It’s doing what’s good and right to the best of your awareness, as limited as your awareness may be, for the greatest number of people possible in your immediate circle of influence, including those whom you don’t know and even those who may have rejected you or may even hate you.
It’s gathering your strength and harvesting your latent patience and shopping at your store of inner kindness when others test you your many daily contexts, and then being strong and patient and kind even if it feels like you’re surrounded by people who don’t appear to think very much, and, if they do, their thinking appears limited to considering only what pertains to themselves alone.
It’s paying for someone’s groceries or petrol (gas) or electricity, but it’s also stopping to consider why it is that you are able to and trying to understand what circumstances have placed the recipients of your generosity in such vulnerable, often humiliating situations, that they need your help and thinking these things through without resorting to low-hanging stereotypes like “I’ve worked hard and ‘they’ have not.”
It’s seeing people’s faces, acknowledging their unique stories, accepting that all people want to be seen, heard and included, even if their day-to-day behavior suggests volumes of evidence to the contrary.
Everyone, it appears to me, is looking for someone or for something, some experience to re-live, something to either re-do, or undo, some event in the past, a journey to shed some shame or re-light the limelight.
I see it in my travels, during brief interactions I’ll enjoy with strangers when they may allow themselves unplanned moments to be distracted and untethered from cell phones.
“Retracing my steps,” said a young man at a table in a coffee shop – neither of us in our home countries – when he had no option but to chat. His phone had “died” and he needed the power outlet behind my seat. “Visiting the places I went with my dad before he died.”
My empathy immediately rose: one so young already searching.
“We are going back to the UK to show my son where his grandfather was born,” said a woman a few seats from me on a largely empty plane.
I held back on suggesting the journey was really hers given the child was at least 4-years-old and it was surely not his suggestion that brought them to this brief encounter.
Leadership will always be strongest, most effective when the leader sees and regards herself or himself as a servant to those in her or his care.
This is not for effect or for greater impact, it is simply how authentic leadership works.
If you are the leader then you will be a servant who seeks to serve those whom she or he leads. You will do so with all your heart, mind, soul and you will love those in your care. You will love them to such a degree that they will end up even unknowingly tapping into the very best of who they are because that’s how people behave when they are loved.
If you think of yourself as elevated, deserving of being served by others, afforded status by your role, you are not a leader no matter what you think you are. What you are is one who is capitalizing on those whom you are really called to serve.
Your leadership function must benefit others, not you.
When you are the true leader there is nothing you will not do within the bounds of law and the boundaries of sound ethics to enhance the lives of those whom you lead.
What kind of week will you have? What kind of person will you be this week? Ask these questions and most will say they don’t know or reveal a Que Sera, Sera (Whatever Will Be, Will Be) attitude.
It is possible to plan.
Here’s my five-point plan for this week:
I will do something every day that is an act of self-care and self-love. It is impossible to love others without also loving myself.
I will occupy the driver’s seat of my life. Abdication of this adult role to others – except under extreme circumstances – is the definition of selfishness.
Within the framework of my predetermined values and boundaries and my callings, I will be a highly cooperative person, a team-player, an encourager.
I will listen without waiting to speak knowing that every person has a voice worth hearing and something to teach me.
I will commit at least one specific act of unexpected generosity, one that costs me time and/or treasure, each day. This is to train my seeing, thinking and responding to others so that generosity becomes an ingrained way of life for me.
I’d love to see what you are planning for your week. Email me your 5 or 3 or 7 point plan.
[—- To all the powerful and wonderful women in our lives. For me they are: my sister, nieces, my sons’ girlfriends, friends, and colleagues in so many places around the world and the Women who made me a dad —]
Enriched is the woman who does not lose herself in her marriage, to motherhood, to taking care of her family, but is able to develop a strong sense of herself and hold onto herself, even while being a loving wife, mother and friend.
Enriched is the woman who does not tolerate tolerate poor manners — or being taken for granted, being sworn at, being victimized verbally and physically — from anyone: not husband, children, in-laws, siblings, parents, but who appropriately, and sufficiently values herself so that she does not accommodate those who do not treat her very well.
Enriched is the woman who is fully aware that she never has to participate in sexual activity that she herself does not want, who knows that her body is her own and private temple which she shares, even in marriage, only when it is by her own sacred and deliberate and joyful and joyful choice.
Enriched is the woman who lives above manipulation, domination and intimidation, and passive-aggressive behaviors, whose relationships are pure and open, and within which she maintains a strong and valued voice.
Enriched are men who know such women, women who show up, speak up, and, as most women do, make things even more beautiful than they already are, see beauty all around and encourage all whom they know and love.
I have thought a lot about how family members are linked – connected: nourished, or drained? – and checked out exactly how it has been for me in the past 24 hours I have talked to my sister (Cape Town, South Africa), to my brother (Christchurch, New Zealand), to my older son (in New York, USA) and to my younger son who lives with me in Indiana, USA.
When my sons call or text and want to talk or tell me something I experience an immediate and involuntary sense of urgency. Duty or protection mode kicks in. Part of me – a small part – wants to drop everything to hear from them. It is a physiological reaction and I feel it. Almost instantly thinking takes over and delivers context and reason and I relax. “Just checking in, Dad,” from New York, and, “Can you pickup curry for dinner,” called from downstairs nourishes me through the invisible connections my sons and I enjoy.
When my brother and sister phone I am always nourished and encouraged. There is no “alert” within. I like to think it is the same for my siblings when I reach out to them.
I wrote yesterday about how we are connected with people in our immediate, extended, and family of choice. These connections, at best, nourish and inspire us. At worst, they drain us and drive us crazy.
The challenge remains for each of us to take responsibility for how we connect (relate, respond, initiate) in order to have relationships that nourish both others and ourselves.
I referred to “over-connected” people. This is when people are fused, joined at the hip (even though there may be oceans between), where day-to-day operation is so entwined it seems impossible to discern where one person ends and the other begins. Any urge for space will be interpreted as rejection. A kind, gentle, assertion toward appropriate separation will do both parties good. This kind of dependence can be of a financial nature.
“Under-connected” people distance themselves to the point of indifference where neither person is nourished and both can be “starved” through lack of contact. This can be the result of some unresolved matter hidden under some forgotten carpet. A gentle approach and request for appropriate connection may result in rewards for both.
“Cut-offs” (I’ll never talk to that person again) can unsettle both parties, often awarding the “victim” the power over he or she who severed the relationship. Mutual humility may be the only hope.
Your family – blood-, marriage, relatives-by-choice, adoption, and any other means people become family – is vastly more than a list of people on your group-chat or birthdays to try and remember or the ready-made crowd for weddings and funerals.
The hundreds of links (a family of 4 has 16 relationships) in your network – your family – and how you are linked (just right, over-connected, under-connected, loosely-affiliated, cut-off in anger, the “I’ll never talk to him/her-again” kind of connection) is of crucial importance.
How you are connected will either sustain and support and nourish you or drain and exhaust you. And, there is no escaping. Severe disconnections can wield a driving power even in a so-called non-relationship.
We are all “linked” and positioned in a variety of ways within the same extended family and so a family can nourish and support while, at the same time, it can rip to shreds and bleed someone dry.
I’d like to avoid this dramatic contrast but simply look around — listen to people’s family stories — you’ll see it is so.
We are each integral to the health (and un-health) of our family.
We are each a cell-within-the-whole.
The healthier we are, the more “just right” our connections, the more we will be nourishers and be nourished within the unique group of people we each call family.
The healthier I am will lead to a healthier “we” even if it results in hardship* along the way.
* attempts at greater health will be met with resistance from those around, especially those who’ve “benefited” from unhealthy habits and patterns.
There is a difference between peacekeeping and peacemaking.
In a troubled emotional environment peacekeeping saps energy and can be a never-ending task.
Peacemaking lays groundwork for authentic peace to prevail.
Peacekeepers work hard to keep the tensions from rising and work at pretending that nothing is amiss.
Peacekeepers avoid conflict. Their reward is the semblance of tranquility, the demise of integrity and escalation of anxiety.
Peacemakers invite necessary conflict knowing there is no other pathway toward understanding between warring people and groups.
Peacekeepers can endure fake “peace” leading to feelings of being called or anointed while they tiptoe through minefields they pretend don’t exist.
Peacekeepers apparently “enjoy” feelings of martyrdom. How else would they rationalize the accompanying stress of trying to hide or tame the proverbial elephant in the room?
Peacekeepers often see their role as “spiritual” and “humble” because they endure without “saying anything.”
Peacemakers value authentic peace more than its distorted parody. The peace that exists between people who possess the courage to endure conflict, for the sake of lasting peace, is like pure gold when compared with its counterfeit cousin.
Move with courage toward lasting peace.
Assume your legitimate role as a peacemaker rather than avoid conflict in order to keep a semblance of peace that is not worth having.
Focusing on strength and in the hope of wild serendipity, I often encourage my beloved therapy clients (and sometimes family members) to break long-established habits and reach for the unusual, the unpredictable.
“What can you plan to take yourself and your family and friends by pleasant and even shocking surprise?” I may ask.
One client, living in Eastern Europe, took a few weeks to unveil his plan.
He took me by delightful surprise and declared he’d planned a solo train journey.
“Prague to London?” I questioned, thinking this would an adventure.
“Jakarta,” he said, “Prague to Indonesia, it will take a few months in trains and a short ferry ride right at the end.”
I suggested my Australian brother break his own rules, be a little edgy, take us by surprise.
Within 24 hours he announced he’d already fulfilled the challenge.
“What?” I enquired, “what unexpected and wild thing have you done in response to my challenge.
He confided: “I woke early this morning and, and walked to the bakery in UN-IRONED shorts.”
May you and I, somewhere between those extremes, break our established patterns, engage in something edgy, exciting. May our actions refresh us and inspire those around us to find their own version of taking themselves and others by surprise.
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