Tag Archives: caring

Simple little things

A happy thought,
A quiet walk,
A restful pause,
A candid talk.

A social night,
A laugh out loud,
A mutual friend,
A gap in the crowd.

A good book,
A favourite meal,
A restful nap,
A bargain deal.

Simple little things
that come our way.
Simple little things
that make our day.

We can appreciate
what we’ve got.
We can be happy
with our lot.

As long as we
are aware,
that we really
needn’t care…

About things we lack,
and things we dread.
And avoid negative thoughts
in our heads.

As long as we
are aware,
that we really
should care…

About the people we love,
and people in need.
About doing what’s right,
and doing good deeds.

Simple little things
that help us cope.
Simple little things
that bring us hope.

Appreciate the little things
that come our way.
And remember to cherish
each and every day.

The best gifts we have
are love and time.
A life well lived
is truly sublime.

Life need not be filled
with accolades and aclaim,
It need not be a life of
excessive wealth and fame.

What makes us rich are
the simple little things,
that bring us joy
and make our hearts sing.

Simple little things.

Left unsaid

I was having a conversation with my daughter yesterday and I mentioned a podcast I was listening to with Dr. Daniel Amen. The point I shared with her was how Dr. Amen talks about killing ANTs… Automatic Negative Thoughts. My daughter liked that idea and added something she has been working on, which is, “Don’t let a positive thought go unsaid.”

I really like this idea and think I’m going to work on the same.

How often do we complain about bad customer service, but we just appreciate good customer service, yet leave those thoughts unsaid?

How often do we get frustrated with a loved one or a coworker who doesn’t do what we expect them to do, but don’t really value them when they do a little extra?

How often do we focus on ANTs, but leave our positive thoughts unsaid?

Assuming the worst

It’s reactive rather than thoughtful. It amazes me how many issues today are immediately an 11 on a scale of 1-10. Let’s just bypass the normal scale and make the issue beyond the norm.

There is no room for ‘ooops’. There is no opportunity to reduce the conflict or issue, it’s just a direct inflation to anger and upset. Retribution trumps resolution. The disagreement itself is an offence and the only solution is complete surrender, full admittance of wrongdoing, no opportunity for negotiation or mutual understanding.

People don’t interact with other people perfectly. Communication is an imperfect art. But interactions get worse when the worst interpretations are assumed. When there is an immediate high voltage response to an issue, the conversation continues to stay charged longer than it needs to. Sparks fly, and no one comes out un-singed.

It’s reactive rather than thoughtful. It is a jump to the worst conclusions. And it leads to no one coming out unscathed, unhurt, or even feeling like the resolution was rewarding.

How much could this change if we believed everyone was doing the best they could? If we chose to assume the best? If we started from a place of compassion rather than getting ramped up? If this is where we started I think, I know, a lot of situations would escalate to a 3/10, and never get to an 11/10.

Wouldn’t that be a better place to start?

Kindness really matters

I wrote about a kind act yesterday, and today I got this image as a Facebook memory:

I believe that kindness can be contagious, it can become memidemic (my word for a positive epidemic). Kindness resonates, it has a frequency that when put out in the world will be picked up by others nearby. Just like a tuning fork of the same frequency will start to vibrate if another tuning fork, similarly tuned, is vibrating nearby, so too does kindness resonate.

Choose kindness today. Even if the kindness is not returned, know that it will resonate and you will be contributing in making the world a better place.

Crossing the street for you

Going back 25 years ago, I was in teacher’s college and did almost every project with two friends I met in the program, Andrew and JP. I was literally sandwiched between them sitting at 5’9 when both of the are well over 6’… and JP was the presentation opener, with a wicked sense of humour, while Andrew was the closer with intelligent and relevant ties to the curriculum and reading, all of which he had always done. So, once again I was stuck (comfortably) in the middle.

One day we were having lunch and planning an upcoming presentation when JP said, out of the blue, “Dave, I’d cross the street for you.”

“What?”

“Some people you see walking on the opposite side of the street, and you wave at them as they go by. And some people you take the time to cross the street and greet them. I’d cross the street for you.”

That’s a fond memory about friendship that I thought of this morning. There are probably a lot of quotes like the following but I’m on an airplane without wifi so I’ll take liberty to word a common idea and try to put my own twist on it:

It’s easy to be a good friend when times are easy, it’s a true friendship when times are hard and yet helping your friend out is not hard.

That’s the measure. It’s not about it being hard for you… if the friend is going through hard times you aren’t holding up a measuring stick to see how hard it is to help. There is a willingness to go to hard places without quantifying the effort… the friend is worth it.

You aren’t just crossing the street for them, you are going back the other way just to be with them.

Subtle regret

It’s a price I pay as an educator. It doesn’t matter how many positive things happen in a school year, I always feel a little regret at the end of the year. I wanted the year to be more. I wanted it to be better. I wanted to make a greater contribution. I wanted to have more impact.

Twenty five years into my career, and I’ve felt this every year. This year it stings a bit more because my health issues made me miss a lot of school. But I also know this is just me being hard on myself. I know that if things were 100 percent better and I hit every goal I had, I would still feel subtle regret that I didn’t set my targets high enough.

Yesterday a grad came by with flowers, and a card, and a card from their parent. Both cards shared thanks for four amazing years in a school that gave them an opportunity that they felt they couldn’t get anywhere else. That’s heartwarming. And yet this morning I’m lamenting about what else could have been done.

This isn’t me feeling depressed. This isn’t me fishing for compliments. It’s me wondering who else feels this at the end of the school year?

In reality, I don’t want this ‘subtle’ feeling to go away, (that said I also don’t want it to be more pronounced). I actually want this small feeling at this time of year. It doesn’t sadden me as much as it drives me. It makes me think a bit about the potential of next year. It fuels me and inspires me to think bigger, to be excited about what’s possible. It’s kind of like the feeling of coming in second in a competition, you aren’t thrilled, but you had a god season, and now you are excited about next season.

Maybe it’s possible to garner that excitement without the subtle regret? Maybe it could happen where you feel like you won the season and you want to create back-to-back winning seasons? Perhaps that’s possible. But unlike a sports season, a school year doesn’t have a trophy, and there are always things about the year that could have been better.

So, I’ll take the subtle regret. It won’t make me sad, but it will make me want to make next year better… and I really believe it will be.

You don’t know

One of the challenges of being an educator… Sometimes you don’t know.

You don’t know that the way you say something triggers a kid.

You don’t know that a kid missed breakfast, or that they didn’t have anything in the house they could have for breakfast.

You don’t know that after school they have to fend for themselves, and maybe a younger sibling too.

You don’t know how abusive a parent is.

You don’t know how stupid a kid feels.

You don’t know how crippling perfectionism is.

You don’t know the root cause of misbehaviour.

You don’t know the bullying was happening until it went too far.

You don’t know how important your validation is.

You don’t know how hard the learning challenges really are.

You don’t know that the distracted kids really wants to pay attention but the distractions are too loud in their heads.

Sometimes you don’t know what you needed to know about a kid to be a better teacher for them.

Ah, but then sometimes you don’t know…

How appreciated you are. How much you are looked up to. How valuable your connection is to a kid for whom you are the only caring adult that listens to them.

Sometimes you don’t know that the joke you shared in class was the only smile a kid had that day. That you make a kid feel smart. That you are the only person to give a kid a 4th chance because life isn’t baseball and no kid deserves only 3 strikes.

Sometimes you don’t know how valuable you are to the kids, the families, and the community you serve.

Amazing Support

Isn’t it strange how we take the people around us for granted sometimes? It’s not intentional or hurtful. It’s not that we are taking advantage of them. We simply don’t recognize how the people around us support us, lift us up, nurture us, look out for us, and most importantly care for us. They are just there, doing what they do as a part of our work or family, and they make us better, make our jobs easier, and show kindness when we need it.

Remember to show your appreciation once in a while. Not because they went out of their way to support you… rather, just for consistently being there.

A shoulder to cry on

This quote is worth sharing. It comes from one of the toughest guys in the mixed martial arts arena right now, Paddy Pimblett:

“There’s a stigma in the world that men can’t talk. Listen, if you are a man and you’ve got weight on your shoulders, and you think the only way you can solve this is by killing yourself, please speak to someone, speak to anyone…

I know I’d rather my mate cry on my shoulder, than go to his funeral next week.

So please, let’s get rid of this stigma, and men start talking.”

My thoughts on suicide are not something I share often, but for me there are two major losses: The obvious one is the death of the person who takes their own life. The second is the loss of living for those left behind… no one survives a suicide, because a small part of those left behind also dies. Guilt, blame, anger, and sadness do not fade easily, and while loved ones survive losing someone to suicide, a part of them dies with the person. In this way, I see suicide as very selfish. The person doesn’t just kill themselves, they kill a small part of everyone they leave behind.

It seems so senseless, and it is preventable. The challenge is that prevention doesn’t always start with those who will be left behind, it often needs to start with the person contemplating suicide reaching out.

I don’t pretend I have answers, and I don’t pretend to know what I’d say to make things better. But I know that talking to someone helps and I for one am willing to listen. Even if all this leads to is talking to someone else that has the knowledge and training to help…

I know I’d rather my mate cry on my shoulder, than go to his funeral next week.

Do it for yourself

A simple challenge:

Do something nice for someone today. I’m going to buy my secretaries a coffee. What are you going to do? It doesn’t have to be anything that costs money.

Leave a note in a love one’s lunch for them to find. (I think I’ll do this too.)

Spend a little extra time with your pet. (I say this with my cat purring on my lap.)

Tell someone you appreciate them in some way.

Call a friend you haven’t spoken to in a while.

Here’s the thing, it’s a nice gesture that will make someone else feel good… but it will make you feel good too. Do it for the other person, but know that you are doing it for yourself too (and that’s ok, enjoy the good feelings you get).