Tag Archives: Inspiration

Healing Through Connection

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“How did you get to be so kind, generous, compassionate, empathetic, self-aware, thoughtful, and creative?”

I asked this of someone I admire recently, and then considered all the other people I know and admire to whom I’d ask the same thing. Knowing what I know about their lives, here is my story.

We emit and express these qualities from at least two origins:

First, we have felt them from other people. We were open to and received kindness, compassion, empathy, thoughtfulness–love, basically–from fellow humans. It was role modeled to us. Second, we experienced challenges, struggles, and pain that taught us the value and importance of having this love in our lives. As I think more, these experiences–feeling loved and supported in times of crisis and pain–integrate to make us stronger and more resilient, more grounded in ourselves and open to relationship with others. This is the essence of Healing Through Connection.

Consider the folks you know who exude these qualities. I bet you could easily describe them as Strong and Soft, vulnerable and courageous, with a depth, mass, and volume that can hold space and tolerance for a wide and divergent field of ideas and experiences, even and especially conflicting and paradoxical ones. They are the ones we seek when we long to feel this wideness, this grace.

Then I think about how the opposite happens: When in times of existential crisis and pain we feel isolated, unperceiving of love and support. Just thinking about it evokes a deep sadness, an instant recognition of profound loneliness that seeks immediate relief. What is this dynamic? How does it happen that someone faces pain and struggle truly alone and devoid of kindness, empathy, compassion, and grace–of any connection–shown to them? I know it happens, and I am likely guilty of ignoring or simply being oblivious to other’s struggles as I go about my own busy life.

So when I come across someone who exudes the opposite of kindness, empathy, compassion, generosity, openness, and grace, what story do I tell about that? How does my story, told subconsciously and automatically, then affect and even dictate how I show up to that person? How might I modify and optimize my default story to then raise the likelihood that I will interact with this person in a way that connects and heals?

We’re living in tumultuous and fraught times, friends. The stories we tell about one another, the presence or absence of love in our daily encounters, matter more now than ever. Look around you for the role models. See how they move through life with ease and joy, resilience and hope, optimism despite everything. Observe them, query them, emulate them. Feel the rewards of connection with them, and amplify that.

It’s never too late, and no action is ever too little, to Heal Through Connection.

Bit Post: My Pack Is Thrown

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Committed.

All my stuff—my ideas, things I want to share and explore—is in the pack.

Gotta go where I’ve thrown it, on the other side of the river.

The River of Fear. Self-doubt. Disbelief. Naysaying.

Now I must find my way across the river

Myself

Without getting swept away and over the falls.

Brave the rapids. Find my footing or make my raft, get over it.

Pick up the project and keep walking, marching with it on dry land.

However hilly, rocky, slippery, snowy, or uncertain.

Or maybe I have help?

Am I really alone?

😏

Loving Competition

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Orange zest sourdough.
Sven is now 3.5 months old.

Claggy. Stodgy. Squidgy. Prove, not proof.

Daughter and I are learning the language of British baking by binging the wonderful Netflix show. It’s the best reality TV there is, no question.

Every season starts with 12, sometimes 13 amateur bakers from all over the UK, men and women, old and young. Each themed week (cake, biscuit, pastry, bread, and others) they undertake three challenges, one of which is conducted blind, meaning they have no idea what it is until it starts, and the judges rank the identical attempts without knowing who made which. From the beginning, we the audience can relate to the bakers as friends, coworkers, and family, thanks to fun biography videos interspersed throughout the episodes. Daughter and I choose our champions early on.

One person gets eliminated every week for nine weeks, then the final three bake their butts off for the crystal cake stand trophy in week 10. That last contest ends in a great big garden party where friends and family, as well as previously eliminated bakers, gather to celebrate an entire summer of convectionary creations they never dreamed of making before.

Despite constant tension and suspense from time constraints, mixing failures, collapsing structures and the like, there is minimal, if any, drama. No sabotage, no trash talk, no passive aggression, condescension, or ad hominem of any kind. In fact, the bakers *help* one another every single episode. They cheer enthusiastically for each other’s successes. They rush to assist stragglers to present in time. They banter with ease. And there is a lot of hugging.

Make no mistake, they are each in it to win. Their projects span cultures, geography, seasons, and all genres and media of things bakable, and their flavor, texture, and height ambitions drop our jaws every episode. And though the premise of the show is competition and winning, its ethos is grounded solidly in love. The bakers simply love baking. It is their passion. They respect and admire the judges, one another, and the art of their craft. And by the end of the season, they love one another, as evidenced by post-production coda videos of cohort members cavorting, crisscrossing the UK to hang out, cook, travel, and karaoke together.

I binge this show because it lifts my spirits. The humor, the personalities, and the creativity, ohmygod! But much more than any of that, it’s the relationships and connections that mean the most to me. Somehow the show leaders have created a culture wherein it’s okay—expected, even—to show vulnerability, to admit to fear, self-doubt, and struggle. And in so doing, the bakers form a tight tribe of safety and mutual support in the striving. While in competition, there is no conflict. I do my best and you do yours. We each show up to give it our all, and we leave it all on the table, literally. At the end of the weekend we trust that the elimination process is fair. We celebrate those who make it through to next week, and we surround the one saying so long with tears of empathy and gratitude for such a worthy rival, who elevates our own game. Group hug!

I write “we” as if I’m one of them, as if I could dream of joining this loving tribe. I wish! But don’t we all wish for this? Wouldn’t we all benefit and grow from the nudging and pushing of loving competition and rivalry, from showing one another what might be possible if we dream a little bigger, take a little more risk, and show up all and only ourselves? We have nothing to prove to anyone but our best selves, and even though only one can take home the prize, we know that that person truly earned it, and we all became better in the process. No grudges, no bitterness. Only love, growth, and friendship.

I wonder if the Olympics are like this? Higher, faster, stronger! Elite athletes. Star bakers. Regular folks.

Who pushes you by pushing themselves, leading you by this example? How do you do this for others? In the end our most important competition is the one against our former selves. We play the infinite game of growth and self-improvement alongside one another, each with our own goal posts. We ourselves may be great. But without each other, we won’t ever get far.