It has taken time. Our initial meeting may or may not have facilitated it. You may or may not have made it easy. I persisted. And now we have been through things together. It has been well worth the effort and energy.
You know me. This is easy, as I wear my heart on my sleeve–always have. It doesn’t take much to know me; but I don’t let just anybody in. I give the benefit of the doubt; I also trust my protective instincts.
Time. There is no substitute. And it’s not enough. Knowing requires engagement, intentional and volitional. Time helps, providing opportunity, enabling continuity.
With enough time and encounters, knowing emerges organically. Over years and decades it becomes intuitive, if we pay attention.
I see you. I think of you when I see things you like. I hear you–not just when you speak, but when you cross my mind. I anticipate your words and expressions in response to ideas and opinions. I know you.
Knowing and feeling known nourish us. No matter the context. We are wired to connect–to one another, our fellow humans. Meeting over and again, small and big moments alike, each building on the last. Memories accumulating, recollections shared.
Life unfolds. We are who we are at our core, and continue to be so. We also learn, grow, and evolve. Change and stay the same. Those who know us see no contradiction here. Rather, known in our wholeness over time, in continuity, we all make sense.
This season, may we reflect on and consider how we know and are known. May we find the courage and resolution to express and connect in depth and meaning. May we practice openness, curiosity, non-judgment, and acceptance more than other things. May our relationships strengthen and tighten in the best ways.
In this life, our relationships save us. Continuity of connection, if we have the fortune, is a priceless gift. Let us not take it for granted.
Pietà, Michelangelo, Rome, Italy. Photo by Phara Blair
“Partnership with a good dog has millions of advantages over partnership with even the best human being.” —Bride and Groom, Susan Conant
What would you write, given ten minutes with this prompt?
Below is my take, and then some reflections. Thanks to friend Joan for choosing the prompt, and for hosting Sara and me for another Mallon Writers session the other evening. We’re coming up on a year as a group, and I am so grateful for these women.
Humans.
We are remarkable–remarkably creative, resourceful, intelligent, and SHITTY. We are wired to connect; we crave it, require it. And yet we are terrible at it too often.
How can we reconcile this paradox? Every day we can find myriad examples of both the immense kindness and altruism, and also the most unspeakably heinous violence and destruction–all visited by us on ourselves.
FASCINATING.
What determines our behavior?
Do we each believe ourselves capable of the highest and lowest that humans can do? I do.
I believe that under certain circumstances, any given person has the potential to behave in any given way. To me, this is the most realistic and humble way to approach human nature. We think we know so much; and yet the vast majority of our behaviors and relationships are driven by how we feel. And we are largely, I think willfully, blind to this reality. Most of us live our lives far from the extremes of human altruism and violence, but I think it’s our denial of the potential of both within all/each of us that facilitates the expression of the worst by some of us.
How would the world operate if we were just a lot (or even a little) more honest about our shadows? About our light?
How interesting that the best and worst of both aspects of our nature are so unsafe to share, to remotely acknowledge the possible existence of?
Humans. We are complex, emotional beings who delude ourselves into thinking we are rational, and we oversimplify to avoid discomfort.
Oh well, it is what it is; we are what we are. Amazing–and maybe not?–that we have survived as long as we have.
Altruistic and malevolent. Collective and individualistic. Fit in and stand out. Masculine and feminine.
Readers of this blog know how I embrace and relish a good, integrative paradox. The older I get the more deeply I appreciate complexity, nuance, and the importance of context and circumstance. My mounting enthusiasm for it all seems to fly counter to prevailing cultural winds wherein overgeneralization, oversimplification, and refusal to recognize, let alone tolerate or engage with complexity seem to stymie our leaders and systems with alarmingly powerful force.
Where are the leaders who can not only dance gracefully with complexity, but also lead us by example doing it?
Some days I can’t decide if I’m a cynic or an optimist. I know I’m both, and I lean net optimist. I think we are all both; thankfully we don’t all lean cynic for too long at the same time. We all hold the tension within ourselves, swayed one way or another at any given time by myriad simultaneous variables. It is what it is; we are what we are. We have survived for thousands of years and yet, thousands–even hundreds–more are not guaranteed by any means. It all depends on how we–individually and collectively–decide to treat one another and our planet, both today and forever.
1. Upon waking, get sunlight for at least several minutes before getting on any screen 2. Delay caffeine intake for at least 45 minutes after waking
I also committed to writing Morning Pages (3 pages, long hand, stream of consciousness journaling) in those first 15-30 minutes, which was actually the primary goal. The point of the practice is to unlock clarity and creativity in those first minutes of waking, when the door between conscious and subconscious awareness and insight is more open than at other times of day. Today was Day 310 total (I miss a few days a month, on average). But it was delayed, so did it count?
I do three high intensity workouts at Ethos every week. It gets harder to motivate to do things at home anymore, and yesterday I felt sheepishly happy to Iog 20 minutes of moderate effort on the elliptical. That counts as exercise, in my opinion. But what if I had only walked to the grocery store and back (which I also did)? What intensity and duration justifies that green dot on my habit tracker?
What counts as meditation, prayer, or ‘low carb’?
Why does it matter?
How many times a day do we encounter one recommendation or another for how many steps we should take, how much protein to eat, what school of meditation is best, what sleep routines to adopt, and how many people we need in our inner circle? If we wanted to follow all of the ‘experts” advice for health, just reading the recommendations and attempting to execute would be a full time job.
Of course I get to decide what counts as Morning Pages or exercise or not, because I am only accountable to myself for the habits and behaviors that uphold my own health. In the end it’s about goals, trade-offs, and results. Why do I do these things? What am I trying to accomplish? What am I willing and not willing to do for the desired outcomes?
What works for me, regardless of what ‘experts’ say and ‘studies show’?
Morning pages make my day better whether I have looked out the window or at my phone beforehand, though the insights may come a bit easier with the former, because I always spend more time on the phone than I intend. But it still usually takes at least a page and a half before novel ideas and epiphanies emerge. Regardless, I feel calmer and centered having journaled at all before the day starts in earnest.
Moving in any way for any amount of time benefits both mind and body, and I can both feel and see consequences of variations in frequency, duration, and intensity over days, weeks, and months. If I move above and beyond activities of daily living and work, then I count it, track it, and review over time to correlate with how I feel.
I see people getting fixated on ‘what counts’. Our culture of metrics, trackers, comparison, and competition foster this tendency toward obsessiveness. It’s too easy today to lose the forest for the trees, and much too easy to forget that the complex global ecosystem of a whole person’s health is synergistic in multiple simultaneous dimensions rather than simple or linear in any way. Whenever we hear anyone say, ‘just do (xxx), and it will fix (some global problem that nobody has yet to solve because there is simply no one right solution),’ we should approach with high skepticism and alert critical thinking.
If it aligns with my commitments and gives me a sense of progress toward my goals, then I say it counts. Tracking helps me see patterns, intersections, and correlates. It makes me more self-aware in real time, holds me accountable, and gives me a little dopamine hit with each green dot logged. Counting can be its own reward.
In the end, however, it’s the being and the doing that matter. So count it or not, I get to choose. The rewards of action and results outweigh those of counting. I think it’s good once in a while to consider more deeply the basic questions like, “What counts?” It keeps me honest.
Healing Through Connection 