I sometimes think the world would run more smoothly if I were in charge. Or let’s face it: I often think that. Do you? 

The problem, or one problem (because there are many), with this kind of thinking is, first I have to believe I know what’s best for others. I don’t mean when that’s my job. I mean when it’s my colleague or partner or kid.

The next problem is, when I think I know what’s best, I’m judging, or pitying, the other person for not knowing…especially when they don’t follow my thinking. Which makes it hard for me to approach them with positive regard: I know what’s best, they’re not paying attention, they’d deserve my positive regard if only they were.

So one thing I’m trying to do more is, not be in charge. What a relief. It’s so relaxing. It feels good to remember that, all evidence to the contrary, everyone is just doing their best. And it feels great to take the long view, the view of not knowing, and just be with what is. 

There are people in the world who, at first glance (or second, or third), don’t seem to me to deserve positive regard. At all. Maybe there are people like that for you, too.

But in an ancient tale, five people are traveling through the forest: the leader, their beloved, a friend, a stranger, and a wicked person. The group is attacked, and one person must be sacrificed in return for safety for the rest. Whom should it be? The wicked person, if we’re being just? The leader themself, if they’re altruistic? But the answer is, no one.

Because if we sacrifice anyone, then instead of spending our energy cultivating a warm and connected heart, we have to keep in mind who’s in and who’s out. We’re in a constant process of “yes/no, yes/no,” “you but not you…,” as opposed to being in a constant process of listening, understanding, and caring.

Even when my intellect and emotional life feel like they’re in tune, I still have so many old, internal, tangles in my mind. And in any given moment, those tangles can cause me to tense up, grab hold, or turn away. 

My tangles were probably formed a long time ago. Daily practice helps me to see them more clearly, and to begin, slowly and playfully, to untangle them. Practice that’s oriented towards connecting with and generating good will for myself and everyone, feels especially helpful. 

Which means, practicing with the notion that everyone is basically the same: that everyone wants to be safe, happy, and healthy, and to live with ease. This is no big leap, really. At some level we know it’s true. But practicing with it as a notion, keeping it front and center, training the mind to remember we’re all in this together, training the heart to remember that we’re all connected? That feels like a commitment. A playful one, if we let it be, but a commitment. 

It probably won’t change the world (unless it will). But it does feel like a good way to practice, and live. 

 What happens for you when your body or mind signals that it’s time to relax, and you pay attention to the signal? From a Netflix perspective, it might be just that: turn something on; turn off all the rest. That seems legit – I do it plenty.

From a mindfulness perspective, though, relaxation is different. It’s letting go. For me, it’s a few minutes in stillness, watching thoughts, emotions, and sensations arise, and lovingly letting them go. It’s a light touch, a commitment to go easy with each moment, each thought, this wandering mind, this being called “me.” 

Relaxing the mind is the “loving” element of loving awareness. It’s rejuvenating and regenerative. It's the pause that allows wisdom and compassion to naturally arise. Best of all, it’s a sweet way to live.

I feel like we’re trying, every day, to be kind, and ethical, and to serve well. We’re even taking the time to cultivate these qualities.

And I also feel like when we fail, it’s hard. And even harder to turn towards the situation with clarity. 

What gets in the way, for me, is justification and denial. And that’s when I slide backwards. Not because my “fail” is terrible, although it might be. But because I lose sight of the positive. Forget about all the goodness. And when that happens, it’s easier to make another mistake.

So what if we pay more attention to the positive, when it shows up? Log it into our memories, our bodies (which keep the score)? My guess is that then, in those, “oh no!” moments, the recollection of goodness will act like ballast, and it’ll be easier to turn towards the moment with courage, and clarity, and compassion. And ultimately, repair any harm (to others, and to ourselves).

Pretty difficult moment, and here we are at the 4th of July. How many more of these will we celebrate?

But that’s not so much my question. My question is more about how I can do my best to be kind and to provide whatever benefit I can in a divided world. And also about how I can bring kindness to myself when I fail. 

Happy Independence Day tomorrow. See you on today’s Wake Up Call, and stay safe out there. 

In Zimbabwe, there’s almost 90% unemployment. In South Africa, there are the remnants of apartheid. America has cancelled US AID to the poorest of poor, and is about to tax a huge lifeline: money that gets sent home. Conditions on this amazing continent are not easy, to say the least.
 
And through it all, to a person, the Africans we’ve met, from so many countries on this patchwork continent, are kind and loving and generous. No matter that we come from the west, or from comparative wealth, or have privileges most Africans will never have. Or are Americans, and thus, right now, part of the problem. Still, they create safety and comfort and love, for us and for everyone around them.

As Hafiz said,   “…Look what happens with a love like that.
 It lights the whole sky.” 

I wonder about the power of generosity to  set the tone of the law, or change it.

Right now, we’re everyone to their corner and then knives out. What if we could be passionately on the sides of clients, causes, justice, but in a different way - not with a classic, take no prisoners approach, but with generosity? And with faith that the choice to do that would be seen as skillful, not weak?
 
In a way generosity seems anathema to our work. In another way it seems like a shift we desperately need. There’s no point in guessing, though. We’ll only know if we try. 

Not much can change on the global scale, or even in my community (or even in my house), if I’m not thoughtful and intentional about my own personal behavior. I know that. You probably know that, too.
 
But I’d also say, not much can change if I’m not thoughtful and intentional in a specific way: by being a little (or a lot) more generous; by committing, and making sure, that nothing I say or do will cause harm; and by taking the time, no matter how busy I am, and no matter how much the world throws at me, to train my heart and mind to be still.

Recently I said something snarky and it got back to the person.For the whole day, I dreaded what would happen. When the worst did happen, I felt even worse: a slow, painful remembering of how imperfect I am, despite all the striving. And of how perfection is not even a thing, no matter how much I strive.
 

In a funny way, dread helped me. In fact, dread was the most helpful thing. Without dread, I wonder if I’d even have noticed, let alone cared. But with dread, and after making peace with dread, which took a minute, self-compassion emerged, and then a plan. And self-compassion plus a plan feels like a decent idea for this moment.