Who says?

Okay, quick quiz. Are the following statements facts or opinions?

Something is wrong. It's all my fault. That person is bad. I don't deserve it. It shouldn't be this way. It's going to fail. They should have ______. You have to ____. There was no choice.

Opinions, all of them: judgments, predictions, evaluations, "shoulds."

Distinguishing facts from opinions is an important basic lesson, taught all through school, to help kids make sense of what they read and hear, and sort out truth from assertion.

As far as I know, though, the standard curriculum doesn't ever invite kids to apply that same distinction to their own internal commentaries about life. I think it is a huge missed opportunity.

I'm thinking about this today because of an ongoing fight I've been having with my 2nd grader over homework. He doesn't want to do it, I tell him he has to, and lots of angry drama ensues.

Last night it came to yet another head, and at some point during the evening I realized I just didn't want to fight any more. The whole thing just felt so wrong. I went into another room and just sat with it all, hoping for some clarity about what was actually happening and what to do about it. 

Sitting and breathing, I noticed thoughts popping up left and right, frantically defending my actions, my point of view, and my overall anger, frustration, fear and shame.

He has to get his homework done. I should be able to help him. He should be nice to me, and listen to me. He is lazy.  He is stubborn. He has to learn how to calm down and deal with his anger. If he doesn't figure this out now, it will only get worse. This stinks!

They were all just opinions, but they didn't feel like opinions at the time. They felt like facts. And treating them like facts made me miserable.

What eventually got me out of my funk was that I started pushing back.

"Says who?" I began to ask.

Who says getting his homework done is so important? Who says he's not supposed to get angry about being told what to do? Who says this situation means I'm failing as a parent, or that there's something wrong with him as a child? Who says this situation means anything about any of us?

Faced with a question like that, the opinions lost their grip. They slipped away, and suddenly there was space for some new possibilities:

You teach about emotions, Anne. What would happen if you listened to his anger, the way you guide your students to do, rather than treating it like it's a problem?

You teach about motivation, Anne. What if you started tuning in to what actually makes him happy, the way you invite your students to do, rather than raising another human being whose life is dominated by other people's "should's?"

In hindsight, these are head-smackingly obvious insights: Practice what you preach! Apply what you already know! But I couldn't even look for these solutions when my opinions were shouting their "truth" in my ears.

To be honest, I still don't know exactly what the right thing is to do with homework, but this shift in perspective toward curiosity, openness and humility is huge. And I'm excited to bring more of what I teach out in the world into the walls of my home, where we need it just as much as anyone else.

How does all of this land for you? Can you think of a frustrating person or situation in your life and recognize any opinions masquerading as facts? What other approaches do you use when you find yourself trapped in drama that you no longer want? I'd love to hear.

More simple ways to spread happiness

I love coming across new, creative ideas for spreading the gift of happiness. In the past week, I learned of two more people doing fun and simple things to make strangers happy that I wanted to share with you.

One person is an artist named Bren Bataclan, who was a speaker at TEDx Natick. He got his start in 2003 when he started leaving his paintings around the Boston area with a note saying, "This painting is yours if you promise to smile at random people more often."

Fast forward to 2017, and so far Bren has left over 2000 paintings in all 50 states and over 60 countries, with plans to eventually hit the entire globe and even outer space! He also left several around the building where the TEDx event was held -- one of which is now in my house. :)

The other person on my mind is my dad, who sent me a short email last weekend to tell me about something new he's been trying out while walking at the mall. In his words:

Today I pioneered a new giving format, for mallwalkers!  I had a balloon in my pocket, and blew it up, and was holding it.  Along came a little girl, maybe 3, being pushed in a stroller by her mother.  The little girl's eyes went right to the balloon, and I approached the mother.  "Do you suppose your little girl would like this?" and gave it to the mother.  The little girl lit up like Christmas morning! So I laid in a supply of balloons, with the idea that I might blow up one and hold onto it, in wait for some unsuspecting mother and child!

And an update, a day later:

Today I gave away balloons 2 and 3 to little kids at the mall.  There were 2 young mothers, each with a little girl.  I and a walking buddy approached with a balloon each, and one of the little girls (the bigger one, maybe 3), saw them coming, and started walking toward us!  We gave them to the mothers, and they were OBVIOUSLY thrilled. Later, we saw the same people in the mall, and both kids still had their balloons! So much delight!  So little investment!

Thank you so much to ALL of you, for all the things you to bring joy into the world. My life is better because of you.
 

You can if you want to. And, you don't have to.

I've started taking walks in the morning after dropping off my son at school. Not for exercise, but simply to get present, and to get some fresh air.

This is what came to me this morning, which felt profound to me as a basic mindset for peace and happiness:

If I want to do it, I can. And, I don't have to.

In other words, remember my free will. Just because I have a belief about the importance of something doesn't mean that it's True.

That dreaded phone call I think I have to make today? I don't have to make it. Nor do I have to dread it. But I can if I want to.

The fact that I've got mice back in my house again? I can do something about it if I want to. But I don't have to. And I'm allowed to have any opinions about the situation that I want. Or no opinion at all.

The class I'm teaching tonight? I don't have to come up with detailed plan for it. But I can if I want to. Everyone may or may not show up, and I can choose to worry about that, or not. 

The point is, we human beings and societies make up all sorts of rules about how we're supposed to act, think, and feel that just aren't real. There is absolutely nothing that says we have to follow the rules as we have understood them.

But Anne, these words are dangerous! What if someone reads this post and takes it as permission to commit some kind of atrocity?

To that, I am inclined to say, I am not directing this to them. I am directing it to you, the person reading this now. 

We have absolutely no control over what any other person does. But we have absolute control over how we see the world, and what we choose to do -- including whether we want to spend our time worrying about what other people will and won't do. 

I invite you to consider:

What do you feel like you have to do today, or in your life in general? 

You don't have to do any of those things. But you can, if you want to.

What do you feel like you must not do, now or perhaps ever?

You absolutely could. But you don't have to.

The world will not end, regardless of your actions. We are all pretty insignificant that way. But even in our insignificance, we still have the power of choice.

What do you want to do with this idea? What do you want to do in this moment?

You have full freedom to do whatever you want.

And, you don't have to. 

Advice for finding the ideal partner

Someone looking for a new dating partner asked me recently if I knew any single women who reminded me of me, because he was pretty sure he would like them.

It's a flattering question, but it also gave me pause, because the truth is, this person doesn't actually know me all that well. Sure, he's seen the parts of me that I share through my writing and conversations, but that's an incomplete picture.

Which aspect of me are you looking to replicate? the smart-alec in me wondered. Is it my critical, judgmental nature? My self-centered, over-inflated ego? My impatience with my children? The way I take my spouse for granted?

I doubt those were the qualities he had in mind.

Still, I took his question seriously and have been enjoying thinking about what to say, not just to him, but to anyone who might have an idealized image of a person they want to meet.

My advice is this: First, think about what you really like about the person you imagine. Specifically, how do you picture yourself feeling around them? Would they make you feel alive? Attractive? Valuable? Understood?

Then consider that you don't actually need another person in order to feel that way.

Want to feel alive? Go try new things that stretch you out of your comfort zone.

Want to feel attractive? Practice smiling more, and noticing what you find attractive, both about yourself and others.

Want to feel valuable? Think about what you truly value, and then do something in accordance with those values.

Want to feel understood? Spend some time with a journal, or just talking to yourself. Ask yourself questions you wish someone else would ask you, then listen patiently to what you have to say without judging or condemning yourself.

I guarantee that taking responsibility for your own happiness and well-being will make you more attractive to the kind of person you want to meet.

Not only that, it is also good practice for being in a relationship, where conflict and disappointment are inevitable. Because it turns out that even the most ideal partners end up being quite imperfect.

The confessional of joy

As chair of the "Fellowship Team" at my church, I'm frequently thinking about new things we could do during our post-worship coffee hour to make it a fun and unique experience.

One idea that came up once was to create a confessional of joy.

My understanding of confession in Catholicism is that it's an opportunity to speak the things you're ashamed of, to be forgiven, and to remind yourself of who you want to be. Providing a private confessional is a valuable service, because there aren't very many places that feel safe to speak our darkest truths.

A confessional of joy, by contrast, would be a place for people to share things they're proud of. The successes they had. The times they kept trying. The great ideas they came up with. The ways they've shown kindness, creativity, persistence, and other virtues.

It's appealing to me, because I think all too often we don't have places that feel safe to share what we want to be acknowledged for.

That said, I also don't think we need a private booth to do it. Keeping this sharing anonymous perpetuates the myth that it's not really okay to talk about publicly. And it is.

All it takes is the courage to say something like this: "Can I tell you something that I'm really proud of?" or "Can I tell you something that I felt really good about today?" And then share it.

When people share their joys and successes with me, it makes my day. It doesn't matter how small or seemingly insignificant the moments are; each one is a reminder that there is more good in the world than I realized.

Right now, I'm feeling good about reaching out to my husband after a big argument. I feel good about letting my daughter listen to her choice of music without critical commentary. And I'm feeling great about getting this blog post written well before the end of the day.

What about you? What is something you did recently that you feel good about, that perhaps you haven't yet been acknowledged for? I would love to hear.

Those insidious "shoulds"

Today was a beautiful, warm (for January) day, and late this afternoon I wanted to take a walk. I was feeling kind of anxious and needy, and wanted to find some peace and clarity.

I hadn't seen my daughter all day, though, and thought I should spend time with her. So I invited her to come with me.

The only problem was, she wasn't interested. She wanted to stay home and do her own thing.

If I had been in a more centered state, perhaps there would be no story to tell. I would have gone on my walk, she would have done her thing, and we probably would have connected again at dinnertime. No problem.

But I was not centered. In fact, I was feeling pretty icky, and when she wasn't interested in coming with me, I took it personally. I told her she had to come, and then spent a good chunk of the walk resenting her and chiding her for being grumpy. Not exactly a fun time.

It wasn't until afterwards that I realized what had gone wrong. I had gotten attached to a certain idea of how the afternoon should go, which didn't allow anyone else's needs to be different than my own. When it turned out my daughter's vision was different, we got into a battle of wills.

The kicker of it all? I honestly hadn't wanted her to come with me in the first place. Did you catch that earlier? I thought I should spend time with her because I'd been gone all day, but what I really wanted was just to take a walk and clear my head. 

In other words, I was fighting for something that neither of us wanted, all in order to live up to a made up image of how I was supposed to be.

Are any of your conflicts like that? Or perhaps a better question: Are any of your conflicts not like that?

So much of our human suffering seems to be created not because we want what we want, but because we try to pursue things we think we should want instead.

May we all find ways to get more clarity.

So good you don't have to prove it

I took my kids to the roller skating rink a few weeks ago, and was struck by just how good some of the other skaters were. Even in a jam-packed rink, they could zoom in and out of the crowds without disrupting the flow or getting in anyone's way. They moved with such grace, ease and mastery that it was a joy to watch.

I liked watching my own kids, too, but it was a different experience. They can skate just fine, but are nowhere near masters. My older one was especially eager for attention. "Look at ME, mom!" "Did you notice me skating backwards?" "Time me!" "I am so much faster than HE is." 

It was such a striking juxtaposition: My over-confident learner was eager to prove how great she was, while the really excellent ones simply were great, and had no need to prove anything to anyone.

This distinction between learner and master doesn't just apply to skating, of course, but to any area where we might want to develop our skills.

In the beginning, it's natural to be full of ego. We long to be recognized, encouraged, and validated, because learning new things is hard! That external support can get us through when we might otherwise get discouraged and be tempted to give up.

If we keep going, we have a chance at the real prize: to be good enough at our craft that the external validation no longer matters.

I want to get to that level of mastery with my Gift of Happiness work. I want to be so good at guiding people toward happiness and connection that I no longer feel the need to justify or prove myself. I want to be a person who is no longer trying to love people, but in whose presence people simply know they are loved.

What about you? 

Are there areas of your life where you feel like you are trying to prove yourself, or find yourself eager for validation? What skills are you trying to master? What would it feel like to actually master them? What do you think it would take to get there?

It's all about the Why's

In his popular TED talk, How Great Leaders Inspire Action, Simon Sinek uses his "Golden Circle" diagram to explain human motivation. It basically looks like a target with three concentric circles: The outer layer is "What;" the middle layer is "How;" and the bullseye is "Why."

Most companies (and people), he says, can tell you the facts about what they do and how they do it, but if you want to inspire people to buy your product or support your idea, you have to work from the inside out: You have to start with the Why.

The same principle applies if you want to inspire yourself to do something, whether it's pursuing an important life change, or just tackling a persistent item on your "to do" list.

If you focus primarily on what you have to do, it is rarely appealing. Make a phone call. Update your resume. Fix the roof. Bo-ring! And sometimes anxiety-provoking, too.

No wonder it's so easy to get distracted by things like food and Facebook, where the payoff is obvious and immediate.

Sometimes when I notice that a task has been stuck on my "to do" list for weeks, I will literally write down why I want to do it, as well as why I haven't wanted to do it -- and then make a commitment that I am actually willing to follow through on. 

Just as a small example, something I've been wanting to do but haven't yet done is come up with a new approach to morning and afterschool routines with my 7-year-old, which are currently haphazard and involve a lot of nagging and whining and both of us getting frustrated with each other. 

Some reasons why I haven't done it yet: Because I'm afraid whatever I come up with won't work. Because I'm embarrassed that I didn't attend to it a long time ago. Because part of me simply doesn't want to have to. Up until now, those have been the kinds of Why's running the show.

Some reasons why I do want to do it: Because I hate feeling frustrated and angry around my son. Because I know there are things I could do that would help. Because I want to feel proud of how I am as a parent. Because I want to practice what I preach. Because it would feel so good to look forward to my time with my son. Because it would make his life happier too. Because it will be a learning experience. Because I know I don't have to get it perfect. Because he and I could celebrate together. Because I know a lot of great parents who could help me think about what to do and give me ideas. Because it would help me experience more peace and gratitude....

My commitment: Spend at least 30 minutes this Sunday afternoon thinking specifically about what is and isn't working, how I want our mornings and afternoons to go, and what I want to try doing differently. I'll let you know if I come up with anything good.

The cool thing about Why's is that there is an infinite supply of them, and none of them are wrong. So you can just keep coming up with them until you find ones that really motivate you. (Or, you may discover that you don't actually want to do the thing after all, in which case your commitment can simply be to celebrate taking it off your "to do" list!)

What about you? Do you have an item that's been on your "to do" list for a while? What happens to your motivations when you attend to your Why's? What other techniques do you use to motivate yourself? 
 

Why I have a soft spot for bullies

I recently created a new flyer for the Gift of Happiness, and in doing so realized that almost everything I do can be boiled down into a single guiding principle: How we treat people matters.

It may or may not matter to other people how I treat them, but it matters to me. It's how I teach myself what kind of person I am.

A single formative example: Growing up, I was horribly mean to my sister. I regularly criticized her, belittled her, excluded her, ignored her, made fun of her, and took her for granted. I was a bully, and I paid for it.

I paid for it not just because I missed out on what could have been a close, loving relationship with my only sibling, but because of the damage it did to my sense of self. I learned to believe that, at my core, I was petty, mean, selfish and unlovable.

Meanwhile, my sister developed resilience, and simply learned to ignore me when I was being a jerk. All the criticisms I threw at her came back and stuck to me instead, each one just reinforcing in my mind how bad I was. 

I will tell you from experience that people who think that they are no good have a hard time giving and receiving love, and are pretty lonely because of it.

In schools today there are a lot more conversations about bullying than ever before, but I wish more of them focused on the impact of bullying on the one doing it.

If I had realized how much my childhood meanness hurt me, would I have done it so much?

If I had learned that bullies deserve compassion as much as anyone else, might it have helped me to have more compassion for myself?

If I had known back then how powerful a small act of love could be, not just for the person receiving it, but for me, the giver, would I have tried it more often?

I honestly don't know what difference it would have made. (We humans seem to be very adept at filtering out information that doesn't fit our concept of the world.) But I do know how important it is for me to know all of this now, so I will say it again: How we treat people matters.

Even when those people are bullies.

And even when the bullies are us.

This is not a blog post

If I were writing a blog post today, I'm sure it would have been brilliant and engaging and insightful.

But instead I am taking the evening off to spend time with my daughter and husband, who just came back from out of town.

Perhaps that, in itself, is sufficient.