenge for me when it comes to RAK.  Part of the history which hand-crafted this gloriously complicated human involved interacting over many years with some important people in my life who were struggling with their own histories such that they were Bottomless Pits of Want. Their very human and understandable drive to fill that empty wanting place creates an intensely lonely isolation and desperate hunger that interferes with the belonging and connection they fundamentally need. Now picture pouring pitchers of water into a sieve, trying to fill it, and, because you are an empathetic, nurturing, giving, “nice” kind of human, you do this for years, decades.

Too melodramatic? It is hard to find the right balance.  Your patience is appreciated, and your abandonment of this post would be understandable

Why does this matter for what we are talking about?  What does this have to do with RAK? Oh, my bad.  I thought the connection was obvious.  This has to do with RAK because there are some people whose wants and needs are massive, huge icebergs floating through the shipping lanes of our daily lives.  Some are easy to spot (the homeless), others more difficult (pretty much anyone we might encounter).  Of course RAK is not about rescuing people or in any way trying to fill Bottomless Pits, but being fully present often means becoming aware and acknowledging on some level that there are abandoned, neglected, hideous, wolfish children under the Ghost of Christmas Present’s robes.  So, for me, there is both the reminder of sadness of futile attempts to fill a sieve and of the pain that remained for that person with the Bottomless Pit, and the sting that comes from stepping into someone else’s day and sensing the depth of the iceberg below the water line.  I think I am mixing my metaphors, but hopefully you will kindly stack them into neat piles for me.

My own wants?  Yeah……. undoubtedly there are issues here that RAK will continue to raise (Oh, goody! Another valuable growth experience), but this is a start (Thanks, Mr. Dickens!).  Want- abject, frightful, hideous child.  Think about people in your life who are on the Bottomless Pit end of the spectrum.  What descriptors come to mind? Don’t worry, you don’t need to tell anyone what those descriptors are, so please be honest. How about this one; imagine a friend is telling you about someone they think might be a good person for you to date.  They are attractive, smart, funny, nice, have a great job, you share interests, oh, and they are needy (Insert noise of a loud buzzer). Right?  Nobody wants to be with someone needy and nobody wants to be needy, especially if you have had encounters with the child Want.  Being needy, being Want is a fast track to rejection and a one-way ticket to Dumpsville, population me. But 1) everyone has needs and wants, you can’t get around that, and 2) Our culture (notice I switched blame to our culture rather than my history?  Clever move on my part) doesn’t provide good role models for how to appropriately express needs and wants.  I double checked the Owner’s Manual for Being an Adult- nowhere does it define what constitutes being “needy.” How the fuck are we supposed to know if we are being needy or not?  A wise strategy then becomes to hide our wants (under the robes of the Ghost of Christmas Present seems a good place), which, as you already know, doesn’t make the needs and wants go away and leads to all kinds of spectacular relationship and human interaction disasters.  Insert feedback loop of crazy and dysfunction.

Let’s not forget that Want has a brother.  Want and Ignorance are a package.  What are we supposed to do?  I don’t have clue of what we supposed to do. Here is an important piece for me to learn from RAK.  This adventure involves being willing to interact with others by being open to the moment, humble and without expectations about my role in their day (and vice versa), and without judgment of whatever comes up inside me pre-, during and post interaction.

Ugh, this really doesn’t capture the depth of what I am trying to convey.  Maybe you could flesh it out in your head and shape it into something that communicates something important?  I would appreciate it. In the meantime I will continue working on finding ways to understand and describe this whole process, this something that RAK is stirring.

 

Fear of Acts of Random Kindness: Part One

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Lion Statue Profile 10-2014

Random Acts of Kindness: A one year challenge

I know a young woman who, along with her husband, has inspired me to attempt something which is much more difficult than it might seem.

Today I gave a small amount of money to a woman who was begging, then I stopped and talked with her for a few minutes. Not about anything important; the weather, that there seemed to be a lot of people out today, then wished each other well.  This could just be the yoga talking (I was leaving a class) because you know how that kind of thing cranks up your inner Damn Hippie, but it seemed to me that the few moments of talking was more valuable to her than the money…..nah, probably not.

Sustaining random acts of kindness across an extended period of time, at least as I have defined the RAK Challenge (which is all that counts, right?), requires being open to the world around us, and, the longer we try to to maintain RAK, the more open we become which is increasingly scary. The is no better way to find your painful, frightened, sore-to-the-touch, fragile spots (sort of like where you are ticklish and did not know it….only not) than to attend, really attend, to what others in the world are evoking from you, because often what is being evoked does not represent the best parts of who you would like to be.

Why do you move toward some people and away from others? I mean literally physically drift toward some people and away from others, as well as psychologically.  If I pay attention to my day, I notice that I have dozens and dozens of micro-engagements that normally I am only vaguely aware of, if at all.  There is Something comforting just beneath the surface that pulls and pushes me as I move through my world. It is like my whole day is made up of a game of “getting warmer, getting colder.” This Something does a pretty good job of making my world feel safe. I am moved toward the attractive, familiar and predictable, and away from the ugly, strange and unpredictable.  Ah, nice….  A buffered space to keep my world cozy, like a favorite old sweatshirt.  It doesn’t matter what I might miss out on (There might have been balloons and pony rides and one of those big Moon Bounce things)  as long as this Something keeps me from dealing with the ugly, strange and unpredictable because that might be dangerous.

So how does this fit into RAK?  As I noted above, RAK requires us to be open to the world.  If I am going to be aware of those who might benefit from an act of random kindness, I have to be prepared to move toward people and situations I might not normally move toward.  The Something and RAK cannot exist in the same space at the same time (Maybe it is like matter and anti-matter?  That would be cool and sciencey).  I find that if I want to be available for RAK, the Something cannot be driving how I navigate the day.  It takes effort on my part, sometimes significant effort, to actively choose to take myself on a different course than the quiet waters the Something steers toward. I have to be willing to sail into stormy seas where there be monsters. Which sounds like a horrible idea, yes? (The answer is: Yes, that sounds like a horrible idea).

I am mocking myself, which is half the fun of writing this blog, for leading a life often characterized by avoidance, but I am keenly aware of how destructive this has been, especially to the people I love the most.  I suspect letting the Something helps us avoid is the root of many bad things that happen in the world around us: violence, depression, cruelty, prejudice, judging, isolation from other people, thinking your coworker is a complete idiot who deserves bad things,… I get it.  I have known this for years, and to my credit (and I want credit here) I have been working on being different in the world for quite some time…..with mixed success.  Not to point fingers here, but avoidance and automatically defaulting to letting the Something dictate the course of the day is how the vast majority of us live our lives, but I am not pointing fingers. I don’t know what pushes and pulls you as you move through your day, but I do know mine.  My Something has a name, and that name is “Fear.”   Almost never is it screaming and running down the halls fear (almost never), but fear nonetheless.

There is a powerful but rarely appreciated scene in Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol where the Ghost of Christmas Present pulls back his robe and reveals two emaciated and horrifying children: Ignorance and Want.  I think my Fear can be summarized by these two unwanted and neglected children. Let’s start with Ignorance, which Dickens warns us to be most afraid of, although personally Want is scarier to me.  I suspect most of us encounter people everyday who we perceive as ugly, strange and unpredictable (i.e., Danger, Danger, Danger!!), and we avoid them, walk away, walk around, don’t make eye contact, do not in anyway acknowledge them, do not in anyway acknowledge that they are a person.   These dangerous characters are everywhere!  The homeless, the mentally ill, the drug addicts, the street corner preachers, people on the Metro, driving to work, on the street corners, some of them even work in my building.  It becomes so easy to see these people as The Other.  Not part of me, not a member of my group, not even really another person, just an obstacle to be navigated around.  Tara Brach does a much better job than I ever can in talking about this (TaraBrach.com), but we’re not on her website right now, are we?

I do not know these creatures.  I do not want to know these creatures.  I am ignorant of their status as humans and prefer to keep it that way.  But then there is this fucking RAK thing. Damn it!!  Remaining ignorant prevents me from being fully present with this person, from stepping, even if just for a moment, into their world which may be full of suffering, whether they be the homeless guy by the stoplight, the cleaning woman who empties the trash, the coworker you think is a dick wad although you have never actually spoken with him.  Note I am not saying throw caution to the wind and chase after drug addicts down darkened alleyways (Wait, I can help!) or be completely vulnerable to untrustworthy people (Your coworker may in fact be a dick wad) or empty your wallet when the homeless guy asks for money (I suspect you need that money yourself).  For me a fundamental element of doing random acts of kindness is to be a smidge less ignorant regarding this creature that theoretically might be human, to listen when an Other talks, to make eye contact and say “hi” even when I don’t give the homeless guy money.  This is part of why I put on my Big Boy pants and stopped to talk to an ugly, strange and unpredictable homeless woman, instead of just scurrying by.

All of this may be completely irrelevant to you or anyone other than me, but for me another piece of the puzzle is falling into place, there is an understanding, still quite vague, that is taking shape.  What of the other orphan?  What of Want?  I will talk about her when I blog again, or perhaps I should quit while I am ahead.

RAK Before 7:00 AM

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Woods 2014-10

Random Acts of Kindness: A one year challenge

I know a woman who just had an important article published in the scientific journal Translational Medicine that highlighted how easy it is for people to dismiss other people as people, especially within the social media space: 1) Link to Article http://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s13142-014-0256-1 2) Journal’s Press Release: http://www.springer.com/gp/about-springer/media/springer-select/fat-chats-the-good-the-bad-and-the-ugly-comments/35816 3) New York Times coverage: http://op-talk.blogs.nytimes.com/2014/10/03/shamed-flamed-harassed-what-its-like-to-be-called-fat-online/?_php=true&_type=blogs&_php=true&_type=blogs&_r=1&

I like to get up early in the morning.  I probably would have made a good farmer given that they are always up early milking the chickens and other farmer stuff.  When I wake up, I often feel like my brain is in a calm state of purring along in neutral.  If this lasts for more than a few minutes that is a special day that should be noted on the calendar.  Like an auditorium filling with students, thoughts about my day almost immediately begin to trickle in, as the seats fill so does the noise level.  Before long, the place is packed and noisy as thoughts about the day ahead come pouring in; tasks that must be addressed, crisis that need to be mediated, worries about the troubles of people I am close to, conflicts I need to step into and help resolve, responsibilities ahead and those I left un-dealt with from previous days, not to mention my own worries, sadness, anxiety and anger (who let those guys in?). When I have the wherewithal to attend to the process of this gathering, I am surprised and amused at how rapidly I can go from being calm and centered to completely engrossed in being projected into my day and far into my past.  If this were a marketable skill, you would be seeing me on the cover of Forbes, ooohh or perhaps winning an Olympic medal for sprinting away from being anything close to in the present moment, sort of an anti-Zen award.

I have been working on this “being present” shit for quite a while.  Incorporating RAK into my days has contributed to this Damn Hippie process as I must try to pay more attention (at least sporadically), to make an effort (and it is an effort for me) to be present.

A bit of context for the random act of kindness I am writing about today. I walk my dogs in the morning (they are complete wussies when it comes to heat).  For several years, before taking on this challenge, I have tried to pay attention while on these walks; I like walking in the woods, we often see cool things like deer (Yesterday a large owl sitting in a tree which, I cannot lie, was truly awesome!!).  But no matter how beautiful the woods, inspiring the sunrise, the day ahead barges in and demands attention. Sometimes these rude intrusions occur when my brain doesn’t even have anything to say and is just being obnoxious and flexing its distraction muscles.  For example, on this morning’s walk, the children’s song “As I was going to St. Ives, I met a man with 7 wives….” was playing over and over again in my head. Seriously? Seriously?? Are you fucking kidding me? You couldn’t just enjoy the sunrise for a few moments?  St. Ives??

With this as backdrop, I want to point to a RAK from a few weeks back (Yes, remember I am so taking credit for RAKs I did in the weeks before I decided to tackle a whole year).  This was about a week after The Woman I Know had passed away. It was shortly after dawn and Etta and I were coming out of the woods and walking through part of our neighborhood.  We came upon a well-dressed woman who had just done a nice job of parking in her friend’s flowerbed. As she stood next to her car, assessing her handiwork, I said good morning to her.  She apologized for parking so poorly.  I said I hadn’t noticed (A lie) but I didn’t think it really mattered that much (A truth). We both (well actually the 3 of us because Etta stopped to smell the flowers or what was left of them) took a moment to look at the flower bed, and, in rapid disjointed sentences, her story gushed out.

Of all weird things, she was on her way to her best friend’s funeral in Philadelphia. Never a morning person, she was completely disorganized, kept losing her train of thought and just couldn’t get her shit together to actually leave town in order to be at the funeral on time.  She started crying and doing that hand-wavy-thing that some people do when they get really upset. Then she stopped crying, told herself to pull it together, then looked at me and told me she didn’t know what to do.

What did I do next?  Some heroic gesture like drive her to Philly?  Maybe go the other direction and steal her purse?  No, those things are outside the rules of RAK (not to mention just plain silly).  What I did do was tell her she was not alone in her pain.  I told her about the death of This Woman I know, her grieving husband and the large circle of friends who were struggling and hurting.  I told her that I understood how much this sucked, how awful this pain was.  I tried to squeeze as much being fully present with this person for this single moment as I possibly could. When Etta and I walked away, she called me her “angel” and said I saved her.  I laughed and told her to remember to breath.  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I am an Evil Genius, and I waited to turn the corner before doing a happy dance for completing my RAK for the day before 7:00 in the morning.

Our whole interaction lasted less than 5 minutes.  Our interaction didn’t take away her pain, didn’t fix this fucked up situation- nothing could do that.  I think it did reduce her isolation and spinning in her broken heart, even if for a short time.  I hope she thought of that moment throughout her awful day.  I have no clue if she did. For me, it was a powerful moment that has stayed with me and I continue to try to understand.

Although I most certainly wouldn’t have been rude, I would have kept walking after smiling and providing my initial socially acceptable lie-truth comment.  But the inspiration from the Woman I Know and her husband put me in a different space that morning, a space where I stopped to really take notice of another person, found them to be suffering, and then to fully be with them, even if for only a few minutes.

Maybe part of it is about not being so alone in our saddest (or happiest) moments?  Offering our courage to others who have run out because it feeds us all? And desperately hoping they will offer their courage to us when we run out of our own? I did warn you I have a propensity for the Hallmark moment and sappiness. Although, even if my words are headed for the script of a bad made-for-TV movie, I think there is something in what I am saying, something important, something that might be “true.”  Maybe this year of random kindness will help root out that “that” that my words fail to capture.  Or not.

 

Dogs

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Etta Squishy Face 2014_10Ellie 2014_10

Random Acts of Kindness: A one year challenge

I know a young woman whose husband performed the heart-shattering task of going through all of his wife’s things and deciding what to do with each one of them.  Thank God he had close friends at his side as such feats should never be attempted without a support net.

RAK: This is a long post so if you don’t feel like reading the brilliant and witty words to follow, here is the RAK accomplished. I have twice anonymously contributed toward the vet bill of someone who could not cover the cost of treating a sick animal at my vet’s office.

Disclaimer:  I think relationships with animals are an extremely important part of being a caring person, so I am not dissing loving your pets (or me loving mine) in anyway.

What I am writing about today is most certainly not an original idea (You: How is this different from anything else he writes? Me: Ouch), although maybe some of this will offer a new perspective…. or not.

One of core features that has been wired into us humans is the drive to be connected with other humans, to have relationships, to belong. It doesn’t matter if you want to approach this from a cut-and-dry evolutionary perspective (we are social animals and those who could form strong attachments to other humans were more likely to survive),  or from the vantage of a more spiritual way of viewing it (being able to connect and form close relationships with empathy for the suffering of others is a crucial aspect of being a healthy and whole person, having a soul).  In fact, we have whole diagnostic categories for people with various inabilities to form these attachments to humans; misanthrope, narcissist, sociopath, some of the diagnosis within the Autism Spectrum Disorders.

The bottom line is we fiercely want this kind of connection, we need this kind of connection.  Our #1 priority in this realm, connect with humans.  But, there is a ton of shit that can make it really hard to do this.  I don’t think we need to begin listing what that ton of shit can be as I am going to guess you can point to some of that shit in your history, current life, and the world around you.  For those of you who are more on the Damn Hippie end of the spectrum, I highly recommend checking out Tara Brach’s blog, website and (awesome) podcasts at www.tarabrach.com/  …but only for those you leaning toward hippie.  The rest of us should stay where we are.

All kinds of fascinating and painful things spin off this ton of shit; crappy relationships (yes, pun intended),  hoarding (stuff! I have successfully formed a relationship with stuff!!) and animals (I don’t see where one more cat/dog/elephant would be much of an added burden).  Before we go on and you see the next section as impressively crazy, you can have appropriate “relationships” with stuff and animals as well.

Does it seem like I am too pedantic there? Too long a setting of context?  Bordering on ranting and raving?  Sorry.

Back to RAK then.  I currently have 2 dogs and 2 cats (Don’t judge me because I have a foot in both the Dog and Cat camps).  Within a little more than a month, both of my dogs (Ellie and Etta) have been diagnosed with cancer.  Ellie has had surgery and Etta will soon have hers.

I know a lot about cancer (Cancer plays a role in what I do for a living).  I had balanced and clinically-knowledgeable conversations with multiple vets.  I understand the survival curves and that their fates are by no means sealed, and I was devastated.  I successfully made it out of the vets’ office when each diagnosis came without crying, and sobbed driving home.  I am talking turning-on-the-windshield-wipers-because-you-think-it-must-be-raining sobbing.  Why then?  Why when I found out they had cancer? I know they may both survive and death is not imminent even if there is a giant existential clock ticking.

Here is what I think (Please note that I will likely change my mind a few months down the road and may or may not offer the new ideas within this blog.  Consider yourself warned.): The drive to form unconditional, intimate relationships.  There is no one in my life who has ever loved me with such acceptance and fullness as my dogs.  I have had some wonderful relationships with some really great women, but never with the fully unafraid heart of my dogs.  Let me quickly state that this is in no way the fault of any of the women who have been such an important part of my life.  No, it has been my fault.  I have been afraid to get that close and I did not let them get close enough.  I may have a history which makes that challenging, but, fuck, don’t we all have a ton of shit lurking in the corners?

I sobbed because I am terrified that the two creatures who love me most in the world, that I am most strongly connected with, are going to die.  And then I will be unloved, unconnected in that way. Scary shit, right? One of the important things to note here is that I have wonderful people in my life, a lot of wonderful people who care deeply about me, and I care deeply about them.  And the two beings I feel closest to are my dogs.  What does this say about me and, to diffuse the white hot spotlight of introspection from solely being focused on me, many people’s relationships?  You can draw your own conclusions, but here is mine. In dealing with my own ton of shit, I have created a barrier between myself and even those who are closest to me.  To protect myself from things I feared, I disconnected.  Now I am not the person I was when I was a teen and young adult, but there is still a long way to go in forming true connections which involved being totally vulnerable. Also scary shit, right? That is one of the things this RAK stuff has made clear to me.  In order to be open and available to perform a random act of kindness as defined by the rules I outlined in a previous post, you have to be present, you have to see someone in the ocean humans as an individual person, and you have to, even if ever so briefly, connect with them as that individual person.

In looking back on it, I think I made donations to help someone else care for their pet  so they might feel less alone, like someone else felt the pain of the impending death of a creature who they connected with.  Most of all though, I think doing this gave me the chance to step out of my own grief and into the world of another specific person and their pain, to feel a connection to an individual I will never meet, but a real person nonetheless.

 

 

Airports

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Airplane Clouds #2 2014Airplane Clouds 2014

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Random Acts of Kindness: A one year challenge

I know a young woman whose husband is grieving.

In my experience, airports are places where a large number of the people are spinning in anxiety and trying to control it with whatever skills they have, which often amounts to being angry and “overly assertive.”  Of course, not everyone is anxious or airports would have melted under the emotional radioactive fallout many years ago, but there is certainly enough to be setting off the Geiger counters.

By its very nature, an airport is a particularly difficult place to be present.  The whole purpose of an airport is to be anywhere but here, to as quickly as possible be in some other moment than the one presented by the airport.  Add to this that much of our fellow travelers show up at the airport flustered, stressed , probably tired and, according to at least one member of the traveling team, running late (I told you we should have left 30 minutes earlier; Who takes the fucking beltway at this time of day??).  And now the coup de grace, at the airport we are laser focused on achieving what we feel into our very marrow to be a crucial, tightly defined objective (Must. Get. Out.) AND almost every aspect of this airport endeavor is completely out of our control.  You cannot control the security lines, flight delays, how far your gate is, connecting flights, who your new plane friends will be, ….. Hell, you don’t even get to drive the plane for part of the trip anymore (Ok, I made that one up).  You get to buy the ticket, which hopefully more or less matches your needs.  After that, you pretty much got nothing that is within your power to change.

Now I am sure that this says something weird about me, but for me, the most stressful part of this ritual?  Getting to the airport and finding parking.  After I find parking and walk into the terminal, I am pretty much good for whatever happens next.  Weird, right, but we all have our special pressure points.  At some point, I should probably explore why I am such a cool dude, after parking, but today is not that day.  Today: Airports and RAK

Given all this near desperate neediness and worry, air ports are a RAKing shopping mall.  You cannot swing your  “one personal item” with your iPhone, iPad and laptop in it, along with a stash of snacks in case you don’t want to pay  $12 for a can of Pringles on the plane, without hitting someone who would benefit from a random act of kindness.  Indeed, probably benefit greatly from the smallest of kindnesses. AND it is also a jungle filled with  fierce, angry, cornered beasts with sharp teeth and claws….also known as our fellow travelers.  “Not at their best” would be a delicate way to describe the fact that under these circumstances many people embrace their inner asshole.  Some of our fellow blobs of flesh are not in the mood to embrace kindness at this time.  This sucks for all who encounter them, even “nice” people.

Airplane Clouds #3 2014

And, once again, a legitimate question would be what is his point?  Can he please just get to his point?  Thank you for your patience, but we needed context .  This is the point, why do we offer Random Acts of Kindness?  Cui bono? Latin for “to whose benefit?”  (I wish I could say that I knew that because I am so fucking cultured, but I heard it in a talk a few weeks back and it really struck me).  Anyway, cui bono?    To whose benefit?  Are we doing this RAK shit because we expect that people will be grateful?  That everyone we meet will be so impressed by our kindness?  That people’s lives will be changed because of a brief interaction, albeit a unique and potential powerful one?  The bitter truth is that not everyone (fools that they are) will recognize the gift we are offering.  Some people will tell us to fuck off, or at best look at us with suspicion and mistrust, which is fair given the aversive world so many of us encounter every day.

Who thinks this suck and it hurts their feelings?  Me, me, pick me!!  Truth; it hurts my feelings and kind of wounds me when this happens.  I usually just slink away like a sad little puppy.  Of course later on I am like, “Hey, fuck you, Mr. Man, and your grumpy self.  I was being fucking kind.  I hope you get run over by a garbage truck!  Fucker….” (More sad self).  Cui bono?  Why am I doing this?

Hanging my head in shame here.  As much as I would love for this to be about me (and prizes), on some level I get that it can’t be about me .  If I am truly engaging in the RAK Challenge, I need to be open to however people respond including that not everyone is going to be in a place where what I have to offer matters or is accepted.  And when someone rejects my RAK, it still counts as a RAK (full credit!) and I have to keep doing this, because it is about being in the world in this way for a year, even when it would be a lot more fun to be home eating chips and watching bad TV.  Damn.  Maybe I will get extra credit for RAK in the face of adversity?

So, at the airport a couple days ago, returning from a few days of helping to care for a family member with Alzheimer’s Disease (A whole long story for another post down the road).  There was a young woman with a small child and a baby who were clearly Spawn of Satan, or maybe simply 2 small children up too early in the morning and in a strange place with a totally fried mother…either way.  It was not going well; crying infant, small child embracing the freedom that only the wide open plains that are the airport terminal halls can offer, mother struggling with carry on, coffee and smartphone.  Obviously an opportunity to offer a random act of kindness, right?  Yeah, not so much.  My offer to help her find her gate and arrive without dropping her baby on its pumpkin head was firmly rejected.  On the bright side, seeing a strange man talk to her mom did draw the carefree lass back closer to the protection of the herd.   So, I picked up my wounded self and went on my way.  Of course, turning the whole interaction over in my head in a Tasmanian Devil whirling tornado of thoughts that alternated between self-righteous anger and self-deprecating criticism.  Somehow in this maelstrom, I was able to step back and think about this women’s world and where she psychologically was, and how interacting with me fit into her day. Cui bono?   And, yes, ouch, that sucked, and it was not about me.

I did help an old lady get a massive suitcase off the baggage carousel later that day, so clearly a check mark in the win column for me.

The rules for the RAK Challenge

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Mandela 2014_10

Random Acts of Kindness: A one year challenge

I know a young woman who I will not forget.  Thanks for still reading…..assuming you are.  So I don’t have to awkwardly include “assuming you are” every time, I am going to go ahead and assume that there is a you, even it is only my daughter who I am sure will read this if for no other reason than it will amuse her  (Although secretly she will probably think it is cool on some level.  Don’t worry, Sweetie, we will never speak of this again).

So, here are the rules I am playing by, and if you want to play RAK Challenge even if for a day, you have to follow the rules or you are playing some different game. Yes, very bossy I know (and many people in my life would agree with you) but this is important.  Ok, you are right, I don’t know if it is truly important, but I think it may be, so we will follow these rules.

#1 No RAK is too small to “count.”  Putting your neighbor’s newspaper on the porch when you are out walking the dogs, holding the door for someone with their hands full, saying something kind to the checkout woman at the grocery store when you saw the previous customer be an asshole;  these all count.  I have been surprised at how little often seems to do so much within someone else’s day.  Of course, it also counts when RAKs require more from you in terms of time, resources and perhaps most of all psychological presences.

#2 The RAK must involve doing something, as opposed to not doing something you might normally do.  So not stealing your co-worker’s lunch when you perhaps might do that every so often, does NOT count.  Not screaming “you mother fucking bastard!” when a driver cuts you off; does NOT count. RAK within my game is defined by intentionally doing something.

#3 Speaking of intentionality, and I think this may be a key rule, you must pay attention to what you are doing and acknowledge it in your head, “This is a random act of kindness.”  Why?  Why is he putting yet another rule on this?  Fair question; here is why, I may be the only human person who does this, but it is easy for me to walk through my life and not really pay attention to what is happen, in particular not pay attention to people as “people.”  I happen to be a “nice guy” and I literally do dozens of acts of kindness pretty much every day, but a huge number of those are on automatic pilot.  I am not actually paying attention much to what I am doing. Way more importantly, maybe, is that I am not actually paying attention to the other human as a human, as an individual person with needs and longings and dreams and a ton of shit which is making it hard to get those things fulfilled.

Side note: Be warned, I have a tendency toward the Hallmark Greeting Card, Norman Rockwell, After School Special Movie, but I am sincere about it, and I am also completely fine with you rolling your eyes at some of these deeply felt but ridiculously stated observations.  Believe me, my family and friends feel your pain and are right there with you on the eye roll.  If it helps, I also will be saying “fuck” a lot.

Anyway, Rule #3 matters and is characterized by doing something on purpose, paying attention to the fact that you are doing, and also being aware, if only for a moment, that that blob of walking flesh is a specific, individual person. It also completely legit to do a little moon-walk dance and give yourself a high five for completing a RAK, and/or be relieved that you have been able to check that off the day’s to-do list.

#4  It does not count as RAK if what you do hurts you physically, psychologically, emotionally, financially, whatever.  This is not the Random Acts of Martyrdom Challenge.  Different game, and I am sure they do have a blog for RAM,

#5 I found this to better if you don’t tell the person; “Hey, that was my random act of kindness for the day.”   For me, some of the most meaningful RAK, keeping in mind that I am not at all sure what meaningful means yet….maybe never will, were things that I did anonymously.  Now this may only be important for me to do.  I am a driven, goal oriented (but “nice”) person and it is a big deal to me to get credit for achieving things. So for me, doing things that people don’t know I did and I will never get credit for is an important part of this.

Wait…..this doesn’t really sound like a rule, I thought he was laying out the rules.   What the fuck?  Fair enough. Rule #5 is a strong suggestion.

#6 You don’t have to like it. You don’t have to wake up and be all filled with the juices of life shouting, “Thank God, thank God! Another joyous day of random acts of kindness. This is awesome.”  You do not have to feel all rosy and cheery and warm when you have done some random act of kindness.  You don’t have to suffer if you play this game. You don’t have to feel smug and self-righteous.  You don’t have to feel like you’re a good person should you choose to try a little bit of RAK. You don’t have feel like you are bad person if you think this is bullshit and never do a single RAK, or you do a few then quit for whatever reason. You don’t have to feel angry or happy or sad.  You don’t have to feel anything and, conversely, anything you do feel is ok.

So far for me 4 weeks in, I often feel this sense of connection with the other person, which is powerful and nice and warm and fuzzy, AND I also feel a strong undercurrent of sadness.  Part of this game for me is going to be to try to understand what comes up.  So I am going to have to pay attention to not only the warm fuzzies (think puppies) but also to the scary, difficult, and prickly (think sea urchin, but a really big one, like one from an old science fiction movie, a bad movie).

So Rule #6 is basically allow yourself feel whatever you feel about a specific RAK and about the whole game….. if anyone else is playing.

I know a woman

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Define Tattoo 2014_10

Random Acts of Kindness: A one year challenge

Entry #1

I know a young woman.  Many good stories start this way, so you just know you will want to read this blog.  I can tell.  This young woman had a PhD and worked at the National Cancer Institute and the Food and Drug Administration investigating how to help people avoid developing cancers associated with behaviors that often cause cancer.

About a year ago, this young woman was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer.  Throughout the last year, a community of friends, co-workers and acquaintances rose up to provide practical and emotional support via a Facebook page.  Toward the end of this year is when the “Ice Bucket Challenge” went viral and some of this young woman’s friends wanted to do this for her.  She did not want this.  Instead she asked people to do a random act of kindness and then post back what to her page what it was.

This idea struck something in me and I decided to do it big….well, relatively big.  I vowed to do what we now called the Random Act of Kindness Challenge (RAK) every day for a full 6 weeks, the time from when I started to the end of the Government fiscal year.  I don’t know why I vowed to do this for this much time. Part of me was like “Woo hoo!  Go, me (insert smug dance)” and part of me was like “don’t be such a fucking dumbass, this really matters.”  I don’t know why but there was a part of me that realized this was important.

I was part of this community but having been more of an acquaintance than anything else, I had mostly been watching from the fringes, occasionally making supportive comments to FB, donating some sick leave through work, a small cash donation here and there, blah, blah, blah.  Not that these things did not matter, I truly believe they did, but they were easy to do from a safe, emotionally distance place.  I could feel  like I was being a great human being and “nice”, while avoiding having to confront the emotional pain of this human being I knew dying.

I would like to say that it was from powerful psychological insight and awareness of how I was not allowing myself to truly be present for the physical and emotional pain experienced by this young woman and her husband and family and friends that that led me to commitment to 6 weeks of daily RAK.  Buttttttt, that would be a stretch.  I will say up front that I am pretty fucking smart, a “visionary” leader in my field and am VBVI (very busy, very important. (HA!)), but thinking is not really what I do best.  I am more about boyish enthusiasm and the ability to nurture talent in others than the ability to logically, thoughtfully come to the truth.

For whatever reason, I stepped into RAK. I every day since then I have performed a random act of kindness, some kind of big, many small, some of which made someone else’s life easier for a moment, some of which seemed to truly touch people in a meaningful way.  I am currently at the end of my 4th week, 2 to go.

This young woman died unexpectedly 2 weeks ago.

I cried when I heard the news.  I cried and felt the pain of loss in ways that I would not have if I had not started doing RAK. I don’t know why.  I have some ideas why this may have happened, but I am not sure.  Something important happened even from doing this for only a few weeks.  In all honesty I think I sensed it within the first couple days, but could not put a word on it.  I still can’t (Please refer to the above note regarding thinking not being what I do) but I feel it is there.  Something has changed.  I don’t know if it is a good change (Is there a nomination for a Noble Peace Prize in my future?) or a bad change (Am I moving further down the Evil Genesis track?), or even a change that matters…..or will maintain.  But let’s see what happens.

So that is some background on what I am starting….ok, continuing because I SO get credit for the first 4 weeks. I am going to take on the RAK Challenge for a year.  Yup 365 days….minus the days I have already done because I did some awesome RAK in that time, plus it would sort of be cheating to imply that I was a super solid RAK-er when I have had 4 weeks of practice.  I should probably write the date down somewhere so I know when I am done.  I would hate to do extra days.

So where does this blog fit in?  At its most basic, I will feel accountable for writing about what is happening.  I have a strong need to please and I will feel guilty and like I am letting people down if I don’t write, even if I am the only one who ever reads this.  Second, there is something going on here that I want to understand better.  Given my lack of thinking (despite being super smart- I want that on the record), writing will help me do some of that thinking and processing outside of my head (which tends to be a loud and cluttered place).

Where do you fit in?  First let’s acknowledge that there may not be a you, now or ever, but, if for some reason there was a you, it would be cool if you read about how it is going.  No need to do anything else.  If for some unexplained reason you wanted to try out some random acts of kindness, that would be amazing and an interesting addition to this experiment.  Next blog I will explain the rules, because ever good game has rules.  How else do you know if you are winning, right?