Tag Archives: holiday season

Compassion

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  First, thanks all of guys for your good words on the news that Murray’s now “traveling” as they say in Jamaica.  What kind of self-esteem must that boy have had.  Everyone who met him loved him.

I’ve been thinking some about that.  Murray wasn’t the brightest or most playful.  He wasn’t the first to meet me at the door.  So what was it?  Murray was kind.    Always kind.  He let anyone who wanted a pat or even a squeeze to take their turn.  If someone in my office cried or even shouted, he’d hop up (back when he could hear) and move over close to them.  He forgave all human emotions without pushing himself on you.

I’ve been thinking about the Holidays and all the anxious pleasing we do in our “togetherness.”   What if we could be the gift of providing for others a “non-anxious” presence?

Notice the word “presence.”  We do not provide the gift of “non-anxious” caring when we are not fully in the presence of others. 

What does a non-anxious presence look like?

A man sits down with a friend and     asks what he thinks about the football rankings.  We women like to make fun of this scene.  But what we have is one man saying to another.  “Hi. I’m ‘in here’ for you.  Are you ‘in there’ for me?”

Your spouse (a friend, family member, co-worker) comes in complaining.  You ask them TWO questions about what’s bothering them.  You resist giving your opionion of what she should do or what you are just “so sure” you would do in her shoes. 

Oh, and to be with yourself with passion, compassion, dump your scales (no one needs that kind of detail) and if you find yourself in one of those hotels with three-way mirrors in the bathroom, well closing your eyes, is not only your option, it’s the thoughtful choice.  The way your clothes fit is the only guide you need.

At the gym, the slip of a girl at the front desk is always inviting members up for a free body fat percentage study.  What is she nuts? 

Anxiety and Where It Comes From

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Yes.     The first time I attended a writers’ conference, I didn’t enter a single meeting room.  I just slinked (word?) past open doors and caught a word or two, pretending to be “just passing through.”  I also had a crying fit every night during the first six months of graduate school.     I was sure that somehow the admittance committee which had allowed a moron, me, to slip through the cracks, would one day realize their error and send me back to my extensive fast food career.    

Are you sure you want to read suggestions from someone who’d admit to such weaknesses?  There’s still Dr. L on the radio    who’s perfect and never would have made the mistakes you and I have.

Nah. 

 

And here come the holidays, marching forward like giant challenges to our maturity. 

Come along, we’ll laugh some, we will survive.

 

Anxiety comes not from the FACTS, but from our “WHAT IF’S.”   Mostly–

    WHAT IF I COME OFF LIKE AN IDIOT? 

   

Speed Kills!

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Or on the importance of being “cool.”  To what degree are the life forces in our bodies altered in dangerous ways as we INTERPRET and RESPOND to physical surroundings which may or may not call for anxiety?

JUST BECAUSE YOU FEEL AFRAID, DOES NOT MEAN YOU ARE IN DANGER.

As I approach the long line of people waiting to go through security at the Dallas-Ft. Worth Airport, I feel a familiar rise in blood pressure, a tightness in my arms, my neck stiffens.  So much to do, get out laptop, take off shoes, don’t forget lipstick, where’s my phone?, my keys?  In front of me are others with these questions whirling.  Once through the first guard, it’s time to choose a line for the machines.  Which one is shorter?  Which one is moving faster?  Which one has the family with small children?  Which one has the inevitable infrequent travelers who haven’t read the rules?

I take my best guess and go to the one on the far righ, prepared to do battle.  And prepared to demonstrate my sophistication with my accurate and speedy shot through the machines. 

AND THEN

The old method of scrabbling for gray trays for collecting shoes, laptop, toiltries, coats, etc, had been replaced with a system.  When I stepped up to the end of the line, a gray tray slowly raised up on a conveyor belt.  I quickly dumped in my laptop and set it on the table.  But . . . the next gray tub took several seconds to pop up for use.  I HAD TO WAIT.

Then my shoes.  And, I HAD TO WAIT.

The conveyor belt moved SLOWLY and METHODICALLY through the x-ray and out.  I had plenty of time to remove each item and dress before the next tray appeared.  

I’m sure the process didn’t take a minute more.  People were friendly, and relaxed.  We (at least I) had turned a fairly simple process into a blood pressure raising, complaining event that I dreaded.  When it didn’t have to be.

We don’t have to make the sun come up.  We can work with nature and not against it, especially when it comes to our living body. 

What about your Thanksgiving preparation?  Has it become anything like my usual approach to security?  What really matters beyond our being together (going through security or passing the dressing)?