“There are two sides to every story” is a common belief.
I am of the opinion that things are usually more layered. It is probably more like 7 or 9 sides to every story.
Motivation – the “inside story” – is similar.
What drives me – or holds me back, demands I succeed, or prefers I don’t – is usually more than one or two identifiable factors. People have mixed, often confusing motivations. Hidden, often unknown internal compelling swells drive people to surf historic and aspirational waves.
Getting to the bottom of motive can be like any journey, beautiful, pleasing, satisfying, sometimes uncomfortably revealing.
Time spent with a wildly successful person who donates to great causes and is appropriately honored for doing so led him to inform that very few people know how angry he really is at extended family who unashamedly live off him.
“I have to,” he said, “I have to support them. My wife knows it makes me angry. Everything is for my (deceased) parents.”
Motives are cloaked, mixed bags, driving from deep within, often yielding incredibly beautiful results.
I am not referring to the fist size organ in your chest but to the enigmatic “place” within, the interlocking core of soul, spirit, mind, will, memory, aspirations, longings, regrets. The place where grief grieved, ignored, or overridden, lives. I refer to that complex “engine” within you and me that motivates and drives us.
Or doesn’t.
It speaks, declares who we are, what we are made of, reveals itself hundreds and more times a day.
We leave heartprints, handprints, footprints and cannot help but to do so.
It comes with the power of our humanity.
What’s going on deep inside you and me is revealed in our words, affirmations or tongue lashings, blessing or bullying, and everything in between. Our hearts speak through the works of our hands and through the multiple tracks we leave as we move about the world.
The angry, disappointed, abandoned, betrayed heart, will, if not guarded, lash out, take the pain out on others, usually those most loved or even those nearest, even strangers. Ever wondered why people yell at total strangers like the check out assistant in the supermarket? Pain, anger, will go somewhere.
The peaceful, resolved, mature heart – nothing to do with age – the healed, understanding heart, the open heart, even unguarded, will spread peace, goodness, kindness and be quite unable but to do otherwise with loved ones and strangers.
I have had the privilege of visiting South Africa many times since my January 1990 move to the USA. I have gone most to KwaZulu Natal, where I have family, and, in more recent years, to the Western Cape.
I drive a lot.
It is as if I am looking for something, searching for an item left behind, that I am sure, with enough exploring, I will ultimately find.
Alas, I do know it takes more than renting a car and hours on familiar and unfamiliar roads to journey into the heart of my search.
I have never questioned my move and nor did I ever believe Lady Liberty’s grass was greener.
On rare occasions I listen to South Africans who have made the move and some recurring observations make me smile.
Others, not.
“I miss ‘my’ maid, she was part of the family,” regretting having to pump your own petrol, wash your own clothes, manage your own kitchen are observations that drive me crazy.
Moments of absolute fulfillment, perhaps marking the end of my search, flood me on encountering the sheer goodness, love, acceptance in the nation of my birth, coming from a people who could legitimately regard me with contempt.
Let the people whom you love know it. This means directly telling them in as many creative ways as you are able to devise, but especially, if possible, with words and words that are said out loud and face-to-face. Leave glaring evidence of your love so there is no mistaking it even if it has already been your habit for years.
Cards, letters, cash – let it flow.
Wherever you live, enjoy it, no, more than that, celebrate it. Be aware that wherever you live, there are people – perhaps billions of people – spread across the world who think the grass is greener exactly where you live. They aspire to be where you already are. Make things more beautiful than they already are by adding your joy to the beauty.
Water your proverbial greener grass with joy.
You, yes you, have the power to make someone’s day. I know you do because if it is true for me then it is also true for you. We all possess the power of expressing thanks, of noticing talent and acknowledging it, of recognizing beauty and love and owning up to how it has enriched our lives. The fabulous thing about going out of your way to make someone’s day is that it will inevitably make yours, too.
The kickbacks are terrific.
———— United brought me home — not a single guitar was ruined on the journey……! (Obscure joke indeed…… if you get it let me know). Next stop, Bujumbura…..
Considering others, delivering acts of kindness, will likely be of much benefit to people on the receiving end.
But, as a direct result of acts of consideration and kindness, possibilities for more such acts will kick into gear.
How could I use my power, as limited as it may be, to open opportunities for people?
I’m in no particular hurry and so I can move to the end of the line, or at least suggest those who are rushed for time go ahead of me.
I have more than I ever need or use so I will find creative ways to share and spread the favor that’s been mine.
This kind of thinking is good for our minds, hearts, wills, souls, spirits, as elusive as these “places” are that work together within us and define and shape who we are.
Looking for ways to consider others puts our selfishness and entitlement (at least temporarily) on hold while such thinking engages self awareness and service.
It’s healthy thinking.
It’s win-win thinking that even while we are thinking the thinking it realigns our attitudes and restores hope.
Considering others broadens, sharpens personal vision, does its part in renewing the mind. This can only have positive results, except for committed cynics, of whom, sadly, there are many.
The question is answered if I embrace the wealthy and look down on people of limited means.
If I am ignored by a waiter in a restaurant and threaten to withhold a tip or “go to the top” I have decided who I want to be.
If snubbed and I retaliate, my actions answer the question.
If I return evil for evil I have decided.
I am constantly revealing who I want to be.
Who I am is the product of thousands-upon-thousands of choices, and more, compounding, forming into habits that build platforms for actions and shape the lenses through which I see and respond to the world.
I will always be who I have always been when I am unthinking, reactive, and act out of entrenched stereotypes.
Until I am available for something different, acknowledge there may exist new and more gracious ways for me to be, I will be who I have always been.
The question, “what kind of person do I want to be?”, demands I take responsibility for myself and my behavior. It’s not the waiter, the line at the bank, the government, a dysfunctional family or unhappy childhood, or whomever a person may choose to blame.
This most helpful and life-changing question is answered in my every-day routines, my attitudes, and interactions.
Despite having spent exactly half of my life in the USA and being very much an American (whatever that means) it’s fun being here. My enjoyment is accentuated by the mammoth trip to get here. I had to skip Togo after Ghana and come to South Africa a week early but that’s fodder for another column.
But, here I am, almost surrounded by mountains, in South Africa’s Western Cape, and, as comfortable as I am in the land of my birth there are things I refuse to do:
I refuse to obey the parking attendants (known here as car-guards) who routinely direct me to parking spaces reserved for the elderly.
I will not eat pizza with a knife and fork.
It’s cute, quite endearing, to see grown men (rugby types) pinning already-sliced pizza with a fork to a china-plate and cutting it with a knife then daintily placing the loaded little square of pizza (you won’t believe the topping options – pineapple, banana, biltong (beef-jerky), bacon, avocado, peppadews!) into their mouths WITH A FORK.
“Pick it up. Use your hands,” I want to yell, “It’s PIZZA!”
I do love driving in the land of my birth.
Driving on the left, seated on the right, shifting gears with my left hand in a manual-car-dominated-market, comes naturally to me. But, I will not mount sidewalks to get ahead in the traffic. I draw the line at playing chicken or dare with taxis refusing me access or attempting to eject my rented Suzuki Swift by edging closer and closer until my dashboard lights are flashing and Swifty (we South Africans often give cars nicknames) rattles and shakes with surrounding taxi music. I catch the harrassing taxi driver’s eyes and they are smiling broadly and he waves to welcome me into the game of real-life bumper cars.
I think it quite safe to generalize that when you, yes you, visit African countries (there are 54 of them) you will find incredible friendliness. You will be met with warm hospitality, and meet people who will be very interested in who you are and in what brings you to their part of the world. It is likely they will have an awareness of your part of the world that astounds you.
United States citizens who enter and exit our great nation on occasion will surely be surprised at how friendly and welcoming the immigration and customs and security officials are in other countries. I am yet to hear, anywhere in the world, the yelling at passengers at security and experience the brusqueness and suspicion that routinely meets travelers entering the USA. I’ve been reconditioned to expect friendly exchanges: the South African official welcoming me in Zulu and witnessing his delight at hearing my feeble attempts at a response in Zulu. Another immigration officer, a man of advanced age, stamping my passport to exit South Africa for Washington DC, expressed playfully to a roving colleague, again in Zulu, “why doesn’t the old man stay home” only to be taken aback with laughter when I thanked him using a most respectful Zulu title reserved for older men than I am!
Entering Ghana late last month caps all of my immigration experiences.
Before seeing my passport the official told me I looked very tired and looked like I needed a massage. When I asked if such services were available in her immigration booth she dead-panned “not from me, but from her” pointing to her booth mate checking in passengers from an adjacent line.
Both women roared with laughter, “Welcome to Ghana,” she said.
May your heart be jam-packed with great expectations and sufficiently resilient to embrace those unfamiliar with indiscriminate human warmth.
Love is tough for those for whom it is foreign.
May you experience the goodness of which you are capable and possess the courage to allow its full way with you.
Take yourself by surprise.
May you have childlike eyes and be filled with joy and wonder as you see the familiar in new and childlike ways.
May your curiosity be contagious.
May your thoughts dwell on the goodness around you and your focus on designing your fulfilling and adventurous future.
May your enthusiasm impart strength to others.
May your words be soft, sweet, encouraging, while you remain unafraid to speak your mind with conviction.
May your words comfort and provoke all who hear you.
May your hands bring comfort, kindness, relief to those, who, for reasons of historic political atrocities or recent political divides, may least expect it from you.
May your love continually and persistently obliterate stereotypes and prejudices.
May your most treasured friendships deepen, your broken friendships find healing, and all malice, contempt and indifference from you, and for you, cease.
May you embrace and love your friends, former friends, enemies and detractors.
Captured with permission – a t-shirt in Curitiba, Brazil
Definitions vary, but people usually want to be emotionally healthy, or moving in that direction.
How about some tangible goals displaying emotional wellness?
The emotionally well person is a self-starter who is inner-driven and internally-steered. She uses pre-established principles and boundaries to make decisions and is not usually externally steered by family, friends or fads.
The healthy person is no blind follower and nor is he “flying by the seat of his pants.” Even at his most spontaneous, he is living his pre-established principles and goals.
She loves her family but acts as a separate person when necessary and, when necessary, she is able to make unpopular decisions.
He sometimes chooses to spend time alone, time to think, plan, read, write and pray.
He is quick to forgive almost everything but learns to modify or manage trust. He understands that forgiving doesn’t necessarily mean forgetting although there are times and circumstances when it does.
Emotionally well people are able to “hold onto themselves” under pressure and do not lash out or blame others when things go awry.
Emotionally well people are comfortable with their status in life and thus able to impart calmness and comfort to those who appear to be on a constant treadmill in pursuit of wealth, success, or recognition.
“Living from within” can appear as arrogance to those who are tossed and turned by trends and fashions.
In a world of chaos and discord may you and I be part of the solution and not part of the problem. May we not fuel fruitless discussions but rather attempt to be agents of calm and sound reason.
In a world of selfishness and greed may you and I find it in ourselves to be self-aware and generous. May we assist when possible and necessary but may our help be carefully considered so that it is authentic, helpful and empowering help.
In a world of indifference and frequent contempt may you and I be engaged with others and accepting of others. May we learn the art of seeing, validating, and hearing people and loving those whom we may have formerly regarded with indifference had we noticed them at all.
In a world where many people are demanding and entitled, may you and I learn when to give way, to accommodate, to compromise, to yield, and when to stand firm. May we learn the art of repeated healthy responses to unhealthy expectations.
In a world of sarcasm, hurt and rejection may you and I represent hope. May we be people of healing and listening and grace. May you and I learn how to be safe people in an unsafe world.
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