The Values Gals

BE your values

i wanted to include this video interlude from the Boys & Girls Clubs of America campaign, Be Great, because it reminds me to BE all the positive and juicy ways i aspire to be. i can think about my values and talk about them, but to BE my values, that is the sweet spot. that is where my life takes a leap towards being the best possible life. i hope this inspires us all to BE compassionate, BE love, BE accountable, BE courageous, BE happy, BE grateful... to BE our best selves.

to BEing--liz

 

as goes compassion for animals, so goes compassion for humans

this weekend, as we drove through a shopping center parking lot we spotted a kitten who had been struck by a car and was lying wounded in the road. it appeared that it was badly wounded and suffering. we raced to park the car and sprinted into petsmart to see if we could get help for the poor animal. i observed that people walking by the kitten paid it no attention. no one was rushing to help it. the first 2 employees in petsmart i asked for help said they couldn't help and couldn't even leave the store to go perhaps 100 feet to help an animal in distress. the vet tech on duty there, while he couldn't leave as he was the only one to cover the clinic, was kind enough to give us a box and some towels to collect the kitten so we could bring it to him for either help or putting it out of its misery. we ran with the box to the kitten. who was now dead.

when i saw the head wound up close, i was relieved the kitten was no longer suffering but i was heartbroken thinking of the pain it had been in and that it died alone. what sickened me most was the complete lack of compassion i observed towards this poor creature who clearly needed help.

i know animal owners who leave their pets outside always--in extreme temperatures and in scary violent weather--and never really integrate them into their families. speaking as a dog mommy for 11 years, i know that these little souls can be the hugest gifts in our lives. given some love and compassion, these dear dependent creatures just want to connect with us in their way and love us. how is it that we can turn away, particularly when another heartbeat needs our love, our comfort, our compassion?

granted, i can understand that if our basic needs are not being met, we may feel we have nothing to spare to share with a dependent animal. but i also see dogs faithfully walking with homeless street people--clearly they have adopted one another.

it saddens me to see more and more evidence that our culture treats animals so coldly, inhumanely. family pets are abandoned, animals are tortured by the more cruel among us, dogs are pitted against each other for fighting prize money, pets are beaten, neglected, abused, and let's not even get me started on industrial animal farms where chickens, pigs, cattle are packed into unhealthy and unnatural environments, pumped full of drugs, force fed unnatural feed. i grieve for them. and simultaneously i grieve for what the cultural lack of compassion does to us as a society and as individuals. are we growing more innured to cruelty or worse, accepting of it? if we have no compassion for animals, do we lose compassion for people as well? there is certainly no shortage of cruelty among our fellow humans.

i think it's a slippery slope. when we choose not to be compassionate towards another being who needs it, then it's easier to turn away the next time.

as with anything we want to fortify or strengthen, it takes conscious and diligent practice. choosing to act in a compassionate manner on a daily basis.

do you consciously practice compassion? how important is compassion to you?

liz

Another Dose of Perspective

I attended a funeral last weekend. It was for the mother of a friend of my daughter’s. I knew the woman as well – not well, but we had children in the same grade and involved in the same activities so our paths crossed many times. My impression of her was that she was a very nice person. Attending the funeral of someone you are acquainted with but don’t really know that well, you learn much more about the kind of person s/he was and I usually tend to leave thinking I wish I had known him/her better. But you do know more about people than you realize if you stop and think about it. Besides nice I knew she was a caring and encouraging mother – you can tell that kind of thing from watching her children. And she was courageous. She had ALS – Lou Gehrig’s disease – and it takes unimaginable courage to be able to face every day knowing how that story will end. 

Funerals are strange events – they are celebrations of the lives of people who have died so one moment you’re laughing at an anecdote told by a friend or relative and the next you’re crying thinking about this wonderful family – children having to live without their mother, a husband without his wife. You see people you know and people you don’t all there to pay respects, to offer support, to show they care, to say goodbye. Everyone there is joined together by this person – their having been a friend, acquaintance, family member, coworker, neighbor, fellow church member and more has brought all of these people together – people who may hold very similar or vastly different beliefs from one another from religion to politics to parenting to financial planning. Nothing matters on this day, though, except the woman whose life we are all there to honor.

Many relatives and friends spoke of Jennifer and they all had wonderful stories to tell and their love and admiration for her came through in their words. I believe it was her brother who told a story that really made an impression on me. He mentioned a time many, many years ago after a night out on the town when Jen came home and noticed her stockings were ripped. Her response: “Bummer”. Then, just a few years ago, after she was diagnosed with ALS her reaction was the same – “Bummer” she had said. Just about everyone who spoke said Jen never once complained. She faced her condition with courage and acceptance. She didn’t ask “why me”, she didn’t complain, she didn’t feel sorry for herself. I felt ashamed thinking about my own reactions to things that hadn’t gone as I had wanted recently – the anger, frustration or upset I felt over things simply just not going as I had hoped .

Perspective is a difficult thing to keep. We live in our little worlds and we determine if it was a good day or bad day based on whether things went “according to plan” or how we wanted them to go. Jen's last few years most definitely were not “according to plan” yet from what I understood she didn’t speak of “bad days”. I saw her at Back-to-School nights, plays, fundraisers, 5K races and out shopping. She didn’t let her disease or the challenges of getting around keep her from missing what she wanted to see, what she wanted to do. I looked out the window one weekend morning and saw her “taking a walk” in our end of the court. She got out on her electric wheelchair and enjoyed the outdoors when it was a nice day.

The questions I asked myself later were questions I’ve asked myself before: Why is it that it takes death or tragedy or a sad loss of some sort to get people to put aside all their opinions, biases, views and beliefs and come together? Why is it that it takes a profound sadness to give us a dose of perspective? Our best selves come out in sad, tragic times. The latent compassion, sympathy, kindness, empathy, selflessness and tolerance spring forth from hibernation. Why is it that these values aren’t ever-present? Why is that we can’t stop and think about how great we have it in comparison to many without having an actual bad thing occur to give us that comparison? Why is it that we hone in on the differences that exist between “us” and “them” and allow those differences to forge a greater chasm between us as opposed to finding the common ground we share and using that as a starting point for coming together?

I never am able to answer those questions. I think that our best selves will continue to shine through in moments of strife, challenge and sadness for that is just a natural emotional response – we see suffering and we want to help, we want to do something, we want to somehow make things better in whatever way we can. And that’s not a bad thing, that’s a very good thing. I just wonder if there is some way – some magical thing that can be done to cause those better selves to emerge on a more regular basis. It’s a natural tendency to be in our little worlds and assess how things are going compared to how we want them to be going. It’s difficult to remember when you are upset about not getting to see your best friend because schedules changed and timing was no longer going to work out, that somewhere someone isn’t getting to see their best friend because they are no longer here on this Earth. It was when one of Jen’s closest friends spoke at her funeral that I cried the most. Listening to her speak of her close friend – of their times at the beach, their sharing drinks, going to lunch, talking about life, laughing together – I felt her pain very profoundly. I had just been lamenting, childishly now I realize, just a day earlier, of not getting to see someone I wanted to see. I was angry, frustrated, saddened by plans and schedules that had, once again, changed. I know these are natural feelings to have when you care for someone and are missing them but listening to this woman speak I was reminded that I am beyond fortunate. She will never get to see, talk with or touch her friend again. No matter how patient she is that won’t happen. I was slapped hard with some perspective listening to her words. How dare I let myself get mired in frustration, anger and sadness? What I felt is nothing compared to the broken heart I’d have if I could never see, talk to or touch my friend again. So as I listened to her I vowed to focus on being more grateful for whatever time I have with those I love, to be patient when things aren’t happening at the pace I want them to, to be more understanding and accepting when things don’t go according to plan. I may not succeed in all of those efforts but I will try. Rest in peace, Jen. And thank you. –AMB

owning it in good times and bad

being accountable to ourselves and to others requires that we own it when we earn gratitude just as much as when we don't deliver as promised. i had technical difficulties on a project recently that yielded results that were not what i had hoped. it has me quite upset actually. indeed, during the first 30 minutes of realizing the issue and feeling at a loss as to how to solve it, i had a fleeting thought of what it would mean to bag the whole thing. not an acceptable option of course. with much mental agitation going over and over what might make sense as a solution i hit upon a fix. not perhaps the best one but one that got me through the project without it being a total wash.

while this kind of experience is something we can probably all tell war stories about, being in it and then sorting it out with our client is not fun. and yet i feel there is more wrapped up in this episode than owning it. staying with it until i worked the problem out was critical. it is sometimes tempting to think we can fake our way through some challenge and pick up the pieces later. but that is the worst kind of failure--to the recipient of what we are entrusted to deliver and to ourselves. instead, figuring a workaround and salvaging what we can may produce less than optimal results but at least there are results.

being accountable and owning it means taking responsibility not just for the outcome but for being in it every step of the way. the best laid plans can go awry. the best we can do is stay with it and work to get it back on course. or to find a new course midstream that will get us where we need to be. so, in my case, while i'm not delighted with the results, i am keenly grateful i have results to share.

liz

 

The Greatest Gifts

My son just celebrated his 16^th birthday. Those 16 years flew by. We parent-types always say those kinds of things but it sure feels true. From the moment children start walking they begin taking steps away from us. And as they become more and more independent we become less and less influential - or at least less directly influential. When children are toddlers and they make the wrong choice – say to play with an electrical outlet (which looks like one of the least interesting things to play with if you ask me, however they sure are magnets for the crawling and newly walking set) – we pick them up and remove them from that danger. Those days of being able to literally catch them before they fall are gone. They are not under our ever-watchful eyes when they are 16 – and in a few months that will really be true once he gets his driver’s license.

A couple of days before our son’s birthday we drove home with a new-used truck that will be “his”. We swore we wouldn’t be those parents who bought their kid a car for their birthday but a third car will be needed when he gets his license and we wanted to ensure he had those few months of supervised driving time in whatever was going to be the main vehicle he drove. As a parent I worry about giving my children too much. It’s a nice concern to have considering there are parents out there wondering how to make ends meet much less buy their children birthday gifts of any sort. No doubt our children are fortunate but I think – I hope anyway – that the reason they feel fortunate is not so much because of the things they have but because of the real gifts they’ve been given over the years. I think – and again, hope – they are grateful for the material things they have been given or enjoy yet recognize that if all of those things were gone tomorrow they wouldn’t have lost everything – that everything of the most value still remains with them.

If you asked kids what was the greatest gift they’ve ever been given you’d probably get answers like “a new car”, “a video game system”, “a bike”, “a television”. Something that was “a big deal” to them would probably be the response. But I see the greatest gifts we given our children in every photo I’ve ever taken. I have captured happiness, surprise, joy, gratitude, pride, kindness, compassion, love and more in these images. I also see these things in their everyday actions. I may not always see overt, grandiose gestures that tell me my children are responsible, caring, grateful, civil, kind and respectful but I see all of these things – and a good bit of the time. I know that the example I’ve set, the parenting I’ve done has contributed greatly to their being who they are. I can’t take all the credit but I know it’s something that has helped mold them into the little people they are.

What I’ve always wanted for my children is for them to connect with what is important and to know what real feeling, real meaning is. My son was happy when his dad drove up in the truck – he was surprised and appreciative. But it’s nothing compared to the way I saw him look at the sunset and sky one night as we were driving to some locale south of us for a vacation. I had turned to look out the window and saw a beautiful sky and when I turned around to tell the kids to look he was already looking. He said “I know. I’ve been watching it. It’s really beautiful.” He was 13 or 14 at the time. That look and the ones I’ve seen on him when he has been looking at something truly amazing and beautiful and natural show me that he gets the difference between a thing, like a car, and something real and special and worthy of staring at for a while.

Money can buy you some pretty great stuff – stuff that makes life easier or more entertaining at times or more comfortable but in the end it’s just stuff. There’s nothing wrong with having stuff and enjoying it. I hope my kids have all the “stuff” they want one day but when I think about what I want for my children it’s not stuff. I don’t wish for my children to have big houses and fancy cars; to take lavish vacations or have all the latest technology gadgets. I wish for them to fall in love and know passion like they could have never imagined; to feel compassion for others such that they want to do something to ease the struggles they see; to laugh openly and heartily every day; to have a few very good, very close friendships – people you’d do anything for;  to appreciate their surroundings – to see or find the beauty that surrounds them wherever they are; to take chances to achieve something that they want; to have an awareness – to notice and pay attention so that they can continuously learn, connect and be in moments rather than just passing through their days; to truly feel – gratitude, empathy – even  grief and sadness for those come when we’ve lost what we’ve loved, cared for and appreciated. To know that “the good life” comes more from within; it comes from shared or meaningful experiences.

I have to admit that it felt kind of indulgent to purchase him this truck but as I pondered the decision I also felt that it wasn’t going to change him, that we’ve set a pretty good foundation for him in terms of knowing what’s important, what should really be appreciated - that it’s the sunsets in life that really matter, not what you’re driving when you see them. I think he’ll keep appreciating those sunsets – I’ll just have to remind him to pull over to do so now. --AMB

accountability to self

with a lot of my friends and family who live farther away, we check in periodically and catch up. it is always on my mind to reach out and reconnect within a somewhat regular timeframe. it is important to me to stay connected with those i care about, even if it's not as frequent as i want it to be. i still want them to know i am thinking about them and care about them and wish to keep our ties current.

and then i thought about how often i check in with myself. granted, i am daily aware of what is going on with me, what i may be processing, dreaming of, aiming towards, prioritizing, etc. but do i check in with myself on how i am treating myself? for example, am i following through on my intention to take a short trip every other month just to get a change of scene? am i booking myself at least 3 days a month to pursue my personal projects? am i taking the same kind of care of myself that i would advocate my friends and family do?

seems as though when i look closely at how i am in nurturing my relationship with myself--largely with regard to accountability and following through on promises and intentions i have set for myself in the best interest of my well-being--i fall short. do i feel i can take it, so to speak? there's some truth to that. also, i can say life gets in the way. but the thing is, i am my life. and my choices are my life. and if i am shortchanging myself, it stands to reason i would shortchange other areas of my life, other people in my life.

checking in with myself, even just a cursory glance, has been revealing. shining light on areas where i don't diligently pursue what is most important to me.

always good to shine the light back on ourselves and see where it is we have opportunity to recharge. where is our accountability to our selves spreading thin? when we shore up our accountability to ourself, our accountability to others becomes recharged as well.

liz