Archive for ‘Communication’

August 27, 2023

Be careful who you talk to

by Rod Smith

Be careful who you talk to about the deeper things, personal matters, losses, that may be troubling you.

Some people are unsafe.*

Unsafe people are seldom intentionally unsafe or even aware they are.

People are unsafe as a product of their own unaddressed, unresolved, or unidentified traumas.

Your trauma, abandonment, your loss, whatever, ignites theirs. This is what makes them unsafe for things confidential. Your pain expressed rekindles theirs, rendering them less capable, not necessarily incapable, of hearing you.

Yes, it’s that simple.

The unsafe are so — not because they are fraudulent or deceptive— but because their lives feel, or are, unsafe. If you are observant, you’ll see their anxiety, you’ll experience their anxiety — which is probably not what you want at a time you are seeking understanding and perhaps comfort. Uncomfortable people cannot offer comfort. It’s not in them.

A person recently betrayed or abandoned or suffering loss is not better equipped as a result of the experience to listen to you when you face something similar. While said person remains angry or bitter or anxious or overwhelmed with grief they can be of little comfort or assistance to you.

This person will become safe(r) if and when he or she has achieved some objectivity about the experience and is able to see that his or her experience is as unique as yours is.

With “separation” from you and your experience will come greater safety.

It is at these points, points of progressive growth in objectivity, your unsafe person will be transformed into one who can handle your story, one who can identify and empathize without being drawn back into his or her “stuff” as painful as it surely has been.

While your sharing (divulging, unburdening, “downloading”) becomes about them and not you, you are in a less-safe environment.

Safe people listen.

Safe people listen without spilling (their lives into yours or your life into theirs). They are able, and this is crucial, to put themselves aside for the time it takes to listen to you.

Safe people don’t leak or cross-pollinate your information no matter how juicy or tempting it may be or how important it may make them feel to do so. Unsafe people feel rewarded or affirmed by knowing things others don’t know about you — while safe people seek no such affirmation.

Safe people don’t ask you questions simply to lead into what they really want to tell you about their own lives and their pain.

Safe people seldom have to tell you they are safe people. You already know who they are or you become aware of it soon after meeting them. Their non-anxious presence calms you.

Safe people keep it about you.

* I don’t necessarily mean unsafe people are dangerous. Talking with them about your life may not be helpful to you. That’s all.

Evening walk — Prague
August 26, 2023

Brain

by Rod Smith

My mind, my thinking, my brain — all that happens in my head — is quite good, still.

I know because half the time I beat my very bright friend “Obie” (and he was head prefect and dux of his school) in Words With Friends. Currently we are almost tied at 96/97 games. I’m not going to say who is ahead.

Besides beating Obie half the time I also know my thinking is just fine because I can remember stuff. I can plan activities. I can find my way in new-to-me cities after being lost for hours.

These are positive signs. 

I also know when to use the words “fewer” and “less” and I’m occasionally successful in letting it go when others don’t. Every time someone says “have” when “has” is correct, and this does happen even on National Public Radio, I resist yelling “HAS.” I’m proud I possess a degree of restraint as demonstrated with the lackadaisical uses of “less” and “fewer” and “have” and “has” by many (even in influential leadership positions) and so I know I have the capacity to monitor my emotions (most of the time). Obie lives halfway around the world from me so he never sees how upset I get when I have a really good word all lined up to play and then he takes the place I planned to use, and so, rather than getting a bonus of 50 points for using all my letters, Obie wins.

I keep all these pent up emotions to myself which takes some brain willpower and useful skills of avoidance.

I certainly don’t want you to have the impression that my brain zips along and tackles everything with ease and success. 

It doesn’t. 

But, I can efficiently tell you how many South African rand you can get from any amount of US Dollars and if I don’t know I know how to ask SIRI. 

I can tell you all about time zones and difficult things like the metric system.

I can even help you find Togo on a map.

What I struggle with is those new parking meters in Indianapolis where the print is so small on a screen half the size of a credit card and you have to put in your parking space number you forgot to look for when you parked. Even on good days I can’t find my car once I’ve parked it but with those new age parking meters my car is usually only a few spaces away and so after three or four trips back and forth I usually manage to enter the right number and add significantly to my 10,000 steps my phone insists I do every day. 

Tangentially, when I park at the mall or someplace like that and I can’t find my car I lock and unlock the car from a distance with that thing that replaced car keys and follow the beeps. This usually works unless I’m in the wrong level of the parking garage which has also happened. 

I’m really trying to say that my mind is in good shape, not perfect, but I trust it. 

Mostly.

Some days — even for weeks — it can lead me down dark and scary passages and very lonely rabbit holes. 

I can hear or see or read something, or I don’t hear or read or see something, and my brain makes it mean something and that something is most unpleasant, even unbearable and lonely to the max at times.

I read meaning into things and I get so convinced that I’m right and it makes me jumpy.

It’s at these times I don’t care how many times Obie wins.

Then, something happens (even if I drink strong coffee) or I read something or overhear a tidbit and put a few things together — a jigsaw-puzzle-with-thoughts kind of thing — and my head bumps into finding out I was wrong, very wrong, and I spent all that time being anxious in dark and scary places and lonely places for what.

For zilch. 

Yes. I can spell onomatopoeia (without autocorrect) and I have known how for decades. I can beat Obie (half the time) in Words With Friends. I recently even did the parking meter thing successfully in Indianapolis and paid for the right car, mine. 

Then, sometimes that same old brain takes me places, painful places, lonely places, I really don’t want to go.

Jet lag evening stroll – Prague
August 23, 2023

Art

by Rod Smith

If you visit my home in small-town-USA I think you’ll be surprised by my art collection.

A local artist, and prolific one at that, seeing my framed prints – mostly European art – told me politely but pointedly that there is so much original local art that framing and hanging a print of anything is unnecessary.

I took that to heart. 

Overtime, through the wonders of the Internet, I have purchased several pieces of South African art – and in making the purchase have talked with the artists.

I love our large painting of the Berg’s Amphitheater by Peter VanHeereden which hangs in my counseling study. The living room has several Western Cape scenes and one large up close protea. A conversation starter and much loved piece is a painting of a woman with a sleeping baby tied to her back and a basket of fruit balance on her head. Each of these is by Western Cape artist Willem Onker. There are two breaking wave scenes by Pretoria’s Trevor Beach – who only paints waves!

It is all very beautiful and I love it all but our home screams one thing very loudly and very clearly: I miss living and being in South Africa.

Onker (left) and VanHeerden
August 22, 2023

Gratitude’s Reward

by Rod Smith

A grateful heart will lift your spirit, shift your lens from what you think you lack or need, to recognition of all you do have and enjoy.

A grateful heart will lighten your load and offer you helpful objectivity.

A grateful heart will sharpen your vision to see the miracles in the immediate – like the shifts in seasons, the births of neighbors’ babies, the happiness you see in a child when she runs to be embraced by her daddy. 

A grateful heart will alleviate the necessity for sarcasm and cynicism as you find yourself expressing gratitude.

Gratitude will open your eyes to sunsets and sunrises in new ways, to regard each as an opportunity to be thankful for a good day ending and the arrival of fresh starts and new opportunities. 

Gratitude welcomes the noises and interruptions of children, even other people’s children,  and the elderly, even other people’s elderly, rather than considers both an irritation or interruption.

A grateful person is lavish with thank you-s and praise and enjoyment (in ways that are contagious) despite trying circumstances and, oddly, the gratitude has a way of rewarding those who spread it and rewards the grateful with even more for which to be grateful.

Nate’s first day home – May 2002
August 21, 2023

Fear’s Intent

by Rod Smith

“Perfect love casts out fear” reads a phrase from sacred writings. 

As a close friend pointed out, “fear casts out love.”

Indeed. 

But fear is even more pernicious than casting out love (acceptance, inclusion, empathy).

Fear twists. 

Distorts. 

Fear prevents and  perverts.  

Fear hi-jacks thinking. 

It injects toxins, destructive toxins into what may have been a healthy  thinking process. Possessing no limitations or boundaries, fear invades, dominates, floods every nook and cranny of the psyche (in people and groups and sadly, even churches) and leaves no room for reasonableness, compassion, empathy or love. 

It ultimately renders the fearful inhumane.

Jesus oft’ repeated “Do not be afraid,” 

He said it when His followers were at points of potential high-reactivity and much  under stress, duress.

When anxstress. 

Anxstress is a term one of my sons coined when he was about 8 years old and we have used it ever since. 

I do not believe this repeated  Admonition from Jesus was only words of comfort. They were much more. They were words of comfort but also words of correction, encouragement, and protection. They were words of protection from what fear does and does so well. 

 It destroys. 

Fear works from the inside and destroys people and then it destroys friendships and deeper relationships, even long term family relationships, even churches  

“Do not be afraid” were much more than words of comfort.

Jesus was doing His best to keep us humane.

One of my very favorite pieces of art. Secured from a street artist in Moscow.
August 20, 2023

Hopes for the week ahead (and beyond)…..

by Rod Smith

May you meet gentle and warm hearted people and be warm hearted and gentle toward yourself and towards others. There appears to be so much fury and anger and so many people living on edge. May you and I offer a counter experience and offer others a place of welcome and safety. In doing so we may not change the world or make a shift or dent in our immediate environments but we will lift and encourage the hearts of a few.

May you be firm in your decisions and be confident in your dealings with yourself and others. There is a vast difference between confidence and arrogance and, while they are often confused, may you and I have only confidence. Inner-confidence permits others to take a stand, for themselves. Confidence will assist you and me to live deliberately and avoid victim thinking. 

May you be generous and kind in a world that seems to promote selfishness, greed, indifference and even promote unkindness. This does not mean we have to give beyond our means or be un-thinking in our giving of time and resources. Wise giving of cash, talent, and time empowers others. Unwise giving of cash, talent and time will exhaust and deplete you and me.

August 15, 2023

I just want to be happy…..

by Rod Smith

“I just want to be happy.”

I hear it over and over again – usually with a little whine in the tone.

It’s often whimpered as if happiness is some sort of award or a condition that may descend upon a person who is in the right place at the right time.

Truth is, you have more of a chance of being struck by lightning than you have being struck by happiness.

Happiness has no victims. It’s a by-product. It grows out of purposeful living.

Happiness remains out of control – even to the rich and powerful.

You may have noticed its penchant for playing hide and seek with the rich and powerful.

It’s yours when you fight and win the good fight over trying to be happy. It’s yours when you engage purposes greater than yourself, your pleasures, and appetites. The road to happiness is often paved with difficulty, things you may think will never deliver any joy.

It hides from the lazy, the self-indulgent, the entitled, the spoiled, the whiner, but embraces those seeking justice and authenticity and doing what is good and right by others.

Ironically happiness often escapes the rich and makes its home with the poor, the humble.

Oddly, it’s one thing that doesn’t, “follow the money.”

July 31, 2023

Home

by Rod Smith

“I’m home. From work” reads my son Nate’s text. 

A few minutes later, also from Nate (21) comes, “I’ve let Duke out. I am going to Muncie.”

“Why?” I replied.

“Buy clothes,” he writes. 

Seconds later Thulani texts from New York City: “Checking in. Alaina and I are going to dinner. I’ll let you know when I’m home. Talk soon.”

My sons are far from perfect but when it comes to keeping me “in the loop” they both get an A-plus.

I am deeply grateful for this, knowing several parents who seldom (or never) hear from their adult sons and I know a few who seldom hear from their daughters.

I value every text and every call, even the calls that are requests for cash. I try really hard to take every attempted contact as I am steeped in the knowledge of how unusual it is to hear daily from adult sons.

There are times I am traveling and both boys will text me to say he’s home from wherever.

The most “at home” feelings flood me when I know both my sons are safe and home, no matter where in the world I may be.

“I am too,” I’ll reply.

July 30, 2023

What if…..

by Rod Smith

Half my lifetime ago, and it wasn’t easy for me to do the calculations, I moved to the United States.

I was alone; nervous, excited. 

My inner-dialogue repeated Robert Frost’s “Way leads to way” from the middle of “The Road not Taken.”

The closing couplet annoys me only for its misuse and its bumper-sticker common usage. For me the real gold of the poem are the four words “Way leads to way.”  

There are times I wonder how things would have been had I chosen to remain in Durban. What if I had moved to Australia?

New Zealand? 

What if I had gone to England as some of my cousins did?

Knowledge of what might have been is conjecture, often foolish, often the result of blaming others or self-blame or the fruit of grief. No one can know what may have been around a corner not taken, an ignored opportunity on a diverging path, a ‘plane ticket unpurchased, a form ignored or lost, an embassy too difficult to reach or avoided. 

One can know what happened. 

One can know what is happening. 

One can recognize the peculiar, unpredictable, mostly wonderful journey that has unfolded. 

In a score of plan-your-future seminars I could never have predicted or planned how things have transpired, how wheels have turned, how events collided to place my sons and me (would I have had children at all?) in this unusual context. The Midwest of the USA is about as far from home in every imaginable manner, but a context brimming with spectacular experiences and opportunities.

I have on occasions seized the day but wasted many. 

I’ve mourned and I rejoiced, hurt others and been hurt by others. 

I’ve used and been used. 

Shakespeare says King Lear (poor soul) is “a man more sinned against than sinning” but it is not a label I can claim.  

When I have endured the pain of a cut-off from a treasured relationship I have tried for reconciliation as best as I know how. Some attempts have been successful but mostly not. I expect I will take some pain – the emotional pain of loss of treasured friends – to the grave and probably with a convincing brave front. 

My choices have resulted in many beautiful outcomes, and some, not.

Way indeed, leads to way.

Thank you Robert Frost.

July 24, 2023

Vulnerable?

by Rod Smith

A public speaker I once heard said there is no action known to humanity or shortcoming of which he himself is incapable.

 I mulled this thought. 

I resisted his obvious implication. 

There are indeed many things, my thinking was, that some humans have done that I will not do. 

I believed then, as I do now, in my capacity to draw the line. 

But, I am less eager, less assured, some years later, to disagree with the insightful speaker. It has taken time and pain but I have seen myself, and, while there is much to love and enjoy, I don’t always like what I see. 

My capacity to draw the line, to maintain good boundaries, the wisdom to place limits on primal urges, has involved a complex multifaceted and multilayered journey of failures and some successes, and everything with all the in-between ambiguities. 

I know I am as vulnerable as the speaker suggested. Indeed, there remain things I won’t do that other humans have done, but there are times the line is rather faint and I’m as vulnerable as the next person to taking care of myself at the expense of others.