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Relationships might be easier if we had better signage.  Or if we were better at reading signs.

Sometimes I need to put a sign on the door of my heart, “Posted—NO Trespassing—Keep Out.” There are times when the heart needs solitude—space—silence; when the desire to keep one’s own counsel is appreciated and honored.

But, there are other times that I want to put the “Welcome” mat out. These are times when the heart sets up chairs and is ready for a visitor or two; people who will come in and share the tender joys and the aching pain of life with me. The flashing neon “Open” sign is plugged in.

And there are other times when the heart feels desperate—when it opens the windows and in black, bold hand lettering cries, “Help—Please!! Come In—I Need You!” These are times when the heart’s desire for solitude has grown into a desperate loneliness; when fear and despair occupy the chairs I set out for company.

There are many other signs.  They express a range of the heart’s desires. And we either fail to put them up and keep people guessing about what we need, or others around us fail to have their eyes checked so they can read them.  Either way, much of the stress of relationships is related to this problem with signage. 

And maybe we would have less trouble with stumbling into each other if we learned the many non-verbal signs that people use to tell us what their heart is feeling. Or maybe we could learn to say where we are instead of blaming others for not reading well. Or, maybe we could discover grace, offered when others miss the cues and commit to better signage in the future. 

LOVIE

My four year old nephew has a handful of comfort. It is a remnant of soft fabric that he salvaged from a larger blanket that has worn itself out being dragged around.  He calls it his “lovie.”

We all have had “lovies”. Mine was an old rag doll that was received so much love and gave so much comfort that it wore itself out. Other children have a stuffed animal or a pillow. These are things that children get attached to that gives them a sense of comfort. They are the sought after thing when the child is distressed or upset.

Some people think that we out-grow our “lovies".  They think that it is important that a child give up their talisman that connects them to childhood. They worry that dependence on something like that will stunt the emotional growth of the child.

But when we were in Athens a few years ago, I saw old men sitting around the plaza, talking and threading their worry beads between their fingers. In Cuba I saw women sitting, fingering their rosaries. In high school hallways I see young people cupping in their hands a mobil device, their thumbs tapping away at the screen. “Lovies”!!

And I still have “lovies”.  My hot cup of coffee in the morning resting in my lap as I ease into the day; the smell of garlic and onions sizzling in the skillet; the touch of Deb’s fingers running through my hair; the shot of bourbon and taste of olives and cheese as we ease out of the tensions of the day and settle into the calm of the evening; the familiar pillow as I lay down to rest my mind with sleep.

We all need “lovies” to help us know we are going to be OK.  Or at least, we need these moments when we can rest in the reality of what and who we are.

BIG HEADACHE

Is it possible to make someone who is unhappy happy? Do you feel like it is your responsibility to make the people around you happy?

I recently read that new studies (not sure who did the study) which shows that when someone is feeling down about something, it only makes things worse to try to cheer them up by trying to point out that they  might look at the situation differently. The study suggested that trying to give people the positive spin on what they feel is negative only makes them feel worse.

The study also posits that people who are feeling down have to discover their own joy and that sometimes it helps simply to agree with them that “the situation sucks”. I am not sure but maybe the empathy frees them up to discover their own view of possible positive dimensions to their situation.

I think author Irene Beckerman’s grandmother said it best when she told her granddaughter, "If you have to stand on your head to make somebody happy, all you can expect is a big headache.”

This insight might be a new and inexpensive remedy to one of the most common pains that humans experience.

HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL

A quote on a torn piece of newspaper laying on the kitchen counter: “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

This is a truth that highly educated people sometimes forget. There are times when I think the more degrees we have, the less we understand what makes humans tick.  I was trained from birth to think things through.  Formal education was highly valued in my family.  All of the children in my family of origin continued in educational institutions until we had more than one college degree. We were taught to keep up with the world and to care about what we were learning.

So, I have a lot of education.  And I often forget that formal education may prepare me to think logically and use my knowledge to convince others of what I know but it doesn’t do much to sensitize me to how my approach to the information may make the other person feel.

And the fact is, most of us are more or less open to the information that we share depending on how we feel in the presence of each other.  If I make another person feel small or undervalued by the way I share the information I have, they are not likely to be open to what I have to say.

So, I want to be in relationship to people in a way that we feel connected and valued by each other. I want to notice whether others are leaning into our conversation or pulling back from it. I want to share the way I understand the world and have the other person share their insights. I want to feel valued and want the other to feel valued as well. When that happens we have a mutually enriching connection where each will feel they have gained from being in conversation.

RELIEF AND APPRECIATION

Photo by BK Farish

We all have dark days—and nights. Sometimes they last a day or two, other time the months slog by and it seems as if morning never comes. The black clothes in which we dress our bodies reflect the dark attire of our hearts.

In one of those times for me, I received lots of helpful directions. Some of them were appreciated, some of them were not. Some of the comments turned out to be true even when they rolled too easily off the tongues of those who shared them. 

One such comment was: “This too shall pass.” When I would despair of the density of the dark, I would comfort myself with those words. Even when it was hard, they reminded me that this feeling isn’t for always. I could hold on to the hope that dawn would someday come. I could feel some relief.

But, I have found that I am using that phase when the sun shines too. “This too shall pass.” I remind myself that the experience of beauty and grace that accompanies so many days of my life will not be here forever either. The gift of friendship is but a blip in time. The love of my wife is for the time we have. The ability to hear the strains of the symphony will fade with age. Seeing the face of my grandchild as she matures won’t last forever.

And when I say it with the wind whipping through my hair and the voice of Billy Joel blasting from my car radio, my heart breaks open in appreciation. I can’t hold on to it, but I can bow to it as it passes through my life. Grace comes in glimpses so i let it flood my soul. Because, “this too shall pass.”