Fathers and Forgiveness

Recently, I heard Ira Glass, who publishes This American Life on National Public Radio, speak at an auditorium in Fort Collins, Colorado. He talked about why the stories he tells are so compelling and move millions of people. In the Q-and-A portion at the end, a woman suggested a story on estranged parents. She estimated that half of the people in the room were currently or had been estranged from at least one parent and wanted to talk about why that was and how it could be remedied, if at all.

Her take was that she wanted to tell her dad what he had done to hurt her so much. Ira wasn't sure about the story, whether it would have enough of an element of surprise to make the cut. As Lacy spoke about her experience, I started to cry. It touched a soft spot, as I had just reconciled with my dad after nine years of silence.

My dad divorced my mom when I was 30 years old and my sister was 17. His inability to have a relationship with me after that, or so I interpreted his behavior, had huge ramifications on my own marriage and my ideas about men in general. I tried to create a new and different relationship with my dad, but it seemed I couldn't connect no matter what I tried. I gave up. He gave up. We stopped speaking.

My sister, who is one of my best friends, continued to have a relationship with my dad throughout the years, mostly through sheer force of will. Over time, she built a friendship not only with him, but with his second wife and my now four-year-old baby brother. I stayed in the loop that way, but was somehow comfortable with the idea that I would never see my dad again.

As my sister earned her Master's degree in psychology, she started to see things in my dad that neither she nor I had seen before. Good things. Great things, even: open-mindedness, kindness, vulnerability. He went through his own trials, including suffering with polymyalgia and losing his job. I could relate--I had dealt with my own health issues and had lost my job four years earlier. I listened to everything she had to say about him with rapt attention.

Last year, my husband left our 20-year partnership. Through several transformational events, including months of weekly psychotherapy, regular yoga practice, bicycling like mad, and meditation, I was born anew. In the difficult process of extracting my life from my husband's--physically, emotionally, intellectually, financially, and spiritually--I learned a beautiful, quiet kind of acceptance of my life and everything in it. I sold my house, moved to an apartment, and began a new career by enrolling in a non-denominational ministry program.

I went from control freak to live-and-let-live, from CPA and business consultant to energy healer. I started dating and was amazed by the big, big world out there. I even befriended my ex-husband. Life was flexible. Life was good. It was time to talk to my dad again.

One sunny Sunday morning this October, I called and asked if it was OK to go up to my dad's house in the mountains to see him and his family that day. On the drive up, I felt completely centered and at peace. I wasn't tied to any particular outcome and was content knowing that I was taking this step toward reconciliation.

Happily, the reunion was a success. I felt welcomed, loved, and loving. No one had any need to talk about blame or hurt or fault. We were all just so glad to see one another, and there were hugs all around. Champagne toasts, lots of catching up, and dinner followed. I gave my baby brother a goodnight hug. On the way home, I stopped at the top of the pass, in the complete darkness, to wonder at the sheer brilliance of millions of stars. I couldn't have been any happier at that moment.

So I wonder, how did holding on to that hurt and blame for all those years serve my highest and best good? How did my dad's fear of conflict serve him? Does it take tragedy in our own lives to learn compassion for others? Does the forgiveness process have to take years of our lives, or is there a spark that we can somehow use to light the flame in others' hearts that allows them to let go and love those who love them?

The Power of the Flirt

I have become a master flirt. The ingredients: being in the moment, being willing to take risks, and laughing along with the universe. When I think "flirt," I think: be interested in other people, make their day, and have fun.

People, I'm here to tell you that it is possible to flirt with anyone, anytime. Prime example: Sunday's trip to Whole Foods. I went to get some delicious bits for a Valentine's Day feast. Consequently, I was in an even happier mood than usual.

While walking through fruits and vegetables, I tried to catch a few people's eye. No go. I hit the seafood department and focused intently on the shrimp, thinking that this shopping trip might turn out to be an unusually non-flirty night at WF. Just out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement. I glanced over and saw that the guy at the seafood counter was looking at me. This is "flirt radar." If you want to play, you have to notice people noticing you.

I noticed dark brown eyes, a slim build, and a boy-next-door look, all in a split second. This is another skill of the flirt: taking in a lot of detail in a very short amount of time. He gazed at me and flashed a brilliant smile. Be still my beating heart. I am a sucker for a million-dollar smile. I smiled back and took the positive energy of that interaction with me through my slow wandering up and down the aisles in search of treats. Four guys met my gaze with the "Hey, what's up?" look, sometimes more than once. This is what flirts do: look, look longer, smile.

When I made it to the checkout counter, I could tell the cashier was not in a good place. This is unusual for WF employees. Normally, they let their freak flags fly and are into the groove of the moment. So I took her in: her hair, her makeup, her clothes, her nametag. I asked, "Do you have any special plans for Valentine's Day?"

"No. It's just any other day for me," she said, looking down and away. A heartbeat passed. I looked at her openly, empathetically, expectantly. "But I might take my daughter to the movies," she said. "She loves Justin Bieber movies, and there's a new one out."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" I said, smiling broadly. "That's a great Valentine's Day gift."

"And she loves strawberries," the woman said, "so I'm going to get her some before I go home tonight."

"She'll love it!" I exclaimed. By then, the transaction was done, and I looked at her--again, really looked at her--and said, "You and your daughter will have a great day." She handed me my receipt with a shy look of satisfaction. I noticed that she had tiny red hearts painted on her nails. "Oh, and look at your nails. How cute!"

She laughed a little and said, "You know, I just love to wear red. It's my favorite color. So Valentine's Day lets me do that." She held out her hand for me to examine the intricate pink, red, and white nail work she'd had done. Just another day, huh?

That's the power of the flirt.

I'm Just along for the Ride, Friend

I went on a roller-coaster ride with my 15-year-old mentee, Consuelo, this past summer--the first time in more than twenty years. Consuelo, a veteran rider, summed up the whole experience while waiting in the long, hellishly hot line: "It's like I want to go, but I don't."

"Why do you go, then?" I asked her, thinking we were maybe going to have to wind our way back through hundreds of people to get out of line. "Well, it's really exciting to think about it," she said, "but you have to close your eyes the whole time and then afterwards sometimes you feel like you're going to throw up."

This pretty well encapsulated my thoughts about dating as I wrote my first online profile. I was thrilled and terrified. Putting some version of myself online for hundreds, thousands, or hundreds of thousands of folks to see--it takes a certain amount of moxie. But, never having come up short in that category, I stepped off the wooden platform and into the tiny little cart, strapped myself in, grabbed the lap bar, and held on tight.

In one week, I've corresponded in some way or other with dozens of guys. I've read hundreds of profiles and confirmed what a single gal--who moved from Philly to "Menver"--told me: that a whole lot of guys really like their dogs, their bikes, and their snowboards. Some of these profiles are funny, some are spiritual, but most of them are simple, everyday stuff. These guys are just looking for a connection to another human being.

As a result of this process, I realized two things. First, it's hard to get a feel for someone when they sound like just like everyone else. This is the bad thing about online dating. But it has inspired me to get out my marketing copywriting brain and sell myself while still being myself. It seems to be working fairly well so far: one in-person date and three phone dates with a future date planned. One guy even told me I had a really good publicist.

Second, I don't have to close my eyes and hang on. These are just people, like me. Each one has his own quirks, and yet I find so much in common with almost all of them. As one remarkable gentleman said to me today, "The more we remove those barriers to being one, the more we remember that we were always one." Amen, brother.

I'm going along for the ride. I might hang onto the lap bar once in a while when I go around a wicked curve, but I'm also going to be one of those people who puts her hands in the air and yells with delight all the way down every hill.

How to Talk to a 14-Year-Old Girl

I spent last Friday night with my mentee, Consuelo, learning what adolescent girls are facing these days, and how to talk about it. Rosalind Wiseman spoke at Girls, Inc. on the topics of communication, bullying, and why your mom "freaks out." The event was sponsored by Dove, who has a world-wide campaign for real beauty they've been working on for some time. While I expected a lot more interaction and a lot less of the speaker talking, I got some valuable tips. And it opened some doors I didn't know how to open with a 14-year-old girl. So it was time well spent.

Here are some tips for moms and mentors that I found particularly helpful:

-Affirm her feelings.

-Don't ask a million questions.

-Ask if she's venting or wants advice.

-If she's venting, keep your trap shut.

-Don't use her slang. It's not cool.

-Ask her what she means if you don't understand.

-Share your experience without lecturing.

-Just stand there. Really. Pay attention. Listen.

-Let her make "mistakes," meaning she's not going to do it your way.

-Accept silence. People who are comfortable with each other don't need to talk constantly.

-Don't ever make fun of her (not that I would do this, but it's a good reminder).

-Apologize when you screw up. Model that good behavior.

Exercise as Meditation

It's been a while since I last posted: I've been working quite a bit and spending time on volunteer endeavors. I've also been creating space and new energy for spring, the new year, and the new decade. A piece of creating that energy is getting outside again to work in the garden and walk.

Walking in the neighborhood is convenient and quiet, which I appreciate. But I also walk on trails and in open space parks to change the scenery and listen to new bird song. No matter the location, I notice the little things, like how the bare spring branches look against the blue, blue sky. Or how tiny the purple flowers are on the ground cover that has just greened up. Or how the grumpy old man who walks with his grumpy dog twice a day, every single day seems a little less stooped when the weather turns warmer.

The robin's song is calming, while the grackle's and the red-winged blackbird's calls give me a little jolt of energy. When there is water, I tune in to the sound of it and slow down to admire a particularly fast or slow place in the stream and think about the fish that are (I hope) swimming there. Sunlight-dappled trails, stunning views of the mountains, and watching the growth of the leaves on the trees engender an intensely meditative state even while I am breathing hard and working with my hand weights.

Interestingly, what I do not like about these walks is interacting with other folks on the trail. Colorado walkers and bikers usually say hello as they pass, and I don't want to say hi back. Being an extrovert, this seems like a contradiction in my personality, but it does drive me a little mad. I am "in the zone" when I'm walking, and having to make eye contact with and greet dozens or hundreds of people takes me right out of it. I feel like I'm dating or networking at sonic speed, which is exhausting.

Exercise, for me, is meditation. I've tried to problem solve on these walks alone, and my mind is just blank. I wonder how many other people feel the same way. Perhaps we could all just say no to speed dating on the trail and instead focus on our breathing and just which shade of blue the sky is today. Would that make the time spent outside more satisfying, and more fun?

Emotionally Focused Therapy -- Breakthrough!

My sister, who is working on her master's degree in psychology, told me about a treatment modality called Emotionally Focused Therapy that is becoming more and more accepted as THE way to work with couples in counseling. I'm reading a book about it called Hold Me Tight by Dr. Sue Johnson and have gone through a couple of sessions with a counselor who uses this method. And I have to say it's pretty amazing.

The premise is that like children, adults must also have emotional attachments. The bond between adults is more reciprocal, and when it's between lovers, it's also sexual, but the point is that we're not happy unless we have deep, meaningful, emotional bonds with other adults. Until we address the underlying, most fundamental emotional connection issues, all the active listening and negotiation in the world is not going to make a happy marriage. Ding ding ding ding! Tell her which fabulous prize she's won, Bob!

This theory immediately resonated with me and spoke to everything I felt, though it went against everything I thought. I (like you?) have learned that adults need to be self-sufficient and entirely independent. It's nice if you have close relationships friends and family, but you're a bit odd and perhaps need some therapy if you *rely* on others for emotional support. And if you count on your life partner to be your best friend, lover, cheerleader, teacher, and coach, well, good luck to you. That was all of the programming I was fighting as my emotional side was saying, "Oh, finally! Yes, yes, yes! I do need someone I can count on, and I need to be the person he counts on."

Click. Lots of things just fell into place. Like why I don't really feel safe with friends who aren't there for me when I need a shoulder to cry on or someone to talk to. Like why I never have conflict with the people who are there for me--those folks are not perfect, but we quickly and successfully resolve any little trifling problems because the relationship is solid. Like why that distant, analytical, judgmental side of me never really fit somehow.

If this resonates with you, I'd encourage you to read the book Hold Me Tight. It's written for the lay person but still talks about the research behind Emotionally Focused Therapy. It guides you through several meaningful dialogues you can use with your partner (this book is geared toward the relationship between lovers, but much of it applies to anyone with whom you'd like to have a deep emotional bond). And it validates the need we have for real and reliable emotional attachment to other human beings.

An Eye for an Eye

Driving through a neighborhood last week with my sister, not too far from my house, she pointed out a bumper sticker that says, "Hatred of homosexuals is a family value." I'd like to make a bumper sticker that says, "Hate is not one of my family values."

Talking with a neighbor a couple of months ago, I learned that some neighbors were very vocal about "those people" (Latinos) moving into a house down the street. "Those people" volunteered to help us move our mountain of mulch just to be nice, by the way.

In a meeting with a few faculty members at DU, one person talked about how she cried her way through her PhD program. It's where she experienced full-fledged "body hatred" by others (the PhD students in the program) for the first time.

I am in support of the first amendment. I acknowledge that everyone is at a different point on a continuum of experience and awareness. I try to meet people where they are, and I expect them to meet me where I am.

But where's the love, for cryin' out loud? Where's the understanding, the patience, and the caring? Where's our humanity? Are we so wrapped up in ourselves and our own problems that we have not an ounce of compassion left over for anyone else? I wonder how to stop the cycle, and two of Gandhi's teachings come to mind:

An eye for an eye will only make the whole world blind.

We must become the change we want to see in the world.

And to that I say YES!

Out with the Old

I was doing some research for an article, and I ran across this blog called "stuff white people do" (written by a white guy, by the way). One post was about the casual way American's toss around the word "Nazi," as in "the soup Nazi" from Seinfeld, the "parking Nazis" who give you tickets, etc. Perhaps you have used this word in passing or in conversation. I have. And in so doing, I have cheapened it and made what the Nazis did much less horrible by comparing it to my own inconsequential problems.

How many other words do we use every day that trivialize people's pain and suffering and cover up our own bleak history of privilege? Here are a few I can think of that really have no place in our lexicon:

rape, as in "The banks are raping us with those high interest rates."

butt hurt (I have not used this one--it's new on the scene of twenty-somethings and makes my stomach flip every time I hear it), as in "She was butt hurt because he didn't call her back right away."

slave, as in "That intern will be your slave for the summer" or "I slaved over a hot stove all day."

retarded, as in "Those song lyrics are so retarded."

And don't even get me started on swear words. We live in a Christian-dominated society, yet "Jesus Christ" has become an accepted curse, even when used by Christians. Being a non-Christian, I started thinking about how my use of these words would be offensive to some of my more faithful friends and have begun retraining my brain.

Does your language reflect your respect for other people, their beliefs, and their lifestyles? Mine doesn't always, but I'm thinking about it, and trying hard to match my mouth to my mind.

More People You Meet in Your Neighborhood

I walk my little dog quite a bit because he's still a puppy and still being housetrained. We see quite a bit on our walks, Tomas and I, and the weekends are especially busy in my neighborhood. This weekend we ran across a couple of children I haven't seen before: a little boy of about five riding a Big Wheel (if they still make those) and a girl of about seven riding a scooter, the kind you have to push with your own oomph.

I walk by the little girl, who is riding her scooter back up a long stretch of a dead-end street where there is hardly traffic. She's within about half a block of home. I call "Hi!" cheerily as she approaches me. No response. She rolls past me, not making eye contact, moving toward her little brother, who is watching and waiting for her. I frown and roll my eyes behind my sunglasses. When I was a child, it was considered unutterably rude not to respond to and interact with people who addressed you in public.

Has human nature or parenting changed so much in thirty short years that children must be taught to be mortally afraid of strangers? To ignore them and even stick out their tongues as they cling to a parent's legs? I wonder how this training will affect the children's emotional intelligence, which is supposedly THE most important quality for success. I wonder how these kids will change the fabric of our society.

On the way back to the house, a gentleman in his 70s rolls his car up to the curb to chat me up about how he and his wife have a little girl Chihuahua that walks them, instead of the other way around. I laugh, and we talk about how funny it is that little dogs have so much personality. I am grateful for the human interaction. "You have a wonderful day!" he says as he pulls away. "You too!" I shout after him, smiling, feeling good and right about the world once again.

Java Jive

In the last six months, I've met people at coffee houses all over Denver. It's a running joke between Gary and me that I've been to so many Starbucks, and am intimately familiar with a few, despite the fact that I'm anti-Starbucks.

When I met someone at my favorite Peet's Coffee on the 16th Street Mall a couple of months ago, I realized that coffee shops have changed the face of business. They've given us a neutral, casual place to meet, talk, make deals, and exchange information. In the past, we either had to do a power lunch or dinner or meet in someone's stuffy office or board room.

Tradition and power are the bastions of boomers' and veterans' values. But as the Xers and Y generation have moved up in the professional world, we've made coffee houses our place of choice to change the world. This is a lesson that older, more mature cultures learned hundreds or even thousands of years ago--business conducted in a comfortable environment over a shared pleasure (hot coffee or tea or a sugar-filled delight that pretends to be coffee) builds relationships and is infinitely more fun.

So I guess Starbucks isn't that bad after all. It's a rent-free meeting room that's wired for free Internet access. No wonder the coffee costs $5.

Let's Get Back to the Basics: Communication

Today I met with the public policy liaison from the Denver Department of Human Services. She's been around government and nonprofits for a long while and so has a unique perspective on what's happening in our community.

I asked the usual informational interview questions, but I knew I had a wealth of information at my fingertips, all packaged up in this little bundle of energy. So I asked, "What do we need to be doing to move the community forward?" She talked about the major issues: homelessness, child welfare and protection, public and higher education, transportation infrastructure, and welfare reform.

But her main message was this: market effectively. She didn't say it like that, but that was it in a nutshell. The public is blissfully unaware of how human-services and other public policy issues affect our community. Coloradans are notoriously low givers in a state with a relatively high income per capita. Whose fault is that? If you want to educate and raise awareness of and funds for a cause, what do you do? MARKET THE MESSAGE EFFECTIVELY.

Too many of us in nonprofits focus on the day-to-day and putting out fires without investing in the future. How many human-services nonprofits have development staff but no marketing staff? Governments and nonprofits MUST build the marketing infrastructure to support the necessary fundraising infrastructure. If not, we'll keep serving up the same meal day after day--would you like the crisis du jour?

Completely Unscientific Research

OK, so I've spent the last week talking to various people about this male-female communication thing, and there are, as you might imagine, as many opinions as there are people. Some posit that communication is not really gender based. Hmmm... Methinks these are people who have not been subjected to much discrimination. You figure out who they are. Others say that they, like me, have suffered negative consequences for behaving and/or communicating in ways not in keeping with their gender stereotypes.

At a recent networking function, I asked a high-level executive from a certain utilities company what top three tips she could give regarding successful communication with men in the workplace:

1. Be logical. Take your audience and your thought process from Point A to Point B to Point C. (Point taken.)

2. Don't just announce a decision. Bring them into the decision-making process. Give them the space to make them think it's their idea, and then approve it. (I think you have to bring people into the decision-making process regardless of gender, but apparently she thought this was especially important with men.)

3. Limit chit-chat. If you must chit-chat, talk about what's interesting to them. (That last part is true of all audiences.)

I'll also share an idea from another wise female colleague that I've heard from other sources before. Most men are problem solvers. They immediately go into problem-solving mode when you talk to them. So, take advantage of that by saying something like, "I have a problem, and I need your advice. Could we meet for lunch this week?" The consensus is that no man will turn down a meeting with you when approached this way.

Talk this Way

I had lunch with my friend Lorraine today, and she reminded me of an invaluable, time-tested principle of communication: Learn how to talk to the other person based on his or her preferences and communication style. Otherwise, that person can't hear you.

For example, Lorraine's an I (Introvert on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator), and I'm an E (Extrovert). "I"s need time to think and process, and "E"s process and think out loud and in the moment. "We tune out half of what you say because you give us too much information," Lorraine commented. What an eye opener. Or "I" opener, as the case may be.

We were analyzing my communication with men in the business world (because we're both "T"s or Thinkers and we love to analyze) in terms of my communication preferences and those of males. And now I am on a mission to talk with men and learn some lessons about how they like to connect with each other and their female colleagues. I realize that I have a LOT to learn.

It's a wise friend indeed who helps you see an opportunity where you saw only a problem.