We could say that it’s important to make space for surprise and delight. But in all honesty, sometimes positive surprises find us first and make space within us, totally unexpectedly. Sometimes delight shows up unbidden and invites us into something more.
When was the last time you felt that way?
Whatever comes to mind, here’s a great song for it:
In the last year, they all lost their lives when ICE agents fired guns and killed them. These losses are devastating beyond words. They had so many unique, beautiful ways of being in the world — nicknames, loves, hobbies, skills, favorites, dreams, commitments — but most of us know their names because of their deaths. Those losses matter. But their lives matter all the more.
Over the last few weeks, during early voting and on Election Day, hundreds of people in Houston and Minneapolis placed their “I Voted” stickers on their memorials.
Looking up at the canopy of giant redwood trees. Wikimedia Commons. Rudydale
Recently, a treasured mentor of mine made a wise play on words. He said, “We can spend our lives seeking to build an ecosystem of relationships, or we can forfeit that vision by creating an egosystem.” That’s clever. And true.
We’re all capable of putting our energies into an egosystem. It’s not always because we’re feeling especially prideful or grandiose, though it might be. But it seems especially true when we’re acting out of insecurity — when we let jealousy overtake us, when we are petty, or when we are so fearful that someone will supplant or diminish us that we decide to spend a great deal of time trying to make others small.
First and foremost, this is a tragedy for anyone who is harmed by those actions. But it’s also a tragedy for us. We’re missing out on a better ecosystem of care, trust, belonging, and communal knowledge.
We don’t have to look far to find people exercising power through the model of an egosystem. But we are also capable of making our own lives smaller by living in similar ways.
I hope this is a challenge and an encouragement. There’s always a better invitation.
Fred Rogers and the Neighborhood Trolley. Wikimedia Commons.
Fred Rogers used to say,
“From the time you were very little, you’ve had people who have smiled you into smiling, people who have talked you into talking, sung you into singing, loved you into loving.”
Sometimes these acts of formation have come from people we expect. And throughout rour lives, these gifts also come from people who surprise us.. We continue to carry these influences.
Who still makes us smile, whether they’re with us physically or not?
Whose speech patterns, stories, and forms of expression have stayed with us?
Whose love still finds us, believes in us, encourages us, and holds us accountable?
Sometimes these influences are so internalized that we don’t even think about them. But when we do, they are worth all our gratitude.
An image of bright orange trees from a different bike ride this week.
As I write this, it’s an unseasonably warm day. Perhaps because of El Niño. Whatever the cause, these warmer days have allowed me to extend my bike riding season, and I’ve been grateful for that.
I was especially looking forward to today because the temperature has reached 73 degrees. But I kept delaying my bike ride, and then the forecast changed. It started raining. It’s a small thing, but I felt genuinely sad about it.
I think when I know that time is limited, I want to squeeze every bit of meaning I can out of it, every bit of adventure I can. I know there won’t be many more days like this before the colder weather settles in, and I want to make the most of them.
But today, I’m giving myself permission to have an utterly unremarkable day. Truth be told, we have lots of those. But I wonder how often we allow ourselves to enjoy them without feeling that we’ve missed an opportunity. What if an ordinary day isn’t something to overcome? What if we can just enjoy it for what it is?
A mentor introduced me to a quote by Alfred Brendel:
“The word ‘listen’ contains the same letters as the word ‘silent.'”
I’ve never noticed that, but indeed, it does. This mentor added, “Brendel’s observation about the words ‘listen’ and ‘silent’ is precious, especially if someone trusts you to consider their problems. A cry for help is not about you.
A colorful display of Indian dishes; Wikimedia Commons — Paridh
I walked into a local Indian restaurant, anticipating glorious scents and tastes throughout the evening. Most importantly, I anticipated seeing a good friend, and I knew she was already there. When I walked through the door, our eyes met, and she just geeked out when she saw me. Her face lit up, and she stood up to hug me. It was a lovely, big, squishy hug, and she exclaimed, “We just need more of Renee in the world!”
To be honest, we need more of my friend in the world. She’s an introvert. I’m an extrovert. And yet, she so frequently has these beautiful bursts of delight for the people around her.
We should never take for granted the people who show their delight in others. Maybe it’s a big gesture. Or maybe it’s picking up coffee for someone. Maybe it includes enthusiastic words. Maybe it’s a smile or an acknowledgment of people’s contributions.
Who has delighted in you lately? Can you thank them?
Who has given you delight lately? How might we show that — in our own way?
I’m smiling big and holding up my “I Voted” sticker.
On Saturday, I walked into my polling place and cast my vote on the very first day of early voting in my state. It felt absolutely amazing. From the moment I walked in from the parking lot to the moment I walked back out, I felt uplifted.
Though it was only the first day in a series of 11 days of early voting, there was already a steady crowd. In fact, after getting my ballot, I had to wait a bit until a voting booth became available. As I filled in the boxes next to the names of people I was choosing, I left one particular race until the end because there was a candidate I was especially excited about. I wanted to finish on that vote. And then, of course, I was delighted to get my voting sticker, which lived on my purse for a little while.
When we think about doing our civic duty, we often feel a sense of urgency, anxiety, or responsibility. All of those are valid feelings for a set of vital commitments. But I found myself thinking about my joy. Can a sense of delight be part of civic engagement as well? I hope so.
I don’t know how it’s all going to land or what kind of chaos could be on the other side. But at least for that moment, I was riding high. And I hope you might experience a feeling like that, too, whether you vote early or show up at the polls on November 3rd.