Even though I want to to write tonight, I also feel obligated to do so because today is the American festival of gratitude - or, really, family and food, but technically, it's about giving thanks, and that is, essentially, gratitude, which, as you know, is one of the two components of this blog title. Gratitude is like a magic tool. It's amazing how much gratitude can change a situation. Because no matter how bad the situation is, you can almost always find something to be grateful for. There's a famous book written by an Auschwitz survivor who spoke of how moved he was in the camps by witnessing the way human beings could love each other; he found ways to be grateful in a concentration camp. I mean, I'm really glad, for instance, that I don't have to go to that level of gratitude - I'm asked to find something to be grateful for in San Francisco, in the 21st century, in relative comfort and ease. It's pretty easy to do, really.
But it's also very effective. I urge you to try it. Next time you are feeling grumpy, try thinking of something that is going well, going right. Wet and cold? At least you're not lost. Wet, cold and lost? At least you're not sick. Wet, cold, lost and sick? At least you can still see and walk, as Spalding Gray would say.
I like the idea of a day in which we honor gratitude. I'm not sure that really does happen on this day, but that's the goal. It does end up being somewhat about a dinner, and I must admit here that I love the Thanksgiving meal. Some people don't - they aren't crazy about turkey, or don't like stuffing. Those people exist, but hard to believe. I love it: the stuffing, the mashed potatoes, the green bean casserole with the fried onion topping, the turkey and gravy, rolls and even cranberry sauce. I even love pumpkin pie - it's probably my favorite pie. And we make a good dinner at the M____ House. I only marginally help - I arrange the dining room (no small feat, trust me) to fit us, I peel the potatoes (this year, it was Yukon Gold, and they are harder to skin), and provide some general direction and support. My partner does all the heavy lifting: the turkey, gravy, stuffing (boxed, but still), the stuffed mushrooms, and much of the cleaning. Others helped - our one guest even mashed the potatoes, which is hard work.
It was a nice dinner. It was delicious, and I was happy to be there, with people who love me and who I love.
My insiders' view of Thanksgiving continued a little bit today with some traffic on email - it was very light, but interesting. Work, as I've mentioned, has been intense - sometimes in a good way, and sometimes in a less good way. It takes a lot my energy. When I went to go see my acupuncturist, she mentioned my qi was low, and my partner said maybe it was because my job was taking too much of my qi. It sounded like a reasonable conclusion, and I agreed with his diagnosis: it just can't go on forever. And I agree - the long days have to be curbed very soon, and I think it will happen. After the holidays.
The last few days at work have been wild; yesterday in particular was almost exquisite....challenges met and competitors bested. I had to man the front desk phones in the regional office. I lead a team of two people and either of them can man the front desk, but they were oddly both unavailable, so it fell on me. It was the day before Thanksgiving so we felt traffic to be naturally very light. It was...except the first thing that day was a call from a crazy customer. She demanded to be connected to someone right then, but I had to keep explaining to her, there were simply a few of us there. "It's our busiest day of the year," I explained. "Everyone is out in the stores."
So instead, she started to tell me her story. Her complaint, yes, but not just that; she told me about her family history, her shopping habits, her personal characteristics. She had a real issue with one person in particular (someone in store leadership that I know) and she told me her many theories about this man, his history, his personal characteristics. I'm certain if she knew about his family history, she'd have told me that too. I just listened to her.
I had many, many things to do but I listened to her for 20 minutes, and that seemed to work. She would have kept going, but I had to move on, and so I left her with promises of contacting someone else who would help her, which I did (I left messages). Later I called her back just to give her extra care and let her know I was working on it, and she started to turn all sweetness and light. "Thank you for listening to me," she said. "I appreciate that, you were nice, that makes me feel better about all of this, that was very nice of you." I thanked her; I said, I hope it all works out for you, and I'm happy you feel better. You made my holiday better - and she did. Because it's more fun, ultimately, to have a kerfuffle followed by resolution than it is just to have nothing happen. Nothing is boring. That crazy customer gave me a chance to show my quality - and even though I felt out of my depth at first, I did fine. I asked for a little guidance from a co-worker, I got some info from another about this particular customer's case (she's a repeat caller, naturally), and I handled it.
The day wrapped up - I dealt with the few things that came up - and I skedaddled out to the stores, where the action during the high holy holidays is at. I was asked to join a crew assembled at a particular store that was expecting a protest. An employee had gotten fired - and I was told why, and I agreed with the company's decision. We have a process by which people who have been fired or demoted can formally protest and have their story evaluated by a board of their peers. I've been part of this process a couple times; it's very cool, and in one case, the peer review recommended that the person be reinstated, so I know that it can work. This person whose case the protesters were coming to protest did not avail herself of this process, although I doubt she told her supporters that.
But it's a bit of a conflict for me sometimes, because I am, in general, supportive of protests. I am for protests against corporations in most cases, but it was a bit hard when it was my own - this company to which I give my time, my energy...my qi. I feel uncomfortable being on the other side of a picket-looking line (it wasn't an actual picket line, as they weren't saying "don't shop or go in," but "just be aware of this supposedly unfair firing") but I knew that they were in the wrong. This was well-meant but misguided activism. It's OK - it happens a lot. My company draws fire. I don't know why, really, but we do.
But it was great to see, somehow. We let it happen. We were there to answer questions. We were there to be supportive, to show support. I didn't have to do anything in particular, actually, other than be there. Be there and be present and hold the space and feel compassionate and talk to customers. I ended up talking to this one customer, who turned out to be a Vietnam vet.
Like the woman I'd had on the phone that morning, he had a story, and he wanted to talk. That was great. I was there to listen. He started by mentioning the protesters, but really he wanted to talk about the idea of protest in general. "I'm proud of these kids for doing something," he gestured at them. "But I also shop this store, and I like this store, and I believe in this too, and so it's OK, you can do both."
He went on to tell me how important vigorous public debate is in this country. Talk turned quickly to Occupy Wall Street. He was for this. It was good to see it happening. He couldn't do so much anymore - he gestured to his cane (he just turned 65) - but he was glad to see this happening. It was like the civil rights movement, he said, what's going on now. And the more they crush us, the more we will rise up. He told me how even though it was horrible about those people getting pepper-sprayed (the old ladies and the students - there have been several horrible, utterly unjustified incidents lately), it had to happen, because that is how you know you're on the right track. It would bring us together, and that is what we needed.
We talked a while, and I mostly listened. I nodded when I agreed, which was a lot. At one point, he almost made me cry, because he was just saying everything wonderful and right. He was just this guy, and he was full of heart and wisdom. He thanked me for being there. I had told him a few things about why I believed in my company, and he thanked me for that. He shook my hand, and he kept my hand. We bonded. I recalled how good customer service, true service can be.
It made me think of what Matthew and Terces Englehart, the founders of Cafe Gratitude, said at the workshop on sacred commerce I attended: everyone, they said, is always saying, one of two things: "please love me," or "I am loved." You can boil down any action, statement, gesture, to its core emotion, which would be either asking for or expressing love.
It also made me think of what Kurt Vonnegut wrote in Sirens of Titan: there are there little harmoniums, these fictional creatures, that emit light and cling to the walls of the caves on Mercury, and they can only say two things, which they say over and over, and that is: "Here I am, here I am" and "So glad you are, so glad you are."
And really, that is the only thing we are every saying to each other. The crazy woman on the phone was saying "Here I am" and she wanted to hear me say "So glad you are." Once I did that, it was all unicorns and rainbows. The protesters were saying "Here I am" and my company, rather than meeting them with harsh condemnation, said, basically, "So glad you are." Because I was glad, in truth. Even misguided, at least they were active. They believed. In the end, I realized the conflict was only apparent, but not actual.
Earlier, I asked the head of HR, who was also going to the store to support them in case of protest, who the group was. Why, she wanted to know. I might know them, I said. Why, she said? Because I run in those circles, I said. I am more liberal than you can imagine, I explained. Her expression seemed to ask how do I do it, so I answered: I straddle the line between us and them. Because I don't believe in the line. There's no us and them - there's only us. In the whole world, there is no them.
That seems to be the theme these days, and I wonder if it's my increasing sense of connection that is contributing to my happiness, for, busy as I am, I am happy these days. I know it's all a mess. I know there's way too much war, poverty, pollution, disease, and so on. I know. But I seem to be able to be happy anyway. Maybe it's being grateful for what is beautiful and good, despite the ills and hurts.
But it's also very effective. I urge you to try it. Next time you are feeling grumpy, try thinking of something that is going well, going right. Wet and cold? At least you're not lost. Wet, cold and lost? At least you're not sick. Wet, cold, lost and sick? At least you can still see and walk, as Spalding Gray would say.
I like the idea of a day in which we honor gratitude. I'm not sure that really does happen on this day, but that's the goal. It does end up being somewhat about a dinner, and I must admit here that I love the Thanksgiving meal. Some people don't - they aren't crazy about turkey, or don't like stuffing. Those people exist, but hard to believe. I love it: the stuffing, the mashed potatoes, the green bean casserole with the fried onion topping, the turkey and gravy, rolls and even cranberry sauce. I even love pumpkin pie - it's probably my favorite pie. And we make a good dinner at the M____ House. I only marginally help - I arrange the dining room (no small feat, trust me) to fit us, I peel the potatoes (this year, it was Yukon Gold, and they are harder to skin), and provide some general direction and support. My partner does all the heavy lifting: the turkey, gravy, stuffing (boxed, but still), the stuffed mushrooms, and much of the cleaning. Others helped - our one guest even mashed the potatoes, which is hard work.
It was a nice dinner. It was delicious, and I was happy to be there, with people who love me and who I love.
My insiders' view of Thanksgiving continued a little bit today with some traffic on email - it was very light, but interesting. Work, as I've mentioned, has been intense - sometimes in a good way, and sometimes in a less good way. It takes a lot my energy. When I went to go see my acupuncturist, she mentioned my qi was low, and my partner said maybe it was because my job was taking too much of my qi. It sounded like a reasonable conclusion, and I agreed with his diagnosis: it just can't go on forever. And I agree - the long days have to be curbed very soon, and I think it will happen. After the holidays.
The last few days at work have been wild; yesterday in particular was almost exquisite....challenges met and competitors bested. I had to man the front desk phones in the regional office. I lead a team of two people and either of them can man the front desk, but they were oddly both unavailable, so it fell on me. It was the day before Thanksgiving so we felt traffic to be naturally very light. It was...except the first thing that day was a call from a crazy customer. She demanded to be connected to someone right then, but I had to keep explaining to her, there were simply a few of us there. "It's our busiest day of the year," I explained. "Everyone is out in the stores."
So instead, she started to tell me her story. Her complaint, yes, but not just that; she told me about her family history, her shopping habits, her personal characteristics. She had a real issue with one person in particular (someone in store leadership that I know) and she told me her many theories about this man, his history, his personal characteristics. I'm certain if she knew about his family history, she'd have told me that too. I just listened to her.
I had many, many things to do but I listened to her for 20 minutes, and that seemed to work. She would have kept going, but I had to move on, and so I left her with promises of contacting someone else who would help her, which I did (I left messages). Later I called her back just to give her extra care and let her know I was working on it, and she started to turn all sweetness and light. "Thank you for listening to me," she said. "I appreciate that, you were nice, that makes me feel better about all of this, that was very nice of you." I thanked her; I said, I hope it all works out for you, and I'm happy you feel better. You made my holiday better - and she did. Because it's more fun, ultimately, to have a kerfuffle followed by resolution than it is just to have nothing happen. Nothing is boring. That crazy customer gave me a chance to show my quality - and even though I felt out of my depth at first, I did fine. I asked for a little guidance from a co-worker, I got some info from another about this particular customer's case (she's a repeat caller, naturally), and I handled it.
The day wrapped up - I dealt with the few things that came up - and I skedaddled out to the stores, where the action during the high holy holidays is at. I was asked to join a crew assembled at a particular store that was expecting a protest. An employee had gotten fired - and I was told why, and I agreed with the company's decision. We have a process by which people who have been fired or demoted can formally protest and have their story evaluated by a board of their peers. I've been part of this process a couple times; it's very cool, and in one case, the peer review recommended that the person be reinstated, so I know that it can work. This person whose case the protesters were coming to protest did not avail herself of this process, although I doubt she told her supporters that.
But it's a bit of a conflict for me sometimes, because I am, in general, supportive of protests. I am for protests against corporations in most cases, but it was a bit hard when it was my own - this company to which I give my time, my energy...my qi. I feel uncomfortable being on the other side of a picket-looking line (it wasn't an actual picket line, as they weren't saying "don't shop or go in," but "just be aware of this supposedly unfair firing") but I knew that they were in the wrong. This was well-meant but misguided activism. It's OK - it happens a lot. My company draws fire. I don't know why, really, but we do.
But it was great to see, somehow. We let it happen. We were there to answer questions. We were there to be supportive, to show support. I didn't have to do anything in particular, actually, other than be there. Be there and be present and hold the space and feel compassionate and talk to customers. I ended up talking to this one customer, who turned out to be a Vietnam vet.
Like the woman I'd had on the phone that morning, he had a story, and he wanted to talk. That was great. I was there to listen. He started by mentioning the protesters, but really he wanted to talk about the idea of protest in general. "I'm proud of these kids for doing something," he gestured at them. "But I also shop this store, and I like this store, and I believe in this too, and so it's OK, you can do both."
He went on to tell me how important vigorous public debate is in this country. Talk turned quickly to Occupy Wall Street. He was for this. It was good to see it happening. He couldn't do so much anymore - he gestured to his cane (he just turned 65) - but he was glad to see this happening. It was like the civil rights movement, he said, what's going on now. And the more they crush us, the more we will rise up. He told me how even though it was horrible about those people getting pepper-sprayed (the old ladies and the students - there have been several horrible, utterly unjustified incidents lately), it had to happen, because that is how you know you're on the right track. It would bring us together, and that is what we needed.
We talked a while, and I mostly listened. I nodded when I agreed, which was a lot. At one point, he almost made me cry, because he was just saying everything wonderful and right. He was just this guy, and he was full of heart and wisdom. He thanked me for being there. I had told him a few things about why I believed in my company, and he thanked me for that. He shook my hand, and he kept my hand. We bonded. I recalled how good customer service, true service can be.
It made me think of what Matthew and Terces Englehart, the founders of Cafe Gratitude, said at the workshop on sacred commerce I attended: everyone, they said, is always saying, one of two things: "please love me," or "I am loved." You can boil down any action, statement, gesture, to its core emotion, which would be either asking for or expressing love.
It also made me think of what Kurt Vonnegut wrote in Sirens of Titan: there are there little harmoniums, these fictional creatures, that emit light and cling to the walls of the caves on Mercury, and they can only say two things, which they say over and over, and that is: "Here I am, here I am" and "So glad you are, so glad you are."
And really, that is the only thing we are every saying to each other. The crazy woman on the phone was saying "Here I am" and she wanted to hear me say "So glad you are." Once I did that, it was all unicorns and rainbows. The protesters were saying "Here I am" and my company, rather than meeting them with harsh condemnation, said, basically, "So glad you are." Because I was glad, in truth. Even misguided, at least they were active. They believed. In the end, I realized the conflict was only apparent, but not actual.
Earlier, I asked the head of HR, who was also going to the store to support them in case of protest, who the group was. Why, she wanted to know. I might know them, I said. Why, she said? Because I run in those circles, I said. I am more liberal than you can imagine, I explained. Her expression seemed to ask how do I do it, so I answered: I straddle the line between us and them. Because I don't believe in the line. There's no us and them - there's only us. In the whole world, there is no them.
That seems to be the theme these days, and I wonder if it's my increasing sense of connection that is contributing to my happiness, for, busy as I am, I am happy these days. I know it's all a mess. I know there's way too much war, poverty, pollution, disease, and so on. I know. But I seem to be able to be happy anyway. Maybe it's being grateful for what is beautiful and good, despite the ills and hurts.
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