#gratitudeNow: I know... me

So a big part of my mindful practice is a focus on growth. Every single day of my life I consider who I am as a person, what I do, why I do it, and how.

I’m not perfect. I make mistakes. Sometimes I can be self-centered, sometimes oblivious. But I’m compassionate about it. I recognize that I’m a frail, imperfect human creature. Like everyone.

And that fills me with love and compassion for myself, and for every other person, too.

Which brings me to tonight.

So, I’m coding away on WeMinder, working like a demon trying to get the last 3% or so of it done before release. And I make this HUGE breakthrough, hit a big milestone. I save the code, commit it, and have a moment of blissful relief.

And I’m exhausted, so very tired. But I’m also keyed up. So I go online, to a discord I like, and chat a bit.

One of the chatters, someone I’ve never talked to before, asks “Can someone talk please?”

To which I responded, “Sure, for a few minutes.”

Then we got into it. I won’t get into details, because privacy. But he was nervous about something big, and worried how it was going to go.

I dropped some mindful taoism on him. Showed him one of my favorite zen story videos ever, and gave him my favorite zen piece of music ever.

And he was, absolutely, 100% soothed, and had his despair judo-flipped to a place of calm, enlightened, peace.

He thanked me.

But I’m just as thankful.

Because it’s in these moments that I can see myself for who I am. I can be incredibly hard on myself. I have a terrible case of the “type a’s”. I always think I can do more, be better, do it faster, improve. I so rarely allow myself rest, or imperfection.

But it’s after these sorts of experiences I can cut myself a break. Who am I? I’m the sort of guy who always manages to eke out a few minutes for people in need, and who recognizes that we’re all in this together.

I love who I am.

#gratitudeNow: Sometimes, I am a good boy.

It's funny how a good night's sleep sets you to rights.  I had an excellent one last night, getting to bed on time, lights out.  I got 7 hours and 20 minutes of gorgeous sleep.  

I struggle with bedtimes often.  I don't want to go to bed, or have a ton of things on my mind, or busy myself with unimportant things.  There's no video game that needs 20 more minutes of playing, no facebook post that needs replying to, more than I need my sleep.

But I rocked it last night.  Then this morning, I woke up feeling ready to take on the world.  Missy got me out of my diaper, and into the shower, and got on her way.

After I got out, I got nice sweet text messages from her.

These, specifically.

Intellectually, I know I'm generally well behaved. and a good boy.  But it sure is nice to be told so.

#gratitudeNow:A Little Less Meaning

So, I have this sort of dirty confession to make.  

I'm mean.

But the trick is, it's really only to myself.  I grew up with a lot of pressure to excel, had a very typical preppie/jewish/success-oriented sort of childhood.  I was a smart kid, and my mom and dad were both proud of that, but also rather unrelenting about it.  If I brought home a B, that was fine, but how about an A?  And if I brought home an A, how about an A+?  And if I brought home an A+, well, that's living up to my potential.  

That sort of thing.  My dad, who was a pretty bad guy, was also a very wealthy, self-made sort for many years.  There was this unspoken thing between him and me - that it was my job to improve on what he had done, to seek and go beyond his level.

He's long since left the planet, and as my partner Maya likes to say, I'm my own "grown-ass mandog" now.  But there's stuff written down in my BIOS or whatever, that remains.

I tend to push myself.  I always have a lot going on.  I'm ambitious.  And frequently, I am the very worst critic of my own efforts.  It's a weird mix, because at the same time I can have almost rocket-powered levels of self-esteem to the point of arrogance.  I know when I'm good at something, because I'm used to advocating for myself.  It's exhausting.

But I'm lucky.  I surround myself with people who love me, and who go out of their way to tell me I mean a lot to them, or that my efforts or character are worthwhile.  My wife Missy, my girlfriend Alissa, my girlfriend Maya, my brother Spacey, my sister Pene, all regularly shower me with love and affection and validation.

But this post, it's not about them.  (Except to tell them that I love them.)

It's about a friend of mine, Dixie.

We've been friends for years.  She's an age player like me.  She's witty, silly, and smart.  We're book friends, and nerd friends, and just like one another enormously.

I think the world of her.  And recently, she wasn't feeling so hot, and asked folks to post why they liked her.  So I told her.

 "You're insightful and thinky in general and about fiction in particular. You have strong, passionate opinions, because you're a person of deeply held convictions. I love that. 

Also, you're really cute."

(This is true, she's adorable.)

She wrote this thing back to me, that just utterly took my breath away.

"You have one of the biggest hearts I've ever known, and you are constantly looking to better yourself and become even more self aware, which is amazing"

I'm honestly a little teary over it, in the best way.  Thank you, Dixie.

I can feel myself loosening that white-knuckle grip I keep around myself so often.  I feel a little more worthy of my own love today.