The Resolution I’m Glad I Didn’t Keep

Not all New Year’s resolutions are meant to be kept. Some years you make a really good one, and you keep it, and all turns out right in the end. I hope that is how 2016 will be for you!

But sometimes, we start down a path we were never meant to be on.

Sermon: God’s Way or No Way | We Your People, Ours the Journey

That’s why it’s important to watch for the signs that you’re not heading the direction you’re meant to. Then, give up that resolution and start another. There are no rules about what day you will resolve to be awesome. In fact, you have 361 more days to dedicate to being your best self.  IMG_3304In late 2014, I had some tough lessons. My bleeding heart is a trusting little pumper, and when faced with unpredictable and upsetting events, I have practically no defenses around it. Where others would stand fierce with resolve and anger, I tend to react with self-doubt and sadness. And it feels awful.

My warrior friends circled me with the protection I wasn’t able to muster myself. I wanted to be like that. I wanted to be like my lawyer friend, who calmly took in all the facts and reacted with clear counsel. I wanted to be like my bad-ass friends, who’s fuck that attitude was a Teflon shield held above me. I wanted to be all logic and toughness. No more Mrs. Nice. It just wasn’t working for me. The pain was too icky.

IMG_2783

So, along came 2015. And this was going to be the year. I was done with trust. Defenses were up. New people were to be regarded with an abundance of caution. Old alliances were under the microscope. I was hyper-vigilant and in full retreat. No way was I going to be blindsided again. I was going to be ready! I actually resolved to be less trusting and for God’s sake stop being so nice all the time. My cynical, logical, what-have-I-been-telling-you-all-along husband rejoiced.

And it felt good, at first. And then it felt awful. Even worse than the awful I was trying to protect myself from. It’s really hard work trying to be someone you’re not, too. It’s exhausting.

IMG_2606Also, I could not stop thinking about a woman profiled on Humans of New York in Sept. 2014. Cathy is the director of the Confident Children out of Conflict (CCC) Center in Juba, “a place where displaced children in South Sudan are given shelter, an education, affection, and a second chance.” This is the quote that would not leave my mind:

Often their trauma is so bad, that when the children first arrive, they can be very hateful toward me. But I feel blessed by the hate. Because I know it’s part of the healing process. And if they need someone to hate so that they can heal, I’m glad it can be me.”

Photo by Brandon Stanton, Humans of New York.

 

In the first few months of my ‘resolution,’ I thought she was on my mind as a warning: don’t be like her. She is going to drown in her own kindness.  But the more I began to question my new resolve to be less trusting and kind, the more her message turned into something I was supposed to learn from, not run from.

Life has been pretty picnic-like so far for me. And maybe that’s why I’m so tenderhearted…because I haven’t had to fight and claw against adversity. I had always thought that was a weakness of mine. But for the first time, I was starting to see that maybe I was supposed to be this way. Things were supposed to turn out for me so that I would have the openness to help other people.

IMG_3398

“If they need someone to hate so that they can heal, I’m glad it can be me.” That is bad-ass and Teflon tough.

So, I switched up my resolution. Spending so much energy trying to be something I’m not, in the hopes of not getting hurt, was depleting me. Just like Stella and her groove, I needed to get my nice back. I started consciously thinking of trust and kindness as strengths, not weaknesses. And, I started to feel a whole lot better.

You can protect yourself and be kind at the same time. Just remember that everyone is fighting their own battles. Maybe you could be the one that reaches out in love and puts a hole in their armor. And if that doesn’t work, walk away. And bring your bad-ass friends with you. You’re gonna need them.

IMG_4540This year, I hope you walk towards the person you were always meant to be. We all have a place, and we’re all needed. The bleeding hearts need the cynics to pull us up from the depths we plunge into. You tough ones need us Pollyannas to remind you that it’s okay to trust sometimes. 

If your resolution isn’t leading you towards what resonates in your core, give it up! I know I’m glad I did.

I’m Thinking of You

 

IMG_1601

My husband never talks about his patients with me. (He’s the poster boy for the HIPAA law.) But when a call from the hospital comes in at night, sometimes I am privy to his side of the conversation. I might hear snippets such as the person’s age, or what tests they need to have done. I’ve learned which key words will lead to me sleeping alone that night (ruptured, perforation) and which will keep him snuggled next to me (elective, antibiotics).

Within thirty seconds of the phone call ending, my husband will be back to sleep. It’s a self-preserving skill he learned in residency.  But for me, it’s not that easy. Now I’m up. And now I’m thinking about this person who I know nothing about, beyond the fact that they are, say, 66-years-old and have a high fever and need an ERCP, whatever that is. Now that I know about them, and I’m awake, I do what I can for them. Which isn’t much, but I hold them in my mind, and I wish them well. I like to envision a little bit of the comfort I’m sending to them actually finding it’s way to the ER, or the ICU, or their room. It’s improbable, but it’s possible. So I go there.

Many, many nights, phone calls or not, I hold my husband’s hands in mine and offer a straight-up prayer. First it’s a thank you for all the times his hands have been safely guided to help in the past, then it’s a prayer for continued guidance and strength in the future. If my husband knew any of this, he’d be doing an eye-roll/gagging noise combination. He’s a man of hard logic and science. We’re quite a pair.

IMG_4424

Sometimes, one is on the receiving end of good thoughts. Two years ago this weekend, Sandy Hook Elementary school in Newtown, CT experienced the unthinkable. The news trickled first into our local consciousness and then onto the national and international stage. And while I struggled with shock and fear and that sickening too close-to-home feeling, something strangely comforting started happening.

First, a phone call from my sister, 3,000 miles and two time zones away. When her first patient of the day asked, “Isn’t it terrible about what happened at that school in CT?” her stomach dropped, and she thought of me. Then a steady stream of friends, from all over the country, from all phases of my life, started checking in.

I heard the news, and I thought of you. Are you okay? Are the kids okay? 

I heard from people I hadn’t been in touch with for years, from close friends, and from Christmas-card-only friends. All wished me well and expressed relief that today, this time, the tragedy was not ours. In the weeks that followed, sadness would wash over me in waves. But the comfort of being thought of and wished well by so many always pulled me to a safe shore.

IMG_4501

We can never know how many people are thinking of us, maybe right now, and wishing us well. It doesn’t take an anniversary for me to think of the Newtown families. A face, a name, or an image will come to mind, and in that moment I’ll wish them love and comfort. Imagine, for every time someone pops into your mind, or you hold someone in prayer, meditation, or good light, someone else could be doing the same for you!

Maybe the husband or wife of the doctor you visited last week is at home, doing chores, and sending you strong, positive vibes. And if you’re reading this, consider yourself pinged with positivity, because at this moment I could very well be thinking of you, and wishing you all good things, including….

best wishes for a happy and healthy holiday season.

 IMG_2262

Deliberate Kindness

IMG_3361

The holidays were different this year; more poignant, less frenzied.  As a mother of elementary school-aged kids living in Connecticut, it was impossible not to feel the wave of sadness emanating from Newtown.  The holiday-cheer-status-quo was elusive,  knowing that just miles away, so many families would never have a “status quo” again.

To help peel myself out of the darkness that seemed to be consuming me, I dug deep into family, and wrapped hugs around me like blankets. I also began to look around for “good news.”  It’s a little game I play with myself in order to keep from taking to my bed and staying there.

I’m sure you’ve heard of the movement news anchor Ann Curry sparked, encouraging people to do 26 acts of kindness to honor those killed at Sandy Hook Elementary. (#26 Acts).  It’s been a joy watching so many people reach out to others, and to see the clever ways people have thought of to be kind to one another.

But performing “random acts of kindness” is not a new concept.  I’ve seen and and lived examples of this principle for years, and have been grateful each time a moment of kindness entered my life, or that I had a chance to be an agent of kindness myself.

So I got to thinking about people who were on this kindness band wagon, in big ways, before the words Sandy Hook Elementary became so heartbreakingly known to us all.

Kelley Faust is the President and “Chief Hope Officer” of Sunshine Hope, an organization that “creates ways for people to find support and friendship, seek refuge from stress, and feel better about their lives and the world around them.” How cool is that?  Here is their mission statement:

Sunshine Hope empowers individuals to live each day to the fullest by helping them build clear minds, healthy bodies and strong spirits. Through our online community, educational and thought-provoking content and inspirational products, we seek to spread hope and add joy to the world, one life at a time.

Kelley has written and published a book called THE SUPERPOWER OF ME. The description on her website says: “This happy, positive little book of possibility reminds children of all ages to believe in the power within themselves, to realize they are strong and resilient, to live, love, and laugh each day.”

Now who wouldn’t want their kid to have a book like that in their library??  Which is why donating a couple of copies of this book to BOOK TRAIN was a no-brainer for me.

Book Train is an organization started by author Lynda Mullaly Hunt, which seeks to “(Help) foster children discover great books, and keep them.”  In a very simple process, you send new books to a social worker, who gets them into the hands of a foster child.  I absolutely love the idea of giving a foster child something lasting that they can keep.

Lynda’s own novel, ONE FOR THE MURPHYS, tells the story of a foster child  who learns how to love and be loved in the home of the Murphy family.  One of the themes of the book is the idea that ordinary people can be heros.

So how about you? I hope to take a cue from Kelley and Lynda this year and look for deliberate and lasting ways to help people.  What will you do to be someone’s hero in 2013?