Turning toward kindness and decency

Mid-week last week, I sent out a bonus email asking for donations to send Signs of Kindness to support the Be Kind for B random acts of kindness campaign.

Fifteen of you quickly pitched in, and as a result, there are now 40 yard signs on their way to Cheyenne, Wyoming.

This marks the completion of the 50-state goal that I've been working toward for over a year, just in time for the Election Day deadline that I set for myself.

It is remarkably satisfying.

People have purchased signs for their homes and businesses.
They've purchased signs for their friends and family members.
And they have pitched in to pay for signs for people they've never met, in communities that they will probably never visit.

This is the kind of country I want to live in.

Not one riddled with plastic yard signs, necessarily, but one in which we easily express our kindness and goodwill toward one another. Even toward people who may not share our values, beliefs, or politics.

This election week, I am heartened by how strong the collective longing is for kindness and decency, and how many people are doing things to help it along.

In case your news feeds are curated differently than mine, here are a few examples I can point to.

Braver Angels is an organization I've mentioned a few times now, and I'm sure will continue to promote. On election night, starting at 7:00 EST, they will be offering a series of religious and secular 15-minute gatherings to "offer grounding and help hold America together." Then on Wednesday night they'll be holding a post-election day discussion to reflect on what just happened and consider how to move forward.

Vote Kindness is a movement sponsored by Wisdom 2.0 whose mission is to "support universal human values such as truthfulness, respect, and kindness in our society and our leadership." Their Facebook group has recently been the source of some of my favorite articles and videos, and they are offering a series of Election Day events to set intentions, extend lovingkindness, and connect as a community.

This conversation between Rep. Dean Phillips (D-MN) and Rep. Anthony Gonzalez (R-OH) of the Problem-Solvers Caucus was the most inspiring thing I've heard from national politics in a long time.

Finally, I recently learned about this new documentary film, The Antidote, featuring "stories of kindness, decency and the power of community in America." I will be putting it on my family's calendar later this month.

If you are feeling nervous about the upcoming election, you are certainly not alone. But you have a great deal of choice in where to focus your attention. I hope you will join me in finding, celebrating, and encouraging the people and things that bring out the best in you and others.

Change without striving and suffering

I recently signed up to participate in a 30-day Healthy Habits Re-Start group coaching program with Katrina Piehler.

The idea is to identify one specific habit that I'd like to focus on over the course of a month, and then use the structure of the group (and attention of the coach) to help develop it. 

Going in, I felt drawn to the concept, but also apprehensive about choosing a specific habit. 

I did not want to make this some kind of strivey self-improvement project to demonstrate that I can be "good" by sticking to some set of rules. (I've been-there-done-that enough to know that the whole good/bad paradigm is exhausting and unsustainable.)

I also, frankly, didn't want to add anything else into my schedule that might compete with other things I care about.

So what did that leave?

What I came up with in my pre-program coaching call last week was mindful breathing.

Breathing is one of those magical things that we have to do all the time, anyway. We don't have to be aware of it, but we can be, with just a little shift in focus. 

Noticing my breathing doesn't take any extra time, or keep me from doing anything else I want to do, but it helps me get into the present moment. And being present makes everything else in life easier and more enjoyable.

I love the idea of taking a whole month to just practice noticing my breathing more and more often. Not just when I'm drinking my tea in the morning, or when I'm stressed out and need to relax, but at all sorts of other times too. 

The official program hasn't even started yet, but it's already done me good as I've practiced more mindful breathing over the last several days. It's helped me slow down and maintain perspective. It's helped me notice more of what's happening. And in the moments where I shift my attention, I feel the immediate payoff of exercising my own freedom and agency -- no sweaty workout or plateful of vegetables required.

It seems to me that this is where true, sustainable habit change comes from: finding those little things that truly, easily, and immediately fulfill us, and remembering to do them more. Mindful breathing may not be the thing for everyone, but I like to think that each person has a habit like that, that would be inherently fulfilling to develop, and naturally cascade into other positive changes.

What do you think one would be for you? Have you had any other habit-changing breakthroughs that were especially important to you? What prompted them?

I’d love to hear. And if you might want to join me in the 30-day Healthy Habits Re-Start, you can get more information here.

The importance of imperfect sharing

I've been feeling challenged the past several weeks when it gets to be blog-writing day.

I have things on my mind to say, but it can be hard to get it all out in an honest and coherent way. There is so much going on in the world. So much energy, so many conflicts, so much uncertainty, so little clarity.

I love the idea of being able to articulate something profound and universal, but more than ever I'm aware of how my words are imperfect and incomplete, subject to my own psychology, biases and limitations. There are so many people more thoughtful, eloquent, wise, and experienced than I am.

So why do I continue to do this every week?

A big part of it has to do with this month's featured message:

Writing every week is a way of affirming to myself that my voice matters. Not in a heavy, "the-world-would-crumble-without-it" sort of way, but more of a "I-have-a-right-to-be here" sort of way.

It's an affirmation that I have the freedom to experience what I experience, interpret things how I interpret them, and share in ways I want to share. It also ensures that I take some time each week to actually notice what's happening for me.

But it's not just about me and my right to be here. There's also a hope that, in practicing noticing and sharing, I might be valuable to other people.

I like to think that by offering what's alive but not necessarily polished and perfected, I'm doing my part to loosen the lie that only the most talented and successful among us are worthy of being listened to.   

I love the idea that someone might think: If Anne can do it, maybe I can do it too.... If I get value from what Anne shares, maybe people would get value from my perspective, too.... If Anne doesn't wait for it to be perfect, maybe I don't have to either.... Maybe I could even start now!

I know that when other people share what's true and honest for them, it is valuable to me. Listening to other people's experiences and perspectives helps me be more gentle and empathic. Being willing to be changed by people expands me in wonderful ways.

I think this is something our society urgently needs to practice right now. I think we need people who can listen to their fellow flawed human beings with a sense of openness, humility, and curiosity. And we can only practice this kind of listening if there are people willing to share. 

We need people willing to risk the likelihood that they will be mocked and misunderstood, for the possibility that they will make a positive difference for someone. To risk being judged, for the possibility of claiming their rightful place in this world.

We need people to know that their voice matters.

I hope you know that's true for you.

A reminder: You are loved

This weekend someone forwarded me this post that she'd seen from a friend on Facebook:

I don't have very many signs in Tennessee, so I don't actually think these were mine.

But it doesn't matter. The message is the message. 

This is why I do what I do.

Not just for the single people. For all the people.

Because we all know what it's like to be lonely.

We all know how good it feels to be cared about.

And we all have the capacity to extend that care to others.

Not just with signs, of course, but in so many different ways.

May you have many opportunities to practice.

Let's talk about cancel culture

Last week I listened to this Braver Angels debate on the question: Is ‘Cancel Culture’ Erasing Free Speech in America? (If you're not familiar, you can see the dictionary.com definition of cancel culture here.)

It was a respectful two-hour moderated conversation that included twelve different people, sharing opinions and experiences that hit the topic from multiple angles.

The goal of the debate was not to arrive at a single agreed-upon Truth, but for each of us to come away with more empathy for opposing viewpoints, more clarity about our own point of view, and a deeper understanding of the issue overall.

It totally worked for me.

I had three main takeaways related to the debate question itself:

• Cancel culture may inhibit people from expressing their honest opinions (for fear of being shamed), but it is doesn't threaten their legal right to free speech.

• In fact, cancelling someone can itself be seen as a form of free speech, and therefore something we have a right to do to one another.

• That said, just because we have a right to do it doesn't make it right. I didn't like cancel culture before I watched the debate, and I still don't. I think it's mean and counterproductive, and perpetuates fear and separation in a world that doesn't need more of either.

I also heard something new, though, as I listened to the people who were defending cancel culture. Underneath their justifications for these behaviors that I don't like was not vindictiveness, but pain.

Setting aside my typical impatience with their point of view, it became obvious that their primary goal wasn't to hurt people, or get revenge, or even be "right." Rather, what they wanted was for their specific hurts to be heard and seen and cared about. They were sick of being invisible.

I think a lot of this cancel culture dynamic has to do with our society's discomfort with emotional pain in general: We don't like to talk about it, don't like to see it in other people, and certainly don't like to experience it ourselves. So we don't have very good skills for dealing with it when it arises.

I want to live in a society where we recognize that mistakes -- even big ones -- are inevitable in human relationships, and we know what it takes to repair them. Where hurts are acknowledged and healed rather than denied and magnified. Where we feel safe enough in our families, communities, and workplaces to be honest with each other. Where we have no interest in using our free speech as a weapon.

Braver Angels-type conversations help with this, and I'm so grateful for them.

What else do you know of that helps? I’d love for you to tell me below.

Simon says: Ask up front!

When I write my weekly newsletters, I usually start by sharing a story or observation about life, and a kind wish for my readers. Then I add a little p.s. at the end about an event or product I'm offering.

This week, however, Simon Sinek convinced me that I've been doing it backwards.

If you're going to ask for something, just ask for it, he says. Don't write a bunch of nice friendly words, only to bury an ask at the end.

As soon as I heard his example, I knew he was right. Burying requests like that can come across as confusing, manipulative and insincere. And yet I've frequently been guilty of it.

Why?

Is it because I feel uncomfortable asking for help? 
Because I fear that people will regret, or resent, giving to me?
Because I feel pressure to give something before I feel worthy to receive?

Yes, all of those things. And I know I'm not alone in those feelings.

A lot of us have been socialized into beliefs like this: To need things is shameful. To want things is childish. To ask for things is selfish. To give is to lose something, or be taken advantage of, unless we’re getting something back.

We internalize all these messages without even realizing it. They operate in the background, influencing nearly everything we do. And they aren't even true.

The truth, at least as I've experienced it, is that it feels wonderful to give. I love knowing when there's something I could give that would make a difference to someone. And I like remembering that I have the freedom to decide for myself whether I want to give or not.

That is the experience I want to rely on when I communicate. The gift I want to give to people who read what I write.

I won’t be perfect, but I am going to practice.

What have you noticed about your own habits around asking for support?

A prayer for belonging

Last week I posted this photo to my personal Facebook page and asked people: “What is your response to this message?”

It was remarkable to read everyone's comments. Some people loved it, some were upset by it, some were conflicted, some were confused, some were comforted. It ended up being an eye-opening dialogue, and such a gift to be able to witness such diverse and honest perspectives.

Perhaps what I enjoyed most was realizing that asking the question, and welcoming people's answers, was itself an invitation to belong. A mini demonstration of how to actually live that message in addition to saying the words.

That is so much more important to me than everyone liking my shirt.

With that, I offer you these wishes for the week:

May you know that you belong here, on this earth.
May you know that you are seen. Wanted. Needed. Appreciated.
Not for what you do, but for the essence of who you are.

May you know these things as true even though you are different.
Even though you've made mistakes and caused pain.

Your differences and flaws don't damn you to a life of rejection and isolation.
Quite the opposite, they are what make you human.
One of us.

We are all figuring out how to live.

You have a right to be alive in this world. 

May you know that you belong.

Consistent action pays off!

It is amazing what a difference daily action can make.

Just over a week ago, I started dedicating an hour a day to Signs of Kindness outreach. Specifically, contacting people in the 12 states that are still sign-less to see who might be interested.

In Anchorage, Alaska, I have my first customer lined up, and am working with the co-lead of a Random Acts of Kindness Meetup group to identify a business that can print them locally for us. We're also lobbying for the business to donate a portion of their profits to the local food bank, which would make the whole arrangement like a quadruple+ win.

In Delaware, I've been talking with someone in Rehoboth Beach about ways her church could sell the signs as a fundraiser. I can think of at least three different ways we could make that work, and am so excited to give it a try.

I've been having fun on Facebook too, engaging with people in learning about about both states. One of many highlights was being reminded of this Moxy Früvous riff (warning: it's got swearing in it) that was recorded at a concert I attended live as a college student back in 1997. It turns out that the trivia fact they featured was wrong -- Delaware has the lowest mean elevation of all U.S. states, not the lowest highest point -- but it was still a wonderful blast from the past for me.

On top of that, I made a wonderful connection this last week with Laura Weiss, owner of Pigs & Things Crafts, who lives in the next town over from me. She is like the answer to a prayer I've been speaking for years: someone who designs things for the love of it, embodies a spirit of generosity, and is excited to co-create new Gift of Happiness products with me.

Within days, we had plans for what to offer and how to work together, and as of today, all the new products are up on her Etsy site for ordering, including a special launch offer good through 9/1/2020.

I am excited to be making progress, and seeing myself take consistent action on something that matters to me.

I am grateful to be getting help from someone whose gifts are a perfect match to mine, and who is delighted to be offering them.

And I am hopeful that there are many more opportunities and partnerships yet to come.

I would love to hear about something you're making progress on that brings you joy. Post a comment and let me know about it!

Meanness is easy. But it doesn't help.

So this sign made it into my news feed last week:

I find that sign offensive, mean-spirited and unhelpful.

For the record, I think this one is, too:

Depending on your political leanings, maybe one of those made you chuckle. A release valve, perhaps, for pent up anger and frustration. Or the sweet satisfaction of your "side" getting in a dig at the other, whether crude and distasteful or not.

If I'm honest, I experienced that too.

But neither of these signs would I want to put out into the world.

Messages like these don't help bring about any of the changes I actually care about. They don't help me feel more connected to or grateful for my neighbors. They don't help me get curious or learn anything new. They don't help me explore new perspectives or think about solutions. They don't inspire me to be courageous or creative, or try to imagine what's possible. They don’t help me be a better person, in any way.

Instead, they perpetuate meanness. And I don't think anyone wants more of that.

The people I know, from all political persuasions, want other things. They want more kindness. More wisdom. More fairness. More joy.

The problem is, you don't get more of what you want by criticizing people who don't offer it.

The only way you get more of it is by finding it yourself -- and then sharing it.

If you want to see more beauty in the world, for example, you need to seek out and create beauty. During the pandemic, artist Alex Cook has been using his front yard to create different paintings and stick sculptures each week, like this one, which I find incredibly beautiful.

If you want more lightheartedness, then you need to find and share that. Someone near me keeps putting up signs like these on their fence, and I love them too:

And if you want to experience more kindness, that starts with you too. Recognize it. Appreciate it. Extend it. And if you're the yard sign type, share it that way. I've now got 20 different messages you can choose from, including these:

The language we use is powerful, and the First Amendment gives us amazing freedom over what we say and how we say it.

We can use our freedom to fight and criticize the "enemy" -- ensuring that we will be quick to find (and make) enemies everywhere. Or we can use it to express what we stand for -- making it more likely that we'll find and create that.

What do you want to see more of right now?

Where are you already seeing it?

How are you already being it?

Whatever it is, please keep focusing on it, and please share what you're doing.

We need all the positive role models we can get.

Where is the anxiety coming from?

I feel like I have a really wonderful life right now. I've got a job I love, with colleagues I admire, doing work that feels meaningful and challenging. I've got happy kids, a rewarding marriage, and a great support network. I also have a safe and comfortable place to live, enough money to pay the bills, and projects that I enjoy.

I also feel anxious and disappointed a lot -- along with, apparently, a large chunk of the U.S. population.

It's easy to see that unhappiness as an opportunity for personal growth, and to some extent I think it is. Good habits are important, and I bet that if I made improvements to my sleep, exercise, nutrition, meditation practice, etc., I'd see welcome shifts in my mood.

At the same time, I can't help but wonder if there's more to the feelings than me just needing to practice better self care.

I wonder if the angst and anxiety I feel isn't only about me.

If we are all connected -- and I do believe that's true -- then my sense of well-being comes from more than my own personal circumstances. It rests on your well-being too, and the well-being of my community, country and world. And there's a lot of pain out there right now. 

To be sensitive to it is not necessarily a bad thing.

"It is no measure of health," said Krishnamurti, "to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society."

If you too sometimes struggle in ways that feel disproportionate to your circumstances, maybe there isn't anything wrong with you at all.

Perhaps you are simply a healthy human being who cares.