You said it, George. 

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November Gratitude Shorts, Day 4

Give thanks for George Takei.  What a role model.  I imagine myself living his life–imprisoned and humiliated with my family at a young age because of my race.  Growing up denying my sexuality, for fear of losing my job and even violence if I’m found out.  Could I come through it all with the forgiveness and generosity of this man?  I’m not so sure.  How could I not instead express bitterness, resentment, and entitlement?  I imagine that he experienced these emotions and more, and it seems he had role models who redirected his energy along the way.  Thank you, George, for sharing your journey with all of us, and leading with light and love.

From his Facebook page yesterday:

When I was just a boy, I asked my father how it was that this nation, founded on principles of equality and freedom, could have turned on its own citizens and put us into camps. He told me something I’ll never forget. “Ours is a people’s democracy. It can be as great as the people in it, or as fallible.” My father taught me the importance of participating in our democracy, so that we learn from our past mistakes and always strive to achieve the promise of equality for all.
Many today seek to divide us, blaming the helpless and saying America will lose to the forces of fear and oppression. As a child, I grew up behind barbed wire fences of U.S. internment camps because of my race. Seventy years later, I stand with my white, gay spouse to assure you: We will win.
We will win the battle against bigotry and injustice. I lived through the years of Jim Crow and race lynchings, then marched for Civil Rights to help bring an end to them. Today, we note only in passing that our President is African American, and that the top contenders for his office are a woman Secretary of State and a Black neurosurgeon. We will win.

We will win the battle against inequality and hate. For decades, I kept secret my own sexuality, out of fear I would lose my acting career. Then I watched as LGBTs rose up during Stonewall, and the gay liberation movement claimed its place in a common struggle for civil rights. Through the terrible era of AIDS, we survived; today, there is marriage equality across this land. We will win.

We will win the battle against ignorance and fear. In my early years, America joined with other freedom-loving nations to defeat murderous, totalitarian dictators on two continents. Together, we can, we must, and we will defeat fundamental threats to our world, whether from religious extremism, regional conflict or climate change. We will win.

We will win when we come together as a nation, rather than divide along our perceived differences. We will win when we hold true to our core values and embrace our diversity, rather than scapegoat some. We will win when we engage, learn, and remain open to new ideas and innovations. I am 78 years old, and I am still learning and progressing at each opportunity I can.

On this Election Day, we take happily for granted what was so hard fought, and what so much of the world is yet denied. I urge you also to participate in this great democracy through your votes, your dialogue, and your love of this society. My family lost everything when this nation lost its way, but that has never stopped me from believing in America’s potential or from fighting for its principles. Together, we will win.

— George Takei

On the Kindness of Strangers

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November Gratitude Shorts, Day 3

Today I give thanks for the kindness of strangers.

As I approached the entrance to a building this morning, a young man held the door for me. I walked a good fifteen feet behind him, so I was surprised that he even saw me.  And it was one of those almost awkward moments when he stood there several seconds holding the door—he actually stopped on his way somewhere to be kind to me, a stranger.  I noticed what he was doing and felt happy and warm inside.  Then I panicked just a little—there were 4 shallow steps leading to the door—do I take them two at a time, or shuffle quickly up each one?  What if I trip and fall on the way up, then it’ll be even more awkward, he’ll probably feel obligated to come back out and help me up, maybe regretting that he stopped in the first place…I chose the shuffle option, made it to the door unscathed.  We exchanged smiles, “Thank you,” and “No problem.”  It was just so pleasant!

I love moments like this because they remind me how we are all connected, and how everything we do affects others, no matter how small. I first saw a Travelers Insurance commercial illustrating this in the 1990s. Recently Liberty Mutual (link to the YouTube video) made something similar.  One person shows kindness to a second, a stranger.  This act is witnessed by a third stranger, who later shows kindness to a fourth, which is witnessed by a fifth, etc.  The idea goes one step beyond ‘pay it forward,’ where the person who received the kindness shows kindness to another.  I think we can assume that.  But likely more than one other person witnesses each of these acts, and if they are all inspired to act more kindly toward the next stranger they meet, how brilliant!

Exponential spread of kindness, one small act at a time. Yes.

Convergence

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Day 2, November Gratitude Not-So-Short

I commit to November Gratitude Shorts to practice daily writing and thanksgiving. Thank you for stopping by!

Today I give thanks for Convergence Experiences.

Last week I started listening to Brené Brown’s new book, Rising Strong.  If you have not already read or listened, I highly recommend it.  Early in the book she describes a conflict with her husband in which she openly acknowledges the story she tells herself about the origins of his behavior toward her.  Turns out it’s completely wrong, and the point is that by owning her own story, she invites him to tell his, and they can then communicate in love and the pursuit of mutual understanding.  I felt proud that this practice of recognizing and owning the stories I tell myself about others was one of the first things I learned in coaching years ago.  Then, days ago, my friend Donna Cameron published her post “Oh, The Stories We Tell!” on her blog, A Year of Living Kindly.  Bam, validated again!

Later in the book, Brown talks about why so many people fear ‘reckoning and rumbling’ with our feelings and emotional experiences. Feelings, especially negative ones, can be overwhelmingly uncomfortable, and thus intolerable.  So rather than engage with them, we repress or ‘offload’ them—bury them or project them onto others, often those closest to us.  I think she makes an analogy to going down a rabbit hole, and I know exactly how that feels.  I have spent the last two years spelunking in my deep emotional life (aka the Sh*tpile), and it scared the sh*t out of me at first.  And, it gets easier the more I do it.  Another endorsement, thank you, Dr. Brown!

Still later, she tells another story of her own experience reconciling other people’s wretched behavior. “Are people really doing their best all the time?” she asks.  Before hearing this I had just commented on another blog that we are all here doing our best, and if we could only see one another this way, even if only part of the time, things would be a lot better.  In her research, Brown has learned that those who choose to assume we are all doing our best tend to be the ones who, in her view, ‘live wholeheartedly.’  They exhibit more self- and thus other-acceptance, they sit more comfortably with vulnerability, and they judge themselves and others more gently than those who think we definitely do not try our best all the time.

Now I’m starting to feel a bit smug, thinking something like, “I got this. I’m a wholehearted, reckoning and rumbling, uber-intelligent emotional Rock Star.”  –Or at least a star student.  And I’m reminded of when I read her last book, Daring Greatly.  I got through the whole thing feeling and thinking something similar.  I have since learned that understanding a concept in one’s mind, such as that vulnerability is not weakness, and that in order to truly reach our potential we must be willing to risk failure and embarrassment, does not mean that one lives that understanding in a real emotional life.  True integration comes, like mindfulness, through continuous seeking, struggle, and a whole lot of grace.

At this point, I can both acknowledge the emotional progress I have made, and also check my pride. There will always be lessons to learn and practice, and I know that whenever I start to think, “I got this,” I need to look in my blind spots, because something is bound to show up there, sooner or later.

Convergence Experiences validate, encourage, and inspire me. They reassure me that I am on the right path, toward greater understanding, empathy, compassion and love, not just for others, but for myself.  They also remind me that only the journey matters; there is no destination other than how I choose to live today.  That’s a lot to be thankful for.