#365Gratitude Day 272: An Unexpected Benefit

Three years ago or so, Spacey and I started doing the Big Little Podcast.  When we did, it was kind of a lark at first.  We had taught classes at events before, and thought that podcasting could be an interesting new way to share what we knew and cared about with other people.

We had no idea it would take off like it has, and do the good that it's done.  While I am very grateful for the podcast, my gratitude today (well, okay, yesterday) isn't about that exactly.

It's about this other thing that's happened to me, that I've got from being what Spacey, Mae, and I have come to call a "podcat."  I've made some amazing friends I never would have otherwise.

It boggles my mind a bit, really.  I have good friendships with people all over the world from this work I do.  I regularly talk to people as far away as Australia and Germany, and all over the United States.  And these aren't casual, drive-by, like-their-post-on-facebook-while-eating-a-sandwich type friendships, but relationships with depth and quality.  

So much so that when I have been dealing with the tragedy of a relative's passing, they've gone out of their way to email me, or reach out to me through one of the ways we connect, and comfort me, directly.  

So much so that I've either visited them, they've gone out of their way to visit me, or we've become more than friends.  (Yes, I'm talking about you, Vee.)

How did I get so lucky?

I have no idea.  But I'm grateful for it.

#365Gratitude Day 271: Compassion School, 200 Level Courses

Recently, my daily practice of meditation and contemplation has been set squarely on compassion.

It's not my first time contemplating this particular subject.  5 years ago, I spent 18 solid months on it.  

It was some of the most grueling, rewarding, mental work I've done.  I really found my bliss about loving other people from it.  

I used to be a much angrier person back then.  We lived in a rental house that had been built post-war, and had been really abused by its former tenants.  It was maintained by a notoriously tight-fisted property manager, who in turn had issues with the property owner.  We had so many maintenance problems, including a pervasive gas leak that had been there since we had moved in!  That revelation and the comedy of errors around it caused me to lose my shit, mightily, in a scathing e-mail to the property manager, where I shamed him as a person, an inept manager, and a selfish human being.

It wasn't one of my prouder moments.  Right around then, I came to the culmination of my contemplations about compassion.  A few days later, I wrote him back, and apologized.  He was much more diligent about attending to our needs in a timely manner after that.  The place, and the situation, was still riddled with problems, and we moved out about a year later.

The really big thing I got out of my contemplation was this:

You've seen those pain-assessment-chart-faces things in hospitals, right?  Like this one?

Well, having compassion for other people on that scale above, in terms of effort, is a 17.  Having compassion for yourself on the other hand, that's more like a 37.

It's really. fucking. hard.

And what's more, you have to have it for yourself, before you can have it for anyone else.  I was more mad at myself about living in that rat trap, and letting myself be taken for a ride, than I was at the purveyor of the rat trap.  

Anyhow, great.  Bells and whistles, found my bliss, all done.  Right?

Not so much. 

About a month ago or so, I realized I needed to get back to it.  I've not been doing the best job lately at being compassionate to myself.  I've been really hard on myself lately, in all sorts of ways, to a point that is unhealthy.

Cue bitter laugh.  I often say that "Tao provides."  Life has a way of bringing to me just what I need, just when I need it.  Often what Tao provides really, really sucks.  My mother-in-law's passing would be chief among the Very Great Suckage the Tao has conveniently provided me.  

Watching your wife suffer and being helpless to do anything about it is among the worst of things I have experienced so far. 

Along the way though, some really good things have come out of this.  I spent about 20 or so hours in a car having pretty serious discussions with two of my thinky-est friends about life, relationship issues, and my return to compassion school.  

They made it fairly plain to me that I'm a lot better person than I give myself credit for, and that I'm in a pretty good place in the areas of my life I've been giving myself grief for.  They showed me to slow down, and take stock.  It was a great benefit to me.

Then we talked about issues in their own lives - which I won't discuss here, because, they're private.

Self-esteem and self-improvement have been immensely on my mind lately, both for myself and for many people I care about.  Yesterday, Tao provided again, because I found this amazing article by Steve Pavlina, about how to balance those two things.

It's dense, deep stuff, 200 level Contemplation School work.  I'm grateful to be working on it.

#365Gratitude Day 270: Waypoints

Friday we left Florida, heading for home.  We traveled most of the way home, stopping in Raleigh, NC, at our friend Maya's, as a waypoint.  

That stop was a literal, and metaphorical waypoint, a "set of coordinates that identify a point in physical space", as well as in my and my wife's lives.

It's been a very difficult week.  I drove down to Florida to meet my wife, and sister-in-law, and assorted other family, because my mother-in-law passed away Monday.

My mother-in-law has had health issues to varying degrees for a long time now, but about two months ago, they ratcheted up in speed, power, and complexity.  It created a whirlwind of unhappiness, and discord in our lives, but most especially for my wife and her sister.  My wife was at her bedside when she passed.  My sister-in-law was in the air, on her way back there, after having spent several torturous days there helping Missy tend to her affairs.  I rushed down right after it happened, too, aided by two of my closest friends, Maya and Michael, who split the drive with me.  They selflessly spent the time down there with us, aiding the family in big ways and small, and being emotional support.  

It's a debt I can never repay.

On our way back up, we stopped in Raleigh after about 13 hours on the road.  After a week in limbo, it was good to have a safe space to crash in, literally.  Yesterday, the last leg of the trip, the drive back home had a dreamy, surreal quality.  It wasn't just slowly slipping back into familiar geographical territory, but feeling the phase shift through life-before-tragedy, crisis, and life-after-tragedy.

We returned home to our well cared for house and pets, and a delicious dinner, to boot, thanks to our friend Rachel, who watched the cats while we were away.  

I'm beyond grateful for the ways so many have seen us through these waypoints.

#365Gratitude Day 269: Spider Sundae

One of my favorite authors is Spider Robinson.  He wrote an amazing book called Callahan's Cross-Time Saloon.  It's about a mythical bar in Long Island, New York, where aliens, time travellers, vampires, and other unusual characters get together to discuss what's on their minds. 

It starts with a toast.  They order a drink, step up to a chalk line, and toast whatever's on their mind, good or bad.   Then they drain their drink, and throw their glass into the fireplace, smashing it into bits.

Afterwards, all the other bar patrons listen as the toast-giver explains his toast, with a story.  Then, they lend their support.  It's beautiful. 

Jake, one of the main characters in the book, and really Spider Robinson's in-story avatar, pithily describes the philosophy behind the bar, and this sacred ritual.  "Shared pain is lessened, shared joy is increased.  Thus we refute entropy." 

It's perfect. 

I witness things like this happen in my own life sometime.  Yesterday (which this gratitude is for) was such a day.  Earlier in the day, we attended my mother-in-law's funeral.  It was a beautiful and terrible event. 

A while afterward, Missy, my sister-in-law, two of my closest friends on the planet, and I went out for some very delicious and unhealthy food.  We split this fine concoction you see below, an old-fashioned banana split sundae. 

As we ate, we laughed, cried, and shared.  The terrible got a little less terrible, for a few moments.  Joyful sharing made nostalgic things sweet, and helped connect a rough day to many other better ones.

I'm grateful we got to do that.

#365Gratitude Day 268: Hugging my wife

When you haven't done it in a while, you come to understand how very good a thing it is to hug your wife.