Pie

Roy told me of a fellow who gives motivational talks. This fellow used the metaphor of a pie to demonstrate how some people build others up while others only tear down. He referred to them as pie givers and pie takers. Roy told me I needed to surround myself with more pie givers, so I would have pie instead of a lack of pie.

I like the metaphor.

Roy is a pie giver. I always have excess when I have been around Roy. I want to be a pie giver too. He taught me that it takes so little time and effort to be nice to someone and make them feel good. It's a simple lesson and I should have learned it long ago. However, it came at a time when I was so much more susceptible to it, and it came from one who does live what he says. Roy talks the talk and walks the walk.

I want to also.

This last weekend I had a weekend filled to overflowing with people who built me up. (Note to myself for memory aide, but to stay modest also. It was at an award ceremony.) Quite literally everyone was nicer than I realized so many people could be at one time and place. From Dr. Meehan to the lady who controlled access to the suites and so opened the door for everyone...with a big smile every time. Everyone was so wonderful. I rode an emotional high from Saturday morning until Tuesday morning. An overflowing of pie that took me through more than one day.

And then Tuesday morning, this morning, I attended a forum where quite literally everyone was cold and pushy and...well, to keep it clean and simple...very much not nice. Pie robbers. They didn't get pie from me because I wanted to give it to them. They took it by force against my wishes. Robbery. They took even when there was nothing left to take.

No wonder I was in such a horrible and angry mood when I got home. Spouse wondered what in the world was wrong with me...and why the very sudden and quite drastic change.

Robbers. Meanies. Self-absorbed.

It's a cold world.

That's why I want to be a pie giver. But I want to do it willingly, and sincerely. I don't want to be extorted.

My experience of this morning could have left me bitter enough to trash the entire idea. Why should I go out of my way to be nice to people who are robbers? Well, I don't want to be like the rest of the cold world. I want to be one of those who helps change the world. Yeah, serving pie always makes people happy. Just think of a big slab of hot apple pie with cold ice cream melting over the sides. Makes you smile, doesn't it? It makes others smile too when they receive it.

Build up.

Be a pie giver.

Thanks, Roy, for being a pie giver and for teaching me how to be one.

What's the use?

I spend probably as much as half my life wishing for things that never happen, will never happen and have no chance of happening.

Yes, I'm sure everyone will say, "me too!" The only thing that makes my situation different is that the greatest portion of my wishes are for simple things, for things that do not cost much or anything. That's why it's harder to come to terms with the consequences. I can accept that I'll never win the lottery, that I'll never be chosen for advancement to a plum position, that I'll never win the Nobel Peace Prize. Those are items or events that certainly have a place in people's dreams and always will. And it never hurts one to dream.

But when you wish for the friendship of a person, not an unattainable celebrity or renown politician, but the friendship of the person down the hallway. Just someone to sit and talk with in those lonely or troubled moments. Or just talk about anything. When that simple and attainable goal doesn't happen, and repeatedly, it does begin to turn one's eyes inward. If there are so many people who choose not to be friendly toward me, then the possibility that they all have a problem begins to fade quickly.

So what's wrong with me? What fatal character flaw do I possess that makes so many people flee me? I really would like to know, difficult as it may be to hear. I would truly like to know what I do or have done, what I seem or not...do I stink?

Even being bold enough to ASK doesn't bring satisfaction. I believe that no one will say because of fear of hurting feelings. "No, there's no problem." Proverbially, actions speak louder than words. I'm weary of being the one to continue to run after others to keep the friendship, if that's what it actually is, current and warm. Am I so forgettable? Or not forgettable, but, gee, they wish I'd be...be gone!

I would even take Making Friends 101 if that would help, if it were offered, artificial as that probably would make things. I thought (as people have told me without my asking) that I was a caring and warm person. Either they all lie to me or I am not that way and as soon as they discover that, they try to wiggle away.

Oh yes, I'm sure it sounds as if I'm feeling sorry for myself. Maybe so. I'm only human after all. But after many years of this, self-pity doesn't come first, so much as that burning desire to know what it is about me that is such a friend-repellent.

Let them know

The world is a cold place. Common courtesy is dead. Selfishness reigns. Concern for others is wheezing its last breath. People no longer respond "you're welcome" to a sincere thanks, but rather belt out, "no problem!", as if a request for assistance is a problem, unless it is officially pronounced not so. That has become part of the culture and many people are surprised that I find it rude. That's one of many barometers of how far our society has degenerated.

Social entropy. Society continues to trend toward its lowest energy state. Measure that energy as compassion, courtesy, selflessness...or many other synonyms. Drag out Roget.

Because such is the case, it is beyond refreshing to become acquainted with someone who defies the trend and dares to give abundantly of himself. It's very close to amazing. I had thought that nowadays one needed to be intimately befriended to someone for years before that person would open up to true generosity and compassion. Color me bemused, but well pleased.

It is equally important to let such a person know that he stands out, and that it's appreciated. Oh yes, in this world, it's much appreciated. In our entropic society, how many people will return to someone to let him or her know that individual had an affect, made a difference, contributed something of substance that helped one make it through another day? As rare as courtesy, which that is, indeed.

But also let us not forget the people already in our life who have shown us love, friendship and care. Don't take that for granted. It is such a rare commodity these days. A sincere, simple "thank you" can mean so much...so long as it is sincere. I don't intend to forget those whose friendship I have and their adoption tried. It was simply such a surprise to meet someone who was open and caring from the beginning.

So, let them know. It takes a moment to say thank you. It takes a moment longer to say why. And this costs nothing. What easier gift can one give than something which is a builder and which takes so little effort? Perhaps you wish to put more effort into it. A little anonymous note is a wry touch. If one can't bring thank you to the lips, or is doubting of how it will be accepted, or thinks it may be looked upon as seeking favor, then a slip of paper expressing appreciation is the perfect solution. Use your imagination...be creative. Even if it's a simple doodle around the edges. If you wish to take more effort, then that effort will be noticed and appreciated.

Let everyone know how much you appreciate them. Start a revolution. Be kind. Be friendly. Be caring. It takes energy to reverse entropy. But that energy will not be expended in vain.

Emerging

It has been a long and quiet absence from blogging. However, the intervening months have been anything but quiet, though they have been long. I am not here to cry on any one's shoulder though, nor air it all. The truth is that very few truly care to hear a whit of it, much less the gory details. I had hoped things would begin to settle by now. How many crises can happen in one's life consecutively for ten months now? Quite a few, it seems.

Life continues though. Whether one wishes it or not, it is so. No matter how difficult, how painful, nor how horrificly life can slam a person into the ground, indifferent Life goes on without skipping a beat. And perhaps that is the lesson. We must go on as well. Even in the uncertainty and hurt of events, we must go on. Is there a choice?

As it turns out, there is a choice. I've stood on the precipice many times and considered. I have felt the ground begin to crumble 'neath my feet. Someone else besides I knows what safety net has been strung and who strung it; I know not. Many times I do not care.

This time I care more. Maybe that's a sign that I'm growing up. Certainly my many years make me an adult. However, I know that inside I still tend to wander as an unknowing and uncaring child, searching for that mature one to guide me, rescue me, teach me.

To dredge up the overly used maxim and arrange it to my use, if it's true that what does not kill one makes one stronger, then I should be the Incredible Hulk at this point. I certainly do not feel it. My knees and my heart still tremble and quake each day I must face. What now? Which new round will Life fire at my broken heart? Will this be the one to still it?

It's not an enjoyable way to face each day.

Even if I may not be emerging yet from the crucible of testing, at least I am emerging from the silence. The blog may be completely passed by perusers, but it is my corner, where I can be me and take these things out to examine, and maybe leave them behind, shed them, as I do emerge from the crucible. Time will tell...as Life goes on.

Life, Death, Family and Managers

I found out this week there is a connection between all these. The connection of life and death is obvious and I won't belabor it. The connection of family to life and death seems obvious but is not always so. Family should enhance life, reinvigorate life, but so many times family can bring such things that seem more like death. "YouAlways Hurt the One You Love ' is the name of a song but, to use the trite expression, life imitates art, and so it is for me. Refrain from the sad stories and, in fact, too much information of what deep hurts family inflicted on me. We all have stories. Some are deeper and more intense. I will simply say that I was an outsider to my immediate family in reality, not just perception.

Even so, the precise meaning of death is absence of life. That condition devolved on my father this week. What a chaos this released in my life. I wasn't certain if I should feel grief or not. Yes, of course, he was my father, but that does not instantly mean that grief follows. That is determined by the form of the relationship while life remained. Much later I realized that what I felt was grief. Indeed, not what you might think. Of course I was not glad he died, but what I mourned was the relationship that never was, and now has no chance of being. But I digress...

Brief let me be. I discovered that my father died, not from my brother or sister, but from a stranger, a nurse, and quite soon after it happened. So, the sequence is receive an email, make a call and find out. But his death wasn't so sudden. He had been in the hospital nearly three weeks. I had no clue.

Such being the state of affairs, calling brother or sister for commiserating or consolation was not an option. (Confirmed by the call my brother eventually gave me to inform me of the death, gruff and no hint of conciliation and no further communication.) Naturally I did talk to my wonderful, steadfast spouse. I have talked at length about him previously, so I will simply say he was as strong and supportive as always. Still, it does take time for any such emotional trauma to thaw and resolve itself into a dew.

Not wishing to go home alone to think and not reckon it all out for myself, I remained at work. What a joke. I should mark that day as leave and be honest about it, for all I accomplished afterward. I couldn't sit still at my desk. I wandered the corridor, trying to make sense of all the conflicted emotions. That's when I ran into the director of our department. Roy is a nice guy, but I really don't know him. I haven't interacted with him much outside of meetings and "hi"in the hallway. I don't think it took a great deal of perception for him to realize, as he put it, "you don't look okay". Roy invited me to talk in his office. I would have talked to anyone who showed the slightest interest. Download and relieve the pressure.

This is what brings me to the manager connection. Managers have historically been, for me, a touchy subject and situation. Yeah, we all know that story too. We have our stories. And I've heard the other side--the good managers who care and are easy to work for. I have very little experience there, let me be clear.

It did cross my mind, having that background, what are you doing in the director's office pouring out your guts?? So, color me surprised when Roy enveloped me in this snug, compassionate, bear hug. I didn't know he could do that. Hey, I'm a hugger. I like giving and receiving. And it was a good quality hug. He listened patiently with true interest and offered insights that, in my state of mind, I hadn't thought of. He gave me time and attention, the best thing at such a time. Generous and sincere.

My branch chief, Julie, was equally compassionate. (No, I didn't run all over and cry on all shoulders I could find. However, death is information that a manager should know.) She was free with her time and showed genuine interest and concern. Talking to her, whom I know not well, was like talking to a long time friend. She made it that way. She checked on me through the rest of the week.

I work for wonderful managers. I simply didn't realize how wonderful until now. Two managers that I didn't know well at all showed more compassion and concern than family. (See, it is all coming together.) Family offered death, in more than one way, and managers offered life. Too heavily philosophical? Probably, but I'm sure some of you know just how deeply something like this shoves one into thinking a great deal, maybe too much.

Thanks Roy and Julie. Many thanks many times over. Managers are people too. I shall treat them so since they have treated me that way.For all of you suffering loss, my great condolences. I wish I could reach out to you the same way.