The Gratitude Thief

I was discussing Christmas traditions with a group of people,
and someone made this interesting observation regarding
children's gifts:

"No matter what it is, the first gift is always the best."

We thought about that for a few seconds and then agreed,
since it seemed to fit each person's personal recollections.

In sixteen years of children, we've had just one Christmas
where, everyone agreed, there were just too many presents.
(I blame the grandparents...)

Since then, we've let the grandparents do the heavy lifting
with gifts, since they seem to enjoy it.  We've contented
ourselves with supplying the "Santa gift", complete with
a note from Santa.

If the children ever noticed there's no gift from Mom and Dad,
they've never said anything.

Which brings me back to the idea that the first gift is the best.
Why is that?
I wonder if it's because the gratitude-tank is full at the beginning
of the gift-opening...and gradually empties as the gifts keep coming.

(If you've ever been to a marathon bridal or baby shower,
you've seen this in action.  The squeals of delight start to take
on a rather forced quality about fifteen minutes in.)

And that means, The Gratitude Thief just might be:

Stuff

Stuff that needs thank you notes, display/storage space
and cleaning or maintenance, if and when it's used.

Obviously, some stuff contributes to quality of life:
I loathe steaming the family-room carpet, but I'm
grateful that we have a steamer so we can do the job
ourselves (less grateful for the carpet...shoulda gone
with tile).

But the twelve these-are-too-large-but-we-need-a-set-
of-plain-ones wine glasses?
They finally went to consignment.
(I'm grateful for that!)

Because the children are well aware of my ongoing
thinning-the-herd mindset, I hope I'm also modeling
for them the value of quality over quantity, with room
for sentimental keepsakes...

...to keep the Gratitude Thief and his overflowing
bag of stuff out of their lives.

The Contentment Thief

After leaving my unionized government job, I was anxious, I admit.

I had some income to make up.
Maintain our two-income lifestyle and the children's activities.

But...I didn't.
Business never took off.  I didn't have the "drive", the "why"
or some other crucial personality trait.

Plus, I just couldn't get excited about the incentive/reward "stuff."
I was happy with the stuff we have.  (And, I'm one of those
always-culling-the-herd types).

We cut back...cut back again...got some help...got more help...

...and something strange began to happen.

I began to believe we would be ok.
Even if Plan A (or B, or C, or...)
never came to fruition.

That said, I HATED (and still do) hearing
how my goals are too small, how I don't want
success "enough", how I'm not worth someone's time
because I don't share their goals:

I didn't want the fancy car.
I don't want the fancy trips...or the jewelry.
I don't want syncophants (spellchecker doesn't know that word either)

Most of all,
I don't want desire for recognition (by whom?)
to steal my contentment.

That's tough, because the Contentment Thief
is literally everywhere.
When the Contentment Thief speaks,
it sounds exactly like people I know:

"Who's running for XXX this month?"
"Will you be on the leader-board?"
"I wanna give a shout out to our amazing leader!"

I'm actually not sure what the
Contentment Thief's M.O. is.

After all, my contentment isn't any good to anyone else.
It wouldn't fit them.
Everyone has their own contentment.

The best defense I've found so far, against the Contentment Thief?
A simple..."Meh."

It makes the Contentment Thief crazy
(as far as I can tell),
but it works like a charm.

Back to my writing....

Regrets...I've Had A Few

With apologies to Frank Sinatra...

I repeatedly "share" with my boys the peril of regret; specifically,
that regrets never go away, especially if they are of the things-not-done
variety.

I tell them, "No one has ever said, 'Rats, I wish I'd never learned to play piano.'"
Or, "I wish I hadn't persisted with martial arts long enough to get my black belt."
Or, "All those skills I learned in Scouts...wish I didn't have those."

My way of saying, "Nope, you're not abandoning this yet."

I don't think fear  motivates their reluctance,
they just don't (yet) see the long-term value of persistence, self-discipline,
time-management, habit-of-mastery.

But, sometimes fear IS there.
It's kept me from doing things in the past; opportunities that won't come back.

I've seen fear in some of the girls I skate with.
So, they decide not to compete, or to test, or to perform.
Whenever I get a chance, I tell them (or anyone),
"Failure sucks, but regret sucks even more."

Plus, most failure is temporary.
Life is extremely generous that way...usually, as long as you're willing to give something another whack, Life allows you to do that.

For years, until a new scoring system came into play,
I would argue with my skating coaches about whether or not I should leave elements out of
my skating programs, if those elements weren't rock-solid.
I usually wanted to give a try.  They didn't want me to be penalized.
I didn't want the regret of an opportunity missed, even if it was a looooong shot!

And I know first-hand...if I decide, in the heat of the moment,
to start leaving elements out of a program, I regret it immediately.

When members of my family have travel opportunities that involve flying
(I'm not a fan...to say the least),  it's really, really difficult to choke back my
own fear and say, "Of course you must go.  It's a wonderful opportunity."
But, I KNOW I would regret trying to hold them back.

Years ago, when I had decided to leave my soul-sucking government job
and work from home, a co-worker and I were discussing health insurance,
which I carried for the family. She was trying to dissuade me from leaving.
"What if one of you has a medical emergency or gets really sick?" she asked.
"But, what if we don't?" I countered.

Five years later, we haven't had any medical emergencies, and the list of family memories
I wouldn't have made, new friends I wouldn't have met and new skills I wouldn't have learned
is too long to list.

Regrets, I've had a few...but I'm working hard to keep that list short!

Being The Messenge, Not The Messenger

I've been hearing a LOT of buzz this past year about
"branding yourself".

Presumably NOT with a hot iron...although
I've (accidentally) done that too.

I thought about going that route also, for awhile.
to build my home business.  I would become
the message, not just the messenger.  People
would be attracted to ME, "like" ME and
want to follow ME.

See where this is headed?

I've watched people take up the Personal Brand
banner...some quite successfully.

And now, those people have to answer the
question, every day:

"How to I, personally, entertain/inform/engage/
keep my followers coming back for more?"

That sounds like a hamster-wheel to me.
"More, more, more!"
Plus, even more insidious...
...is the intoxicating taste of the
brand-name instant fruit-flavored beverage.

(You know the one...trademarked name)

And it's REALLY DIFFICULT not to.
Right?

It's so tempting to believe the hype, the
compliments...to want a sip of that beverage too.
Y'know what though?
It changes people.
Makes them self-centered.
Intent on being the center of attention.

So, what about the message?
Is there something solid, valuable or
uplifting in it, so people would want to
hear it,

no matter who the messenger is?

That sound much more attractive to me.
Thoughts, insights & life lessons don't
HAVE to be original (and mine aren't)
to stand the test of time.
Good stuff is good stuff.

Besides...building a pedestal is just too much work!

Power Up!

You know that old saying that people don't change as they age...they just become "more" themselves?
Seems legit.

On the other hand, I always thought that power actually changed people, so the formerly-fun-n-friendly coworker who morphed into a pitiless whip-cracker had undergone an actual personality change.

"And then, he turned into someone else."

But just recently, I came across the mash-up idea that power doesn't actually change people, but, like age, it just brings out what was already there.

That's a little unnerving, on a couple fronts.
First of all, it might not be possible to get the true measure of a person without exposing them to the sweet, siren-song of power.  But, I'm not sure I WANT to know that, deep down, someone I consider a friend finds me...useful.  Or...not useful. 

Second, turning the mirror inward is unnerving too.  If I had a podium, or a pedestal, or both, would I forget the "little people?"  I hope not...but maybe the seed of scorn IS lurking somewhere inside.

I wonder if just being aware of the possibility of turning into a I-drink-my-own-kool-aid-and-boy-is-it-delicious, I-am-the-Great-and-Powerful-Oz...weenie is enough to keep it from happening. 

On the bright side, with no podium or pedestal on the horizon, I won't have to do any soul-searching any time soon. 

And, there are some other examples too, of how power didn't corrupt:  The late Princess of Wales (love her), evangelist Billy Graham, and, further back in the archive, Wenceslaus, Duke of Bohemia ("Good King Wenceslaus").  So, good people CAN retain their goodness. 

It's pretty well established  by neurologists (and elite athletes) that almost any behavior which initially requires thinking can become "muscle memory".  Like, saying "thank you," or checking over your shoulder before changing lanes.  If kindness, or at least kind behavior, becomes muscle memory, I'm guessing that neither a pedestal nor advancing age would change that.

Something to work on.  That age thing is coming on fast.