Too much and nothing at all.

When the words spill out.

And they’re all wrong. 

They’re too soon. 

They’re too late. 

When the words are all mixed up. 

And upside down. 

And sideways. 

And backwards. 

When the words get lost. 

And lodged in your throat. 

And bounce around inside your head. 

And burrow in the pit of your stomach. 

When the words are too much. 

Too scratchy. 

Too tumbling. 

Burning and stinging.

When the words aren’t enough. 

And they fall short. 

They are too quiet. 

Too small. 

When there is nothing left to say. 

Before you even start. 

After it’s already too late. 

When there was never any space at all. 

And there was nothing. 

No space to fill up. 

No hope to crawl inside of. 

Always too much. 

And yet, nothing at all. 

Giving Thanks, Taking More

Image credit: Suzanne Kreiter—The Boston Globe/Getty Images

Fun little fact, I was born on Thanksgiving Day. If you follow my blog, you know that I have complicated feelings about holidays and Thanksgiving is no different. Surely, I had a touch of bitterness about some years when a birthday candle was stuck in a pumpkin pie and I didn't get to to choose my own birthday cake or how unfair it seemed that some other kids had summer birthdays and got to celebrate with a pool party. But those childhood disappointments are long gone. As an adult, my disdain for Thanksgiving has to do with the violent origin of the holiday, forced gratitude, and overconsumption. 

By now, I think we are all clear on the true history of Thanksgiving and the violent way European settlers arrived and took over occupied land. (If not, you can read more here: https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/thanksgiving-myth-and-what-we-should-be-teaching-kids-180973655/).  It's really a celebration of white people taking something that wasn't theirs and glossing over it as an accomplishment. It’s actually quite embarrassing now that I have a better understanding of history. Both from a standpoint of falling for the whitewashed version of the story and for how I perpetuated it when I was a younger educator. I don’t think it’s possible we’ll ever end the tradition of celebrating Thanksgiving in the US but the older I get and the more I learn, the more uncomfortable I feel about it. 

A reasonable argument to keep the tradition of Thanksgiving would be to have a focused time of gratitude, some people even use the whole month to center all they are thankful for in life. And I think this is lovely, I really do. But how many times have you been at a family dinner, an office party, or other social gathering, where someone says “why don’t we go around and each say something we are thankful for?” When in the history of forced traditions, has this created a new lens of thankfulness? Of course we are all grateful for our family, and friends, and health, and each other, and so on. The practice doesn’t create gratitude, we’re all saying same damn things and crossing our fingers we say the right cliché response. But even more than this irritating truth, why, out of 365 days in a year, are we choosing just 1 to be grateful? What is happening on the other 364 that we need that kind of moral check up on each other? 

Well, I think that answer is clear in the 37 “Black Friday” emails I’ve gotten this week. And I’m lowballing. We can’t resist the urge to consume, even on a day we are intentionally slowing down to be grateful for what we have. This isn’t a new take on the conflicting notion of Thanksgiving and Black Friday but it certainly can’t be overlooked here. 

Thanksgiving has become a day of pause for me in other ways. To think about history, what I think I understand and focus on where I need to be asking more questions. To consider the traditions in my family and how our values align with our actions throughout the year. Not to be morally superior, simply to lean in and to ask myself big questions that require introspection that might be a little uncomfortable. 

Why do we have a day dedicated to giving thanks, that is truly about taking more? 

For you

 

Image credit: www.passiton.com

In a recent YouTube video by Black Eyed Peas and Jennifer Hudson remaking "The Love", they include powerful messages of what's on the ballot in 3 days: 

Indigenous rights are on the ballot. 

Compassion is on the ballot. 

Ending poverty is on the ballot. 

Science is on the ballot. 

Democracy is on the ballot. 

Justice is on the ballot.

You can watch this powerful video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jk7LPpY8pXM

I've watched this video multiple times as people in my Facebook feed have shared and re-shared it numerous times in the past 2 weeks. Each time I watch it, my eyes fill up with tears, my throat gets a little tight, and my heart aches. Because I see myself in those messages, I see people I love in those messages, and I see my values in those messages. 

I've had a lot of anxiety going into this election. Way more than ever before and I think that's true for many people. When I think about what's at stake, I think about my reproductive rights, my voice as a woman, the safety of our black friends, legal rights for my friends in same-sex marriages, the rights of my trans and non-binary friends, the environment, the pandemic, immigrant rights, our education system, and more. 

It's not just the rights  and safety of individual people and marginalized groups. It's not just science and education and a sustainable future. It's not just figuring out how to survive and rebound from a global pandemic. It's the dignity of our nation, the unity we used to feel in collective freedom and pride, a shared vision for a better future for our children and their children. 

The last 4 years have destroyed our country. We were never perfect. But we have become even more divided and fueled by hate. We fell for the lies and the false promise of success and equality through capitalism. We have let white supremacy, prejudice, and elitism speak louder than science, social justice, and compassion. 

What's on the ballot for me is a future based on love, equity, and a regard for others even if they are different than us. Separation of church and state is on the ballot for me. Trusting science is on the ballot for me. Moving forward is on the ballot for me. Fighting back is on the ballot for me. Not being silenced is on the ballot for me. 

What's on the ballot for you? 

By Your Scars

There’s a classic story about a father teaching his son a lesson about anger and the permanent damage we can do with our words. It’s called “The Fence”. You probably know it but in case you don’t, here it is:

There was boy who had a bad temper, struggling to control his hurtful words and actions. 

His father gave the boy a bag of nails and told him every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into their wood fence. 

The first day, the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next few weeks, 

he discovered that it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence. 

As he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily gradually dwindled down. 

Finally the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all. 

His dad now had him remove one nail for each day that he controlled his temper. 

It took months, one by one, removing a nail for each day but finally all of the nails were gone.  

The father took his son by the hand, led him to the fence and said, "You have done well. But look at the holes in the fence. They fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar, just like this one. You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. 

It won't matter how many time you say "I'm sorry", the wound is still there.

-Anonymous 

 

This story of course has a great lesson about the long term impact we can have when we are reckless with our words and actions. Even if we feel bad, apologize, and are forgiven, some scars will always remain. 

But this story also provides a metaphor with the damaged fence representing a damaged person. And while we should definitely be careful with one another, the scars we bear become who we are. They are our stories and what makes us unique. We don't see each other as polished pieces of wood, each alike and flawless. We fit together with our friends, chosen family, and partners by the way they see and tend to our scars.  The way they make space for our heartaches, hold our pain, and look straight in the eye of our adversity and don't look away. 

I know you have your scars. 

I know the places it hurts. 

I don't wish those parts of you away. 

I know you by your scars. 

Proving it

Photo credit: www.LeanInLiveEngaged.com

I pass this rock on my walk each day. At first glance I saw:  "Black Lives Matter. Silence = Violence".  Yes! So proud to see this in my community. But when I got closer I could see what you likely noticed right away: the red spray paint is not for emphasis, it is actually painting over the word "Black" with "All". And it kinda seems like someone else came back and used red paint to highlight the "C" and "K" to make the original message stand out again. There are a lot of messages here. Let's break it down. 

The initial message of "Black Lives Matter" is important and powerful. It is a constant reminder to walkers, cyclists, and drivers passing by that justice has not yet been served for the many black men and women killed at the hands of the police and also represents the general marginalization of black people. For many, this elicits fury at systemic racism, inequalities, and a lack of sufficient response from our community leaders. 

But someone else came along and had some feelings about Black people getting (appropriate) attention for the issues at hand, stomped their feet, pouted, and despite not being in danger at all at the given time thought, "But what about me?!" They decided they were going to make sure that people heard their stomp and saw their pathetic pout in the form of red spray paint taking over someone else's message. 

But here's all it did: this person with the red spray paint actually PROVED the historical issue with the power imbalance perpetuated by white privilege and white fragility. What could be a better analogy for the history of our country than black people having a message to share and a white person getting their feelings hurt and trying to cover it up. 

So, to the pouty, red spray painter, thank you for your public reminder of why the Black Lives Matter movement is so important. The message is clear. White fragility is strong and bold and continues to attempt to silence the messages of marginalized groups. Your actions prove it. But see how the initial message still holds strong? Black individuals and communities and their allies have had enough. 

I hope this rock stays this way. I hate that someone felt the need to attempt to take over and distract from someone else's message. But supporters of the Black Lives Matter have been screaming that they are tired of being silenced and that silencing is real. This rock is just proving it.  

Things that are true

One of my career highlights is writing a book on conflict with a good friend of mine. We have spent years diving into the research and human behavior involved in conflict. And despite the, what we think are excellent strategies for engaging in and resolving conflict, we still find ourselves in the midst of emotion-fueled confusion with other humans at times. How can we be so good at this yet still stumble our way through it? For starters, we are all human. We are social beings with complex thoughts and feelings and we are all uniquely different which inherently means we will sometimes disagree. 

Last week at work, I found myself in a fairly tense conversation with someone who works in the grounds department responsible for the property my building is on. We both made several attempts to explain our perspective but they simply didn't align. I finally threw my hands up and calmly said, "we are both saying things that are true." I was simply asking for a truce. What you're saying is right. And what I'm saying is right too. We just hadn't yet discovered the overlap of those truths where the mystery of the situation existed. 

My colleagues who overheard the discussion have brought up my peace offering statement multiple times, "We are both saying things that are true." It was such a powerful pause to allow us to see we are not against each other, we simply haven't figured out how to make space for both truths. And I've started to think about where this conundrum exists in other parts of my life or the broader society. 

You can love your country and want better for it. 

You can believe science and still be confused by it. 

You can support our leaders and still be frustrated by their decisions. 

Masks can be uncomfortable and keep people safe and healthy. 

School can be essential but also risky. 

You can be faithful to your religion and let someone else live by theirs.

You can speak your truth and respect the truth of others. 

The remarkable outcome of speaking these truths together, at the same time, and making room for both (or many) is that the emotional intensity of defending your perspective falls away. When there isn’t a risk of not being seen, it’s easier to pause and see the perspectives you were previously overlooking. In any situation there is not just one but many things that are true. 

Just a bonus

Here's me. March 2019, a week before I gave birth to T and July 2020. A full 75 pound difference. 

I feel amazing. And let’s be honest, I look pretty amazing. 

But this isn’t about the way I look. 

What you can’t see is the hypothyroidism, high cholesterol, and pre-diabetes. 

I’ll be 40 next year. I’m just trying to live longer. Looking good on the outside is just a bonus. 

And I won’t lie to you, I’ve put so much time into eating, exercising, researching, accountability. I've quite literally worked my ass off.

I'm most successful using apps, engaging in challenges, checking in with other people on the same healthy path, and probably annoying everyone around me by talking about fitness all the time. 

But honestly, the hard work starts now. Maintaining these habits and the internal health. And remembering why I’m working so hard. It’s not vanity. It’s because I have an amazing husband and two sweet kids who deserve as much time with me as possible. 

Looking good can be a great motivator when we can't see what is happening on the inside of our bodies. But what's happening on the inside is what keeps us alive, looking good is just a bonus.