#365Gratitude: Angry response led me to a grave situation

So I woke up this morning to someone pissing me off.  A longtime listener to the podcast wrote a not-so-nice thing about our show release schedule, which hasn't been exactly speedy these days.  This particular listener said, "I used to look forward to each podcast. I realize you guys have a life beyond this, but it's become a joke."

Here's an idea!  BE ANGRY!  Or maybe do something about it, instead...

 I'll admit it, my first inclination was anger.  I was going to say something back in anger, that sort of thing.

I sat down and thought about it though.  First, what good would that do?  It would just be hurtful, and I'm not about being hurtful.  Heck, it's a constant part of my everyday practice to not create or contribute to needless suffering.  

I thought about deleting the post so no one would see it, and just kicking the person out of the group.  Similarly, what would that accomplish?  Truthfully, our release schedule has been very, very slow of late.  

For a few minutes, I even contemplated calling it quits on the podcast altogether, because this isn't the first time I've heard stuff like this, and to be honest, it really stings every time I hear it. 

So, I did some processing.  I sent a message to Spacey, and Mae about the post with a one word comment.  "Ugh."  That's shorthand for a bunch of things:

• This sucks.
• I feel bad at letting listeners down.
• Can you believe the stones on this guy?
• What an ingrate!
• We really need to get better at this.
• Boy I want to vent about this to you guys.

Then I sat and meditated on it, contemplated it some.  I thought back to a previous series of contemplations I'd done on the nature of anger, and the varied ways one might respond to it, and what comes of it.  Generally, escalation doesn't work out well.

So, here's what I did.

First, I wrote to the guy, directly, and told him I wasn't going to post an angry response, bounce him out of the group, or post some public castigation of him.  (That's why even though I posted his little quote here, I haven't identified him by name, or linked to it, or any such thing.  If you really want to chase him down after reading this, that's on you, okay?) I commiserated with him about our slow production and release schedule as of late, and told him "whatever it is that's got you so riled up that you'd post something so angry and hurtful in the group, I hope that it gets better."

Then, as soon as that was done, I felt so much better, so grateful, that I realized that even at this very early hour, that  this whole sordid affair was my gratitude for the day.  Because situations like this help me know who I am.  I'm proactive about being kind.

I went looking for a good graphic to wrap this post around, and did a google search on "turning the other cheek."  But after a lot of searching, the images I found weren't really cutting it for me.  I'm not Jesus, I'm no saint.  And, while I'm all about nonviolent conflict resolution, turning the other cheek didn't exactly have quite the flavor of the idea I'm looking to convey, that I'm grateful for.  Lately, I've been super focused on mindful boundaries, on the precept of Do No Harm, But Take No Shit.  

Then I saw what's purportedly a quote by Confucius that seemed spot on.

Before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves.

That's more like it.  What does responding-in-anger buy me?  Not a thing.  But my anger can motivate me to do things.  It can spur me to change a habit, engage in contemplation, and be more firm in my own sense of practice.  I went looking for a good, non-smarmy-preachy graphic with that quote.

Not so much.  The vast majority of what I found was really sort of sanctimonious.  At first I opted for something plain.

Just a couple of dead people.  Nothing to see here.  Move along.

Then I decided to search for funny gravestones.  And found this:

"CONNECTION RESET BY PEER.  He came, he saw, he logged out."

I actually laughed out loud.  That is absolutely brilliant.  And led me to find more things like that here.  (I especially like Lester C. Madden's.)  Maybe you can go dig some of them, like I did.  

I feel better already.

#365Gratitude: Fail, Abort, Retry

Back in the old days, when I used to ride my dinosaur to school, uphill mind you, both ways, and use my command line ui computer, there's this thing I used to encounter, the Abort, Retry, Fail prompt.  

"Not ready reading drive A - Abort, Retry, Fail?"

Most nerds have seen this lovely little fellow.  It's the indicator that that thing you were trying to do just now (most likely getting a file off a floppy disk that wasn't inserted properly, or perhaps at all) wasn't working out, and that it's time to make a decision about it.

I know, I know... floppy disks.  So retro.

Anyhow, the reason I bring up the A. R. F. is because it's relevant in life too.  Although maybe the order's wrong.  This year I decided to explicitly not number my gratitude days, because it set up a sort of expectation roller coaster that was driving me a little batty.  I'd get behind, and rush to catch up, or goof up the count, or some such, and it would just make me pressure myself about it in a way that wasn't fun.

So I decided in 2016 that I'd ditch that altogether.  Then I got the idea to still jot them down in a handy app on my phone, just a little bit of shorthand, so that I'd capture them, still know the number really, and be able to jot them down later. 

Well, that worked just great - until the middle of March, which for one reason or another turned into a very busy, tiring month.  I dutifully jotted stuff down all right, but got so behind in actually writing the posts that my little shorthand ended up losing context for me, and I just couldn't manage to decipher what I'd meant.

Why did I fuzz out the shorthand?  Because that's kind of what reading some of the entries felt like two weeks or so after I'd written some cryptic summary for myself.

Here's the thing though.  It's really okay.  I'm not scrapping my gratitude practice at all.  No, far from it.  In fact, this whole fail at a new way of doing it, abort that process, and retry yet another way has become this sort of mega-meta-gratitude.

I forgot along the way why I started doing this practice in the first place.  The value is (go ahead, roll your eyes right along with me) in the doing of it.  It's not about completing a collection, indulging in reverie, anything like that.  All those are nice additions to the main purpose of the thing, which is to stay present and write it down.

But, that's totally okay.  In fact, it's better than okay.  This "getting off-course and finding-my-way-again" sort of stuff, this is the very essence of mindfulness.  When I am mindful, I don't really even notice it, celebrate it, or frankly, give a shit about it.  I just do.  The only time I am aware of my um, "percentage of mindfulness" is when it's less than 100% and dropping.  When that happens, it's like this little gong goes off in my head, or a little voice whispers to me:

"Psst, hey, this whatever-it-is-you're-doing-right-now, it's not working for you!" it might say.

or maybe "You're caught up in expectations about the past and the future!"

or perhaps "You're congratulating yourself instead of paying attention."

or, my least favorite, "Why don't you stop shaming yourself?  It's not necessary."

Ouch, right?

But kind of not really.  Because as soon as I hear my little voice, I laugh, gently, right along with it, and remember that this one moment, right here, right now, is the only moment, and it goes on without end for so long as I am alive.

And when that happens, I realize it's time to try again, and I'm grateful for it.

Just like now.

#365Gratitude: Toothbrush Music

The other day mako-kun, my little, made Missy laugh a lot by indulging in a little Musical Toothbrush Action while we were brushing our teeth.

Here's an example (not me) of the sort of thing I'm talking about.

Missy just laughed and laughed and laughed some more.  I love that, and love her.  There's something really special about the guileless, innocent, goofy humor my little has.  It connects me to something really good, that I don't have adequate words to describe, but love all the same.

#365Gratitude: Telefriend

I was working from home the other day when I got a call from my old friend, J.  She and I worked together several jobs ago, for about a year.

J's one of a very small number of special friends I have.  She's a work friend, and a good one, who knows all about me.

Yes, all about me.  We had been working together several months when I distinctly got the sense that we were close enough that I could share the icing parts of my cake life with her.  One day we went out for lunch, and had a nice long talk about all sorts of interesting things.

She was utterly unperturbed, even delighted to hear about the various exotic aspects of my non-work life.  

The job we both worked at was the sort of soul-eating, tiresome, pointless stuff that can drain the very life from your veins.  My friendship with J. went a long way toward making our office a place I looked forward to visiting.  We were in one another's corner, fast friends.

I ended up leaving that project, and then about a year or so later, leaving that company altogether.  

But every so often, J. and I check in with one another.  This particular day was just that sort of thing.  She called me up, and we caught up, talking about our lives, changes since we'd last spoken, new work, new side projects, our personal lives, the whole deal.  I told her how refreshing it was to have her, a good friend who I haven't seen naked, who I can talk with about my life which includes lovely people who I often do see naked. There's something great about having a friend who lives in the Clark Kent world I also occupy, while being open to hearing about my um, "Kryptonian" exploits with my superpowered friends.

We talked for over 2 hours, and they just flew by.  I'm grateful for her friendship.

#365Gratitude: I see naked people

"Pool there is amazing.  But when going through the locker room, look straight ahead, or you'll see naked people."

Lately, I've taken to using FourSquare from time to time.  It's fun, and several people I love use it.  Every so often it tosses a "tip" my way that just makes me laugh.

Like this one from when I went to the pool the other day.

I'm not too worried about seeing the naked folks though.