A walkabout to kindness and the meaning of home

If they say that home is where the heart is then I guess I am heading home. I have never lived in Madison but it is where my folks have called home for 30 years. As I approach the airport terminal, I look forward to getting a much needed weekend of rest after a tough year. I also hope to do some dissecting of something that I have been struggling with recently.

But first, a little history. My mom and dad are probably the kindest, and some of the most generous people I know. They always have been. They made up for what little money they had by establishing strong friendships, lending a helping hand to someone in need, providing their time to causes of all kinds. And of course, they did this without the need to be in the spotlight. So it's not a surprise that one of the pillars I grew up with is that kindness matters. I learned that considering other people, having a good heart, and acting in kindness without looking for accolades is what you do.

Recently at work, I had an embarrassing moment of "foot in mouth disease". I said something to a co-worker and she totally teased me about it. I saw the words come out of my mouth and float over to her in all their glory. She got me good and I am sure my face got beat red. We laughed about it. Then she said "Oh I shouldn't do that to you Rick. You're just too kind". Its not the first time I have heard things like that. I have been told by people that I am kind person. It's a value that I hold close to my heart. It's become a pillar in my life as well.

Question #1 - What does being kind mean though?

About a year ago I woke up and realized that I needed more kindness in my life. I started to reach out and connect with people who I thought were kind. When I had the chance, I would be honest and open with them without being too overwhelming. I shared pieces of my story and made sure I listened to them as well. And an amazing thing happened. I started to be the recipient of wonderful and kind experiences. Someone would send me an encouraging email after seeing me in passing and noticing a look on my face.  Another would say exactly the right thing at the right time. A friend sent me pocket charm that continues to lighten my mood. A co-worker would give me a sincere compliment. I noticed a pattern developing. Each time one of these things happened, I would choke up. Each time I would even think about one these things happening I would choke up. To the point where I started to tell people, "you can't be nice to me today" for fear I would start crying in front of them, (and you know, at work, that isn't a good thing).

Question #2 - Why do I cry when people do or say kind things to me?

Melody Beattie, in her book "Co-Dependent No More"  states that "acts of kindness are not kind unless we feel good about ourselves, what we are doing, and the person we are doing it for".  I read this in Wisconsin after wrestling with the whole kindness/crying cycle I have been experiencing. This is a profound statement for me. It bounces around my head as I swim laps at the local YMCA. I realize that for me, my acts of kindness were for reasons other than what she states. I've acted out of kindness to please other people. To look like the "good son" I thought my parents wanted me to be. "The good guy/brother" I thought my friends/sisters wanted me to be. I wanted to be seen as kind and helpful so that I could feel worthy of the relationship I had with this person.

"...acts of kindness are not kind unless we feel good about ourselves.."  

Question #3 - What does this really mean? 

My flight out of Madison is cancelled and I end up staying longer than expected.  Good thing is that I have parents and a sister who open their homes to me. I settle into this place I've identified as my home. But is it? Sure it's the closest place I have to going "home".  But there is part of my heart that is still in Denver. My kids are there. My friends are there. My daily life is there. I try to reconcile this. I decide that home can be in two places. But that doesn't feel right either.

Question #4 - Why am I wrestling with this idea of finding home and what kindness means to me?

Where is home?  What makes a home?  Is it a place?  People? Familiar objects? Let's go a little deeper, is home where you know you are unconditionally loved? And what does that does that mean anyway?  

My therapist has taught me this healing exercise. Very simple, maybe some of you know it, but it's new to me. Whenever I am struggling with a feeling, I focus and place the feeling on my body, see what color associates with it, and identify a younger version of myself who is struggling with the same feeling. I then sit down with myself in a safe place and tell the younger me what he needs to hear. Sounds like a silly process but I have been able to come to terms with quite a number of unresolved feelings doing this. I have found peace.

On the last morning in Wisconsin I try this exercise. I don't connect. There is a block. So I do what runners do and head out to run. With each foot plant I struggle with the idea of what home means, what kindness means to me.  As I reach the end I stop a few houses away and start to walk.  I start to envision all of the other versions of myself that I have imagined talking to over the past few months. I recall how I have talked to each of these versions of me and said kind, encouraging things. As I walk up to my sister's garage, all of these version of myself gather around me. And I hear them saying that they love me. I start to cry because I realize that I have the answer I have been looking for all week.

My home resides in my own heart. When I love myself unconditionally and am comfortable with who I am, I will have found my home. The idea "home is where the heart is" makes all kinds of sense to me now. I don't have to go anywhere to be home. I am home here. With myself. And knowing this, I now know that when I act out in kindness, I will do it because I feel good about myself. And I will be able to receive acts of kindness from others because of who I am.

Final Answer - I am worthy to receive and give kindness in the world because I am at home with myself.

I'd like to close with the opening to Mary Oliver's "Wild Geese"

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

My walkabout through this wild and crazy life continues.

Patience

When I was little, I heard my mom say "You have so much patience you should work with people". "I love how you had so much patience with your younger sister". My track coach in HS would say "You know you have the speed and patience, remember to wait for your moment to make your move". When I first started working with people who have intellectual and development disabilities, people would say "Wow, you must have a lot of patience". My boss recently told me that she has seen me have "so much patience when people pop into your office asking for help. You make them feel like you were waiting for them or something".

BS. I've had a high level of anxiety lately.  It started a few weeks ago when I first noticed the knots in my stomach. It's really reached a high level lately and I have tried to figure it out but to no avail. I take my pain on a hike to the top of what I call my spirit mountain. On the way to the top I start to realize that I am living in the future. I fantasize so hard about how my life will be different, what I want to be doing, where I will be, and who I will be. I know that I don't want to be where I am now and I want the answers to these questions. And I want them NOW dammit! But I don't know how to get there. Life keeps dragging me back. Half way up the mountain, I realize that it's patience I am struggling with and I cry.  One of those large tear, cathartic cries you've heard about. Not the first time for me this week but now I begin to understand.

There are so many things written out there that talk about how we don't have much control over what happens to us in life and that we only have control over how we respond.  Logically I can understand that and have put effort into applying that to my life. Lately they are just words to me. I do an internet search on "quotes on patience" to hopefully connect with something that would put a salve on my aching self. I came up with some good quotes. Here are a few I found:

• "Patience is bitter but it's fruit is sweet" Aristotle
• "Patience is not the ability to wait but the ability to keep a good attitude while waiting" Joyce Meyer 
• "The hardest test in life is having the patience to wait for the right moment"  
• "Have patience. Everything is difficult before it's easy". Saadi
• "The ability to accept. delay, suffering, or annoyance without complaining or becoming angry"  http://dictionary.cambridge.org/

Great quotes but not really helping me in the moment. How do I do patience when my mind is pouring anxiety out of my ears? When I find myself wanting to take the butterflies that are in my gut and fly away with them into the future. I want to meet whatever my future holds!  

So I turn to TED. Maybe someone on TED.com has something to say to guide me. It's worked before where I've listened to a talk and I have an "Ah-Hah" moment. This time TED delivered me Andy Puddicombe's talk on "doing nothing for 10 minutes". Practicing this, he says, will help me gain focus, calm, and clarity in my life. He speaks about how by doing nothing for 10 minutes daily can change how I experience and respond to life as it happens. It's simple. So I try. 

I am not new to meditation and it's benefits. If Andy said "meditate for 10 minutes" I wouldn't have put much stock into it. Mediation is hard for me. Sitting in an uncomfortable position, focus on breathing, etc.  But practicing "doing nothing for 10 minutes" struck a chord.  I have tried it now for a few days and find that my mind is more relaxed. I realize that if I allow my mind to live where I want my journey to end up, then I am more likely to react abruptly or harshly, and those actions may actually set me back. Sitting and doing nothing just a few times over the past few days has helped me understand that I need to be firmly planted in the now so that I can experience and learn what I need to. Difficulty seems to be dominating my life lately, but I do know that there are good things occurring too and it's all a part of the current journey.  Responding to the here and now instead of wishing I could rush through it will allow me to respond in ways that will unfold the journey the way it's meant to unfold. Dreaming about what I want for the future is okay. But I can't afford to rush the journey to get there. Reacting to what is happening in the moment  in a focused, calm way is what makes those dreams come true.

I understand those quotes now. I understand how to "do patience" when I am really impatient and it's the last thing I want to do. I will continue to sit and do nothing, every now and then. That is my task at hand. That is my journey.

Capes

Yesterday I read a blog post from someone I recently met where she talks about having to borrow a pair of shoes from her boss. (You need to read it at the link above to find out why). While wearing these shoes, she explains  "I thought about the shoes giving me magical powers like a super hero. Suddenly, I’m...leading an organization with diplomacy, wisdom and kindness". She states she felt like "a leader with a cape."




I flashed as I read that. I saw this young boy who's picture I found in an HR business journal of all places. Probably an article on leading with authenticity. He's wearing a bright red cape and is standing like he has all the confidence in the world. This picture has been taped to my filing cabinet right next to my desk for 6 or 7 years. To be honest though, I haven't actually seen him lately. Over time he has blended into the background of my cluttered office. He was supposed to remind me of the confidence and freedom that often times goes along with being 5 years old. Kids this age are naturally curious, and interact in the world with no filters. They are engaged and let their personalities shine.

I was that 5 year old once. That was before I began to create stories about myself. Stories full of doubt, about who I should be or need to be.  Stories about what I should do or need to do. All to please others. Left unchecked, these kind of stories have a way of burying capes.

Guy Clark sings a song titled "The Cape". The chorus is..

Well, he's one of those who knows that life is just a leap of faith
Spread your arms and hold your breath and always trust your cape

I haven't seen my cape in a while. It's just buried somewhere. Nor have I been in touch with that little boy. There have been no leaps. My recent life journeys have caused me to create so many complex and limiting stories about myself. I have felt as though blending into the background of my hectic life would be the best thing to do.

The Universe has an interesting way of speaking to me though. Yesterday  I read the post above about shoes and then I had the vision of this boy and his cape. This morning I woke up with this Guy Clark song stuck in my head. With these three messages I realize now that I am ready to rediscover my cape. I am reminded that the stories I create about myself are only in my mind and are only true if I choose to believe them. Its up to me to spread my wings and take that leap of faith. If a borrowed pair of shoes can help my new friend identify with and own parts of her personality that were probably there already, then my imaginary cape can do this for me too.

I want to be known as this guy:

Now, he's old and gray with a flour sack cape tied all around his head 

And he's still jumpin' off the garage and will be till he's dead 

All these years the people said, he was actin' like a kid 

He did not know he could not fly and so he did

It's time to don that cape.  It's time to take a leap of faith and allow myself to fly. I own this.

roses

Welcome to my blog. Never thought I would be doing this, however since I am currently facing some extreme changes, and challenges in my life, I think it's time to try new things. I have never done any writing except school papers and basic emails at work. I am titling this blog "Where am I now" because this journey I am on has been and will be, no doubt, confusing. My thought is that writing about my journey in a mindful way will help me sort things out. Blogging about it here will provide me with a way to get feedback from you in  ways that will challenge me to keep going. I am open. I want to learn.

If you have watched the short clip and read up to here, you've got the basic idea. I film my feet as I walk somewhere, and then pan up to show something about where I am. Then I write about what I was reflecting on as I walked in that spot. Maybe it sounds corny writing about where I am physically and figuratively, but I did some searching and couldn't find anyone else blogging in quite the same way. I do some of my best thinking when I  walk. I have been known as a guy who doesn't share much. So here I am, building on what I know how to do and exploring an area where I want to improve.

A week or so ago I found myself at City Park in Denver taking a walk as my daughter spent some time at the museum with a friend. I was in my usual funk of late due to my life circumstances. Those of you  who know me know that I am going through a divorce, and it will be finalized before the new year. Divorce is tough terrain. Navigating through this with the person I thought would be my life partner is heart wrenching. Putting a stamp of completion on a marriage of 22 years is terribly painful. And then I think about how it will affect our kids. But this isn't a blog to complain about divorce. Or to complain about the wonderful mother my kids are fortunate to have. It's about how I am doing with it all, what I can embrace now and what I can let go. And it's about how I can use my experience to grow.

So back to City Park. It was November 7th. In Denver. I had jeans and a t-shirt on. And I came across this rose in a small rose garden. I actually did smell it first. It drew me out of my self imposed fugue state of self pity and pain and filled me with a few moments of beauty. What a blessing. And I knew in that moment that I was going to be okay as long as I, (okay this is a cliché) stopped and smelled the roses. Life can carry me away at times, but in that moment, I was as grounded and good as I could be.

This journey is necessarily difficult and the pain is sometimes unbearable. I am fortunate to have each of you to remind me though that there are roses around. I just need to be open. I will be okay as will my family.  Each of you is a rose to me. Blessings to you.