In Praise of Paeans

  

I have been contemplating -- and yes, I admit it -- complaining about the general lack of acknowledgments being bandied about in our world today.   I don't really understand why people don't acknowledge each other more.  It's so damn fun.  Why wouldn't everyone want to do it?

I was trained very well by a series of friends and family, starting with my dad, who loved to acknowledge me and others.  I watched him do it in his business and saw that it was what made it a happy workplace.  I also knew how it worked on me, marking my evolution as a good person, to show me that someone was watching who I was becoming in the world. 

It feels great to be acknowledged as thoughtfully as my dad did it, with all his heart on deck for the ceremony of it all, but damn I am also absolutely unabashedly conscious of the fact that it makes me feel just as happy to acknowledge others as it makes them feel.  I don't do it for me.  At least I don't think I do.  But honestly how could I separate out a history of feeling better when acknowledging someone?  And does it really matter if part of my motivation is that making someone feel good also feels good to me? I think not.  

I think acknowledging people can be vulnerable work, and it's possible I'm just used to the years of vulnerability.  You have to unveil what touched or moved you to speak up.  I find that even when I am acknowledging something devoid of emotional spin, I do feel a little vulnerable still to this day.  Will they reject my acknowledgment, disagree or not like the way I say it?  I often have a hard time receiving it myself. It's even more vulnerable to receive it, but still giving it is vulnerable as well.

Several months ago I accomplished a near miracle for someone and I received no acknowledgment for it.  I was thrilled beyond belief to have been able to accomplish this not so small near miracle.  Truly, I remember feeling more alive than possibly ever before when it occurred.  I was buzzing with the thrill of it all.  So I got all the goodies that come from doing a good deed.  Yet, the lack of acknowledgment of any kind put a little dent in the post-near-miracle joy.  It's like we didn't put a period at the end of the sentence of that experience.  We wrote that sentence together. It's begging for a punctuation mark.

I didn't need a big thank you.  Sometimes the tiniest, simplest of thank you's are the most precious.  Two days ago I found this acknowledgment on my front porch.  It was sent to me by my neighbor's son.  I asked her why I had been so blessed to find this magical black handmade envelope and magical contents awaiting me.

She explained that her son had been contemplating the used -- yes USED - birdfeeders I had handed off to them, and decided that he wanted to do something nice for me.  So he made these lovely little sculptures and wrapped them lovingly, artistically and left them for me as a little love surprise.

 

 

I'm pretty sure this heals every single missed acknowledgment I have had in my entire life.  They truly are the best neighbors on the planet and his mom and I actually have a battle of acknowledgments that we have agreed is a little out of control, yet slightly hilarious. But neither of us is lying, we just truly do appreciate each other and what we do for each other.   But she wins the battle because when her kids say thank you - often in the form of artistic missives like this one - even if its the sweet little utterances of the words "Thank you Miss Bridget," my heart is beyond satiated and happy at the punctuation mark on that lovely sentence.

 

Today someone at work provided me with something truly brilliant.  I asked for some information but I got far, far more than that, all of it exquisitely written aka "stealable"!  I wrote an email to her boss and her boss's boss to mark the occasion of her going above and beyond and being a genius about it to boot.

 

Her boss forwarded my email to her and she thanked me for my paean.  I am embarrassed that I have been on this planet as long as I have and did not previously know this most glorious word.  It's now my favorite word. 

 

Who doesn't love enthusiastic praise?  It's a true gift and like every gift exchange it really is hard to figure out which end is more satisfying.  But I think paeans are the gift that keeps on giving. 

 

Acknowledgment: it's what's for dinner.   Try it, you'll like it.  Paeans will be served for dessert over a warm berry compote.  

 

 

 

 



I Found a Yoga Superhero of Love!

 

I've been wrestling a lot of octopi recently, final edits (hopefully) on my book and my hormones/weight being two of the biggies.  Slippery, many-tentacled creatures, I'd have one handled, two, three and then four in my control...and then SNAP!  Start all over again!

 

One of the messages I've been getting -- in the form of every book I open, every show I turn on, every friend I talk to -- I HEAR YOU, GOD! --  has been to get back to yoga. 

 

I haven't had a happy relationship with yoga, though, for almost two years.  About 17 months ago I hurt my hip pretty badly in a power yoga class with a less than stellar teacher.  It doesn't affect my daily life.  I just can't sit in anything near a cross-legged position, which is pretty much of a yoga deal-breaker.   At least it was one for me when I tried to go back to yoga a few times only to get curious looks from teachers and students when I was accommodating my injury with alternate postures.  I grew sick of the looks and also got advice from people I trust that I should stop stretching it, that yoga was probably the wrong thing to do for it. 

 

But then the messages started pouring in and it occurred to me I could do this in the privacy of my own home, just me and my hip, no curious judging looks, as awkward as I want to be.  I've been doing yoga since I was 18 so I know what to do but I didn't want to self-guide, I wanted someone fun to lead me through it.  So, I said to my hip, "Hey let's start gently, with a yoga video on youtube."  My hip liked that idea and googled yoga videos.  Smart hip.

 

The first hit in the list was my new yoga mecca, Yoga With Adriene.  She is a Superhero of Love, because man oh man does she have a way of encouraging us to love our bodies and where we are exactly in this moment, like no other teacher I've experienced.  Somehow, also like no other teacher before her, she takes me instantly to calm.  Seriously. Instantly.  I never get distracted or wonder how many minutes are left.  This is nothing short of a miracle for me, who listens to podcasts or books AND plays solitaire while on the elliptical!

 

But my #1 favorite thing about Adriene is she has this incredibly perfect human moments like seeing a piece of lint on the floor in front of her mat and then looking down at her yoga pants with the comment -- mid-pose -- "I seem to have a lot of fuzzies on my pants today!"  But when she says it it doesn't even slightly take you out of the moment or distract from the pose.  

 

How does she do it?!  Genius!  She is delightful and she really knows her stuff. 

 

I didn't want to put too much pressure on myself because of my complex recent relationship with yoga, so to start, I committed to doing her 30 Days of Yoga (recorded in January 2015) because it just drew me.  I'm on day 8 but yesterday I did two videos from her other series and today I did one from another in addition to my minimum, because I really wanted to.  I wanted to.  Seriously, a miracle that I wanted to do more than my commitment.  After having a love-hate relationship with yoga for the last few years leading up to my injury, I feel like I am in miracle-ville. 

 

I realize now the hate part was I can't stand being preached to by teachers.  But Adriene doesn't preach.  She sincerely, gently, suggests.  Authentically.  That's the difference. 

 

My hip is way better on this Day 8.  I look forward to it healing completely.  And Tallulah is super happy about this new yoga practice.  For the first 6 days she lay two feet away like this, very polite, just out of reach, watching, almost pretending to sleep but totally alert: "What is this new thing my human is doing on the floor?  I must make sure I stay awake as it may require my assistance."

 

 

 

Yesterday and today -- with multiple videos and more sweat -- she decided that her assistance would be to lick the sweat off me.  I put her nearby stuffed dog on her back, but that didn't deter her.

I may have to wear a head to toe rubber suit to continue my practice with Tallulah nearby but it'll be worth it because....Adriene rocks.

Love Warriors: A Call to Action!

 

The book I'm finishing is The Superhero's Guide to Break-Ups, Loss & Heartache.  Therefore when several people I trust told me to pre-order a book called Love Warrior, it was kind of a no-brainer. 

I have to admit, though, I was scared to open it when it arrived on Tuesday.  Would it make my book irrelevant?  Four years of work down the drain?  But then I heard her interviewed of author Glennon Doyle Melton on Linda Sivertsen's podcast (Linda Sivertsen & Martha Beck Interview Author Glennon Doyle Melton) I knew that her book was very different because there is no one exactly like Glennon, just like there is no one exactly like me, or you, dear reader.  We all have these juicy little unique hearts holding their very own juicy little unique stories.  That's why everyone who wants to tell their story should.

Glennon has a way with telling hers in a way that might really have a shot at opening millions of hearts.  She has wrestled bulimia (since age 10), alcoholism (since her early teens), mental illness, a cheating husband, motherhood and the circuitous and perfect journey toward her own recipe for faith.  The gift of this book is that she opens her heart so your can feel safe rummaging around in yours, looking at "what's underneath" the pain and behind the walls she has built around her heart.  We all do it.  She makes the journey to an open heart feel possible.  If she can do it, we can do it.

She can turn a phrase too.  Some of them took my breath away.

On motherhood:

"The scent of him is so comforting and soothing it has ruined regular air for me altogether."

On the trauma's life can deal us:

"Shock is a grace period.  It gives a woman time to gather what she needs around her..."

On faith:

"Fear and God together will never make sense to me again."

 
I read it in just two nights.  It's a fast read because it's authentic.  If you know of anyone looking for a heart opener, anyone looking to have a possible breakthrough with their addiction, bulimia, or with the ever-delicate balancing act of being a mother and wife, click here: Love Warrior Book.