Just Say "Thank You"

Have you ever said something to someone with the intention of building them up, only to get sucker punched?  Not literally, of course, but verbally.  Have you ever sucker punched someone for saying something nice to you?  I have both received and dealt this proverbial sucker punch.  And it has led me to a new resolve:  just say "thank you". 

 Compliment someone, and nine out of ten times, they will come back with a reason why they don't deserve the compliment.  Compliment me, and I will most likely do the same.  

Why do we find the need to put ourselves down when someone says something nice to us? 

Deep inside, I think that there are many of us who feel that we are somehow building the person who gave us the compliment up by putting ourselves down.  The intention is good, but ultimately, everyone feels bad.  

Have we ever taken a step back to consider that the person doling out the compliment is trying to give a verbal gift to the recipient?  

(At this moment, I'm going to interrupt myself and clarify - I am referring to a sincere compliment, not an Eddie Haskell kiss up compliment.)

When I see one of my friends or colleagues looking particularly nice, I tell them.  My intention might be to give them an extra boost of confidence.  If they are doing something good for themselves, I might be trying to encourage them to keep doing what they are doing.  Lately, I've realized that when people do not except my compliment, it hurts, and I've been trying to figure out why it hurts. 

First of all, when we do not except a compliment, we are basically discrediting the words of our friend giving us the compliment.  We are kind of calling them out as being wrong, or insincere.   

Second, we are subconsciously fishing for more compliments.  If the person is being sincere, then they are going to try harder to make their words stick.  

Third, we are behaving like a martyr.  And no one likes a martyr.  

I've been working hard to just say thank you.  

"Hey Rachele - I really like your hair today."  

It is so easy to respond with something self deprecating, like "ugh, really?  I hate it!".  Think about it. Haven't I just accused them of having bad taste?  Deep down inside, don't I hope that they are going to tell me again how good I look?  

How much better would I feel, and how good would I make them feel if I just said "THANK YOU!"

Just say thank you.    

 

A Deep Dive into the Beauty and Destructiveness of Blogs Part 1: Introspection and Breaking a Poisonous Addiction

Chemical addiction is not something that plagues me beyond my sacred morning and afternoon coffee rituals, and the headache that hits if I don't have my daily doses of caffeine.  Lately, however, I have discovered that I do have an addition:  it is psychological and it is slowly poisoning my spirit.

My name is Rachele, and I'm a hate reader.  

I'm not sure if anyone else is familiar with this addiction, but it is nasty: soul-sucking, time-sucking, destructive and wasteful.  

The syringe?  The internet.  

The drug?  Blogs. 

Well, not all blogs. 

Many bloggers use their platform to teach and inspire.  My favorite blogs compel me to be a better me; to find beauty in the mundane; to hone my skills; and to do more with less.  They evoke feelings of well-being and well-wishing, even when I do not agree with a message, or share the same passion.

This is why I started reading blogs in the first place.  They all started out as little communities where common ground was discovered.   People who seemed to be at their wits' end with materialism and marketing were able to use the world wide web as a means of creating an environment of growth and accountability, further pursuing their passions and challenging others to identify and pursue theirs.  Many, myself included, found this very refreshing, and blog readership grew.  Bloggers became trusted sources of information.  Many of these blogs still exist and are thriving today.  

There are blogs that have ceased to bring me joy.  No longer do I find inspiration in their words, photos and videos.  On the contrary, at the end of their post, I feel drained.   My mood can be described as anything from deflated, dissatisfied and demotivated, to envious, enraged and bitter.     

What I am seeking is an understanding of why I find these negative feelings to be so addictive.  That is a strong word to use, but it fits.  Clearly something that is bad for me is activating the pleasure sensors in my brain. I keep reading these blogs.  I check in for more everyday...and if I'm being totally honest, multiple times a day.  

Most significantly, I find myself seeking out others that feel the same way about a particular blogger, frantically scrolling for negative comments at the end of a post, and popping over to snark forums.  In these places, I find validation for my feelings, camaraderie with the others that, like me, acknowledge the nakedness of this emperor parading in the streets  Together, we declare that anyone who likes, supports and defends the blogger is an ignorant, delusional sheep. 

The feelings continue to fester inside me, and I find pleasure in the thought that more and more people are finding out that this blogger is a phony.  It is becoming obvious that I keep going back because I long for the day that all supporters turn against the blogger, the day that more comments agree with me than disagree.  It makes me happy to dream of the day that the bloggers' fortunes and popularity not only decline, but that it is common knowledge that they caused their own downfall.  

Yes, as I type, it is frightening me, but it is true: I want them to walk around with a big scarlet letter on their chest, ringing a shame bell with one hand as they reach behind to beat themselves with a plank with the other; to admit that they have deceived their readers and that they have sold out. 

Make no mistake:  I do feel strongly that there are big problems within the blogging and social media world that need to be exposed and discussed.  

No, I do not feel that I am wholly out of line.  However, there is no excuse to succumb to these destructive and poisonous feelings. It is not OK to justify my bad behavior and sinister thoughts because of the blogger's content choice, or because I feel that they have sold out.  It is downright unacceptable to wish for and find joy in someone's failure, or to inflict judgement on someone that has a different perspective than I do.  

I need to stop hate reading.   

For my first step, I am acknowledging and taking responsibility for my actions that have led to my current state.  But like everyone plagued with an addiction, if I am to be successful overcoming it, I need to take a deeper dive into what is happening and why, and I need to understand that I, alone, have the power to stop.    

My goal is to explore this in a more constructive way; to clearly understand why I find joy in some blogs and why I need to stop following others.  There are reasons that so many blogs inspire so much snark and ill-wishing, while others do not.  My next question is why.

Monday...Funday?

Most of us nine-to-fivers agree that Monday's are a drag, second only to the anticipation of Monday on Sunday nights.  The countdown to Friday begins, and we spend the entire week asking strangers in the elevators and lesser known co-workers, after a long sigh, "Is it Friday yet?" 

 Recently, I became a bit disappointed in myself for thinking this way.  Time is a disappearing asset, we will not ever have the ability to make more of it.  With every breath that curses Monday and wishes for Friday, I inadvertently wish my time away.  How can I appreciate everyday, even though 40+ hours of the week are not my own?  

One thing is certain:  King Friday will always reign supreme.  Even Mr. Fred Rogers, in his infinite wisdom, knew this when he named his ironically uptight puppet.  Friday nights are full of wonder and excitement.  The whole weekend is ahead.  Perhaps there is an adventure already planned, or maybe there will be rest, or the completion of a project.  My favorite is when a weekend of rest is planned, and spontaneous fun occurs.  

The chimes of the Big Ben in my brain start to chime louder and more ominously as Sunday matures, and by Sunday night they are a full blown alarm, signaling that my own time is up.

Is there a way to celebrate Monday as a new beginning?  Yes, I will transform the dreaded Monday into something more...Monday Funday. 

On Sunday, I will set the mood by making sure that I'm prepared for the new week ahead.  

If my eyes open on Monday morning, I will recognize the ultimate blessing that is another day.  

When I start to resist the transfer of ownership of my time to my employer, I will be thankful for my employment.  It is good to have a job. King Friday's lifestyle would be severely compromised without funding.  

Upon arrival at work, my elevator encounters will be more uplifting.  I will smile at my colleagues, and entice my clients to continue to do business with me.  I will look forward to my latte in the afternoon, and savor it, again, thankful for my paycheck.   

My workday complete, I will head into the rush hour knowing that a feast awaits.  My favorite music turned to a desirable volume, a delicious and fun meal will be prepared, and an adult beverage of some type will be enjoyed.  

I will celebrate that I made it through Monday, and look forward to what the rest of the week will bring, if I'm blessed with more time.  

And hopefully, it will start all over again.  

Friends and Family: The Days are Long, but the Years are Short

Time is something that always seems scarce, doesn't it?  In reflecting on my year, I have found that I always make time to lay around and read.  I somehow find the time to google and gossip.  For some reason, I find myself very stingy with my time when it comes to my friends and family.

One factor in this is my personality.  On the introvert / extrovert continuum, I tend to slide further down towards introvert, and social anxiety for me is so real.  I do enjoy having time to myself, and it takes a tremendous amount of effort for me to socialize, especially in groups larger than about four - six is my absolute max.  If I make plans for Saturday night early in the week, no matter how much I love and care about the people that I will be socializing with, no matter how much I know I will laugh and have fun, I find myself stressed and exhausted, even days before the plans take place.

95% of the time, I leave the engagement with a feeling of well being, and a sense of belonging.  I try to hold on to those feelings in an effort to prevent my fatigue and stress the next time I make plans, but for some reason, I would rather make time to be alone.  The reality?  When I spend too much time alone, I start to feel alone.  As I have gotten older, this tends to bring on a massive attack of depression.

I also find that I really take my family for granted.  For instance, Christmas day is heaven to me; nothing is open, and I look forward to some downtime, where I am not thinking about errands and chores.  It is also a day when family typically wants to gather.  This year, my mom invited me to spend Christmas afternoon with them and eat dinner.  It was a small gathering of my mom and dad and my grandma  For some reason, I had to literally drag myself over to their house.  It wasn't that I didn't want to see or be with them, I simply didn't feel like going and making the effort to be social.

But as usual, I was so glad that I did.  This year there were so many things to be thankful for.  My 96 year old grandmother, is staying with my mom due to a broken hip and partial replacement earlier this year. She made full recovery, and not just a recovery, but a recovery that what would be considered a miraculously wonderful at any age, but especially hers.  My mom and dad are both relatively healthy and happy.

And then I drove home, listening to a Christmas Concert on NPR.  As I looked around at everyone's festive lights, I heard "Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow..." and I burst into tears.  This could be my last Christmas with any of those I love.

Heck - this could be my last Thursday with any of those people that I love...I'm not guaranteed Friday, and neither are my friends and family.

"The days are long, but the years are short.".  I don't know who exactly to attribute that saying to, but most recently I was reminded of it by Gretchen Rubin, who named this as one of her most valuable Secrets of Adulthood.

Reflecting on this did make me quite melancholy, but oddly hopeful.   It inspired me to create two of my own Secrets of Adulthood along with a Commandment to myself:

SECRET:  I don't like doing nothing nearly as much as I think I do when there are things to do, or places to be.

  

SECRET:  I can always find a way to make more money; I will never be able to find a way to create more time.  

COMMANDMENT:  When and idea to do, to be or to go brings feelings of excitement, warmth and joy, keep the tendency to question in check and just go with it. 

(Note to my future self:   YES. This means that sometimes I will have to force myself to do stuff.  99% of the time, I won't regret it.) 


The secrets and commandments were discussed by Gretchen Rubin.  I've read two of her books The Happiness Project and Better than Before.  Both of these works make reference to this practice.  Both of these works resonated with me, and one day I found myself gravitating towards this practice myself.  I've found it quite helpful to have these little reminders circulating in my brain, that never ceases to question the point of what I'm doing.