On the sidewalk In the hospital At the mall In the grocery store aisle
In the elevator At the dentist’s office In the waiting room Standing in line
Making eye contact Ready to smile wide At the cute baby And their exhausted and attentive mama
Inviting greetings Inciting connection Noticed for how different It feels to see and be seen
In a world that can feel so cold So distant, lonely, and isolating
The Resting Peace Face Our peaceful presence In any space, among any humans Could mean more than we can imagine
as seen on Instagram
Been basking in the love of friends and books lately. Walking around with a noticeable half smile, even more than usual. Waving every day to the crossing guard by Daughter’s school, and the homeless dude by Lake Shore Drive. Just *feelin‘* it, y’all–reveling, soaking it up.
Not sure if smiling can actually beget happiness Or if it’s only the other way around. Does it matter? How can we get more of it all, regardless?
I know that when someone smiles at me, I automatically smile back, and it feels good. So why not do the world around me this little bit of good, wherever I am? Costs me nothing. And I (we all?) gain so, so much.
Onward, my friends. Life is short. Connect and heal. One smiling Peace Face encounter at a time.
Looking back, I wish I had been better for you. When you knew me, I was young in the work. I was well trained and I understood the task in my thinking mind. But I had (still have) a lot to learn about relating to people who are different from me, people whose behavior I don’t understand easily, who rub me the wrong way at first.
I wonder if you felt disliked by me? I hope I was professional/amiable enough, but I know I wear my feelings on my face. My tone and words can be terse and even cold when I feel disconnection. I hope you still felt respected, attended to, even cared for. If not, I own it. I remember you because I knew it at the time–knew I was not my best with you, and yet I could not help it. I had only yet begun the inner work journey that has brought me to today.
I know so much better now. I am so much more self-aware, humble, honest, and accountable. I withhold most judgment now, unlike before. I engage with difference now in openness and curiosity, and take few things personally. I am so much more peaceful inside. Even when I get triggered these days, it’s much less intense and lasts minutes, maybe hours, instead of days. I am far better at asking direct questions to clarify meaning, calling out disrespect, and connecting better or amicably exiting a poor relationship. I don’t let things hang or fester like before.
If/when we meet again, I welcome the chance to reconnect and apologize. I want to show you how much I have learned and grown since you knew me, since I had my potentially negative impact on you. I was doing the best I could, with what I had, at that time. I still am. There is no substibute for experience and time.
Please know that my relationship with you, through its challenge and difficulty, has been the pebble in my shoe making me more mindful, more intentional. I thank you for crossing my path, showing me my deficits and calling me to address them. I hope my future relationships will show my progress, so that even if I cannot make direct amends to you, I can avoid doing similar harm to others. You have made me better.
Wishing you peace, and people in your life who show up better for you than I did. I will stay on my path, and if we meet again, I will smile.
She sits back, breathes deeply, and looks around in satisfaction. The house is no more of a pigsty than usual. Meals were planned and cooked, laundry completed, child chaufferred, workout routine maintained (other than during travel). AND SHE GOT TO BED ON TIME MOST NIGHTS. That may have been the greatest accomplishment–the first NaBlo in 9 attempts that did not cost 30 days of sleep and physical health. WIN. Another month of daily extemporaneous writing in the books.
Observations, Learnings, Applications
After all this time, I can finally admit and embrace that I am a Night Writer. I can put down anybody else’s advice to get up early and do it in the morning, or even during my days off. That’s just not me. All-nighters are not me, either. My ideal writing time seems to be around 9-11pm. Looking ahead, this feels like a doable schedule for the book. Like workouts, I can aim for 5 nights a week and plan ahead each weekend, so there is routine with flexibility, and long term consistency.
I feel self-conscious writing too much about myself–my own stories, thoughts, feelings, ‘musings’. Navel gazing. Who wants to read that every day? But this desire to connect my own experiences to others’, to make meaning and touch on a larger, more resonant scale–where can I start but with my own lived history? And the ‘lesson’ parts can really come across as pedantic, no? So, I can look for ways to improve my storytelling and delivery, be both personable and knowledgeable–relatable. I want the book to feel like the best clinical encounter–query, intake, reflection, suggestion, action plan, follow up–connecting, learning, empowering, and always forward moving.
Practice makes better. The words are in there, and they don’t have to be fully formed or organized before pulling them out to the page or keyboard. Like icing out of a squeeze bag, ideas and expressions will take shape depending on temperature, pressure, movement, and tip. But regardless of the conditions, output is needed. It can be reshaped later; I just need to sit down regularly and squish it out in the first place. I’ got this.
Though I chose the 30 NaBlo topics a bit haphazardly, they were all meaningful, and the order in which some of them emerged felt organic as I wrote each day. If I were to continue, I’d add curiosity, kindness, and generosity to the list. Redundant, I know. The longer I write this blog, the more times I repeat myself and refer back to pieces I wrote years ago. And it’s okay. It’s just taken me this long to convince myself that I have something useful and relevant, something timeless to contribute, a thing worth amplifying. I had to build up the confidence, make it strong and solid. Now I’m ready.
Writing a book will be different from a blog, and now I have accumulated enough of both discipline and surrender to let some good writing flow from the deeper places. An image of volcanic magma emerges–not spewing in great explosions with atmosphere-darkening ash clouds, but a slow, burbling ooze, hot a pliable, soft and layered, unstoppable yet unobtrusive, solidifying over time to create new islands, smooth and round rather than jagged, places where we can stand together quietly in wonder and explore, from whence new perspective and understanding may grow.
Many thanks to all who have followed along this month. Could the post titles have been more boring? Overall it was not my best published output, but the intent all along was to use this month as personal and public writing lab for book work prep. It feels to me like time and energy well spent, worth the effort, and work I will refer back to often. Now to find the new routine, book and blog juxtaposition/integration? A fun new fork on the writing trail, yay! Or ooo, maybe a convergence. I trust it will all work out, unfold, and emerge in good time and space. Can’t wait.
Healing Through Connection 