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402 days. 402 (plus or minus… mostly minus) posts.

Tag: love

Day 87: Presence Day, Part 2

In honor of day two of Presence Day, I’m proposing a few of additions to our Presence Day regimen.

  • Meet a good friend for a beer. Talk about the concepts and issues important to you, like kindness, racism, sexism and good balsamic vinegar. And how you’re completely comfortable putting international travel on your credit cards.
  • Admit you don’t know something. Then learn about it.
  • Think about someone you love. Then call them, just to say hello (and that you love them).

seaweed

Day 82: Sample Valentines

Not sure what to say today? Here are some sample Valentine’s Day wishes you can share with your loved ones.

To the friend you see all the time:
You are the coolest. Thank you for drinking that bottle of wine with me last week and for always telling me when it’s been too long between showers. #besties

To the friend you haven’t seen in a while:
Hey, you. I miss you. Come visit me soon and we’ll go to the park and pretend to be robots just like the good old days when we were nine. Me-Malfunction-Without-You.

To that person you just started dating:
We haven’t been dating long enough for me to comfortably say anything other than that you smell good. Have a great day!

To that person you’ve been dating forever:
You still look good in those sweatpants, babe. Also, I saved you three pieces of chocolate.

To your parents:
Do you remember back in 1999 when someone hit the side of our house with a car? That was me. Love you!

To your kids:
One day, someone will fall in love with you and you will fall in love with someone. On that day, the “someones” might not be the same people. Don’t sweat it.

To yourself:
Treat yourself today—to some chocolate cake, to a spin class at that fancy gym, to the new sweater you were eyeing last December (it’s on sale now!). You rock.

heart

Day 81: Manifesto

I will wake up every morning glad to be awake. I will be open and honest. I will feed my fish. When I fear I’m becoming closed off or closed in, I will gently peel back my layers.

I will turn my face to the sun. I will change directions. I will sleep soundly.

I will look for the light in others. I will be confidently intuitive. When my confidence fades, I will be happily self-conscious.

I will be smart. I will be savvy. Maybe not savvy.

I will be wrong sometimes. When I am wrong, I will admit it. I will eat cookies. I will cook lentils. I will smile at children and I will pet puppies. I will swim like a turtle. I will not judge others. When judgment creeps in, I will notice it and take a breath. I will not be perfect.

I will love my family. I will hug my friends.

I will be so quiet that I can hear every leaf shifting on every tree in my neighborhood. I will laugh so loudly every leaf will shift. I will cry. I will let go.

I will stand up for those who can’t. I will water my plants. I will lose hope. I will find joy. I will remember to buy toilet paper before the last roll runs out. I will ask for help and I will help others.

I will dance. I will rest. I will write.

turtle glide

Day 41: Why Don’t We Dance?

I’ve always wondered why more of us (Americans, generally) don’t dance. It feels wonderful and it’s incredibly therapeutic. It’s nearly impossible to not smile during and/or after a great dance break.

Tiny Dancer

Every time I’ve veered away from it, dance makes its way back into my life, all sneaky-like. I am currently the proud holder of both a B.A. and an M.F.A in dance. But I firmly believe that a degree is not necessary in order to appreciate, love and use dance to make life better. That’s me on the right, a couple of years before college.

To me, dance is perfect. It connects our minds to our bodies in ways that are impossible to manufacture with other activities. Thinking about an arm, a knee, a hand or one toe so deeply that the owner knows his/her body—really knows it—awakens parts of the brain that don’t otherwise engage. It’s a beautiful thing.

So, I’ve always wondered why more of us don’t dance.

I do realize it can be scary and vulnerable. We get nervous around people expressing themselves with their bodies. Outside of the theater or the dance club, we don’t understand why someone would gyrate their pelvis or thrash their arms around. When a person enjoys a solo dance party on the street or in the park, we tend to see them as drunk, disturbed or out of control.

And maybe they are.

But maybe not. Maybe they just get it. Maybe they understand that one’s body is more than skin and muscles and bones, and it’s more than a temple. Our bodies are so deeply us. They’re our brains. Our souls. Our bodies are ours in ways that nothing else will ever be ours. And when they’re broken, or they don’t work how we think they should or they don’t look quite right, they’re still ours. They’re still amazing.

And we can always, always dance.

Day 30: The Note

When I moved back to Minnesota for the second time (there have been many times), I funded my volunteer internship at a nonprofit arts organization by working at the front desk of a downtown hotel. Travel can be a little discombobulating, so for 32–40 hours each week, it was my  job to be nice to people and help them find things. In my tenure, I found lost watches, lost phone chargers, misplaced luggage, a couple of kids, restaurants, “that one building with the red sign,” extra towels, lost wallets, room keys and sunglasses. I also found a number of lost purses.

One afternoon, a woman arrived fairly frazzled. When I asked for a credit card “for incidental charges,” she realized she left her purse in the cab she took from the airport—but she couldn’t remember which cab company she used. I let her know it would be fine and made a few phone calls. A few minutes later, the cabbie was on his way back to the hotel, purse in-hand.

I didn’t think about it again until later that week when my manager gave me a note the woman left at the front desk when she departed. I still have it. Her words have stuck with me over the years because she helped me truly understand the powerful effect our everyday actions have on others.

I’ve typed the note below. It’s a reminder to me (and hopefully to you) to take some extra care with people this year and next. Be kind. Be respectful. Be patient if they’re a little difficult or upset. Listen. Smile. A seemingly insignificant exchange may make a big difference to someone.

The Note

To: Hotel Manager
May 12, 2005

Greetings,

I arrived this afternoon and inadvertently left my purse in the cab that brought me from the airport. Of course, I felt complete and utter panic.

Ashleigh greeted me and was immediately sympathetic, helpful and reassuring. She took complete charge of the situation—called around to cab companies and facilitated the speedy return of my purse and all associated belongings. I am so grateful for her gracious and effective assistance.

What she had no way of knowing is that this is my first business trip since being diagnosed with breast cancer about three weeks ago, so I came into the situation already feeling rather vulnerable. She didn’t know that—or me—but her care and concern were genuine and her tactics flawless. My appreciation extends to her manager and company for creating an environment where she was able and willing to be of great and immediate service.

Please thank her profusely.

Sincerely,
J.C.

Our interaction was probably no more than five minutes long, but it meant something to her. And her response—the note—means something to me still.

However you celebrate your holiday this year, spread a little love around to the strangers.