The desire for AUTONOMY is a powerful instinct within you. It is the craving to be self-directed and separate. It is the “you” who wants to be free of all ties, all responsibilities. It is the “you” that fears absorption; the “you” who wants to let your hair blow in the wind, feel the sun on your back and live a carefree life. This is the lone-ranger and pioneer spirit within you. This desire is a necessary part of your survival and growth – don’t reject it. 

The desire for INTIMACY is a powerful instinct within you. It is the craving to be close and connected. It is the “you” that wants to belong, be known and be part of a family, a team. It is the “you” that fears abandonment and desertion; the you who longs for a unified journey with others, the you that wakes up at night and wonders with horror, what it would be like to be totally alone. This is the nest-making part of you, the part who longs for a shared life. This desire is a necessary part of your survival and growth – don’t reject it. 

Healthy adults acknowledge these desires in themselves, and then in others – and never feed the one at the ruin of the other. This is wisdom!

Being Left Out

Finding out your child has NOT been invited to an event that all the other children are attending can be very painful. Do you say something? Do you fight it? Do you let your child know? I’d suggest you talk about this before it occurs or as soon as possible if it does: 

• Acknowledge the hurt. Very few things are as painful for a child as finding out about a birthday party that’s already occurred among friends. The pain is real, appropriate, and expected no matter how logical the explanation or innocent the oversight. 

• Failure to include your child may have nothing to do with your child (or you). But, examine yourselves. Is there anything your child is doing, or you are doing, that makes it easier for others NOT to include your child? At least face the possibility others may consider you or your child difficult. 

• Suggest your child address the omission as politely and kindly as possible with the friend. Of course age is critical here – but a stronger backbone will result! 

• Encourage your child to understand the difference between hurt and damage. He or she may be hurt, but it is unlikely the experience has the power to impart damage.

• Encourage and engage in zero payback or retribution. 

You may earn more than I do and live in a nicer house – but our loneliness is probably the same. When it rips us apart it doesn’t really matter who has the most cash or the nicest home. Loneliness doesn’t care where we live or about our financial status. Invite me in – perhaps we can be friends and ease our common pain.

You may be more educated than I am and you may have graduated from a respected university – but I know that if you regard anyone, anywhere with contempt, your education has given you little worth knowing. I may not be very bright by your standards but I do know that truly educated people resist its use as a weapon. Talk to me – I might be able to teach you a thing or two.

You may be more travelled than I am and can talk about places I have not heard of or could afford to visit in my wildest dreams – but if travel has made you contemptuous of your homeland and its peoples then travel has not done its finer work in you. Citizens of the world find beauty and wonder everywhere. Come to my house – my culture is as interesting as any you will find on any distant shore.

“There are two potential tragedies in life and dying isn’t one of them,” wrote Ronald Rolheiser, the Catholic theologian. “What’s tragic is to go through life without loving and without expressing love and affection toward those whom we do love.”

What great thoughts to ponder and then motivate us to action beyond romance on Valentine’s Day.

Let’s not fall victim to either of the tragedies — not today, tomorrow, not forever.

One of the great things about life for most of us is that we get more than a few chances at most things, even things we fouled up in the past. Failing at love yesterday doesn’t mean we have to fail again.

While the holiday is Hallmark-driven and its history buried in 5th century Rome, it’s up to us to push love to the limits, to go beyond Valentine, beyond Hallmark, beyond Cupid, beyond Eros, red balloons and red sweaters and candy. It’s up to us to take Rolheiser’s caution to heart.

Let’s express love in tangible ways to all those whom we love.

Loving is more than breakfast in bed. Say what you want to say without leaving it to another day. Don’t wait, don’t avoid it, and don’t run from it. Act upon the love you feel in measurable ways, express it in ways that are new and unique for you.

Love your family by encouraging the expression of the unique voice of every person. Enlarge their freedom, oust all jealousy.

Listen, and wait to speak. Try to hear even the things you’d rather not hear. Learn things about members of your family even if it has been so long that it is hard to remember a time when you did not share life.

Loving people celebrate strength, encourage freedom and admire the talent of others.

Then, in loving and being loved, compromise yourself, your talents and skills for no one.

True love will never steal your voice, your brain, your heart or your body.

Minimizing who you are in the name of love will not make you more lovable or make your family a happier or healthier place. It is never worth it. It is never loving. It is those with dark motives, who seek for you to be less, minimized, diminished or silenced. Reject such small-mindedness, such evil, even if doing so is very costly.

In your loving, deal a deadly blow to love’s bitter enemies of resentment, anger and bitterness. These close cousins, if permitted, will hold hands within your psychology and dance a woeful dance. They will make you blind to all things beautiful. Angry, bitter and resentful people, no matter what their justification, become increasingly unreasonable and difficult to live with.

Bitterness will have a soul for breakfast. It’ll chew you up, spit you out, and then get you some more. That’s its nature. It has no regard for you, except in your destruction.

Make the most powerful decision a person can make and forgive everyone, everything. Forgiving others completely for everything real or imagined done against you, will give you a degree of personal liberation heretofore unknown. Such forgiveness, offered from and within our human frailty, releases the spirit beyond comprehension.

When people forgive each other, they wear divine clothing, and the prison doors of their own hearts become unlocked and the miserable trio of anger, bitterness and resentment are set free to do their work elsewhere.

“There are two potential tragedies in life,” wrote Rolheiser, and today we each decide the extent of their power in each of our lives. Happy Valentine’s Day.

The Mercury – Thursday

The Power of Encouragement

“Sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never harm me,” says the well-known little song, despite its vast inaccuracies.

Bones heal. Bones, I believe, can become stronger as a result of healing.

Harsh words, hard, misspoken comments, put-downs, slams, insults, double-edged “compliments” can stay with a recipient forever. They can be replayed, chorus-like, all through a person’s life. I have known people to be inflicted with fresh pain years after a toxic volley has been delivered.

Of course this is so!

I bet you can recall word-for-word what some misguided teacher yelled at you when you were knee high to a grasshopper. You might not still carry the pain, but some do. I’ve met them.

Responsible, accurate, sincere affirmations can inspire a child, guide an adolescent, motivate a young adult, and be a scaffold of continued success throughout a life-time for some people.

Mr. Richard Morey of Northlands Boys’ High School (now Northwood) did this for me.

On day and when I was about 14, he took a minute portion of an essay I had written, circled it, and said, in his dry manner, “Here, do more of this.”

I treasured that red circle, that moment of encouragement, for a very long time and, well, built much of my career on it.

“Ezra. My name is Ezra. I’m 18,” said a young man. 

“You have a whole book of the Bible with your name,” I said introducing myself. 

“I know,” he says, “my grandmother says that all the time.” 

The boy is chatty. 

“My dad made me play sports. He always checked my homework.”

“Sounds like you and your dad are close.”

“He’s dead. Murdered. A year ago. It’s ok. I am used to it. I cried once about it – on the day, but never again. No one talks about him.”

“Ezra, it is not ok,” I said, “listen to yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“You tell me about your dad and sports and then that your dad was murdered — as if you’re talking about the weather. Ezra, it is not ok. You may be ‘used’ to your dad being dead but it is not ok. You have suffered great loss. I’m really really sorry this has happened to you and your family.”

“It’s ok. You know so far I have been offered scholarships to about 5 universities. I am not sure which one to choose. I wish my dad was here to help.”