Jul 17, 2012

The Secret Language of Friendship

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My focus this year is to move relationships from superficial to deep and meaningful. There are people who I’ve been meaning schedule time with and we pass each other and say, “We need to get together.” It still hasn’t happened yet.

As I consider, how to move in this direction I’ve taken a look at the relationships I have that are already deep and meaningful. I realized that when you reach that point something happens …

Do you and your friends have your own language? Things that you say to one another but no one else understands? Anyone overhearing your conversation would require a translator for this special language you share.

We all have a secret, encrypted lingo we use in certain relationships; a dialect that is used in specific circles.

I can walk up to my girlfriend and say, “Yeah Keith, I do” or “Four and five.” She knows exactly what I mean. I don’t have to say anything else. But anyone listening would wonder, “What was that about?”

It’s part of our language and it means something to just us. Our glossary of phrases is mostly made up of movie lines that we have quoted so frequently, that they’ve taken on a whole new meaning. They’ve become part of our relational lexicon.

Please understand why I won’t be sharing the phrases and meanings in detail. You wouldn’t want me to know your secret code either, right? Unless you feel compelled to share, please do so in the comments …

Mad About You

Mad About You (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’m reminded of an episode of the 90’s show, Mad About You,where Paul & Jamie Buchman go to a party. Paul tells a stranger about how he and his wife have a signal for:  Come-rescue-me-because-this-person-I’m-talking-to-is-really-boring. Then Jamie ends up in a conversation with the same stranger and uses “the sign”. You can imagine the repercussions, right? The boring conversationalist was someone who could have helped Paul in his career. Not good.

We all do it. We deepen relationships with shared experiences. We build on what we have in common. We create a bubble of personal connection with our friends and family. We use phrases like: “It’s an inside joke,” or “You had to be there.”

My girlfriends and I run our movie lines whenever we get together for SGT or Sista Girl Time which you may call Girls Night Out or GNO. We laugh like wild women over our own silliness. It’s awesome. It’s our Sista Girl language. It creates a sense of belonging together.

Special languages are not meant to exclude but unfortunately they can. They are signs of strengthened bonds. I have unique vocabulary in a lot of relationships:  with my boys, my husband, my sisters, and friends in many circles. The real trick is to find ways to deepen relationships with those who may feel left out or on the fringes.

I’ve arrived at depth with some people but I have a lot to learn about intentionally reaching this level with others. How can I make languages emerge with new friends? How do you move relationships from the superficial to genuine and close-knit? Any suggestions, please share.

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Jul 14, 2012

Expressions of Love: A Gratitude Journal

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My husband of 12 years is handsome and smart. He’s geek chic. A software engineer in his first career and a man of the cloth in his second. He has gorgeous eyes that I still can’t decide if they are brown, green, or hazel. He has an infectious laugh and a heart-warming smile. He is hard working and cares for his family. For these reasons and many more I love him. That love grows with each year that passes. He is the perfect man for me.

In the midst of living life, sometimes I forget to tell him or show him just how much I love him. But then this opportunity presented itself.

As part of my job I read books about leadership, entrepreneurialism, and motivation. I read these books with two purposes:  fulfill my job requirements and mine for gold. Each book needs to yield at least one golden nugget of information or insight that I can apply in my life.

August of 2011, I had to read The Compound Effect by Darren Hardy. In the book the author challenges a friend to spend a year writing down at least one thing each day that he loved or appreciated about his wife. Hardy had done the same for his wife as a gift for Thanksgiving. A gift of gratitude and expression of love. That was my golden nugget.

I decided to take the challenge. It wasn’t easy because on days when I was frustrated or angry or just tired, I couldn’t write a journal entry. Plus the instructions state that you shouldn’t repeat something you’ve already written about … characteristics, tasks, and actions, should only receive one entry.

But the journal became a journey of understanding the impact gratitude can have on our lives. Remembering that what we focus on is what we are surrounded by.

Starting every entry with “Thank you for …” grew tiring. It got stale and boring. I didn’t want this gift to be described with such adjectives. I invested time in finding quotes and poems and phrases to include in the journal.

The more I searched and the more I wrote, I found that it made me talk to my husband differently within the moment. Life was no longer getting in the way of me saying, “Thank you,” and “I appreciate you.” I was thinking about being thankful beyond having something to write down for him to read a year later.

On his birthday yesterday I gave him this gift. Hopefully, it’s a gift that keeps giving. A keepsake of my love for him, written in my own hand. A gift he didn’t know I was creating for him as he watched me journal night after night. Sitting next to me in bed he watched without knowing I was writing about him or for him.

It was worth it to hear his reaction, “It’s the best birthday gift anyone’s ever given me.”

Will you take this challenge? Maybe a short one … between now and Thanksgiving or Christmas? Take the time today and every day to express your love to that special someone. Or, may be you already have. If so, share how the gift was received.

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Jul 4, 2012

Melancholy Moment & I Don’t Know Why …

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Do you ever feel like giving up? Or, you feel like you can’t seem to do anything right? Maybe you feel lost and alone? Or maybe you feel conflicted; like you want to follow your heart because you believe it’s the right thing for you instead of listening to your head because it’s practical?

That’s the kind of day I had yesterday. It’s weird because it was a good day. Actually, I had a wonderful week.

After my villain showed up the novel has gained momentum. So much so I was able to start planning the direction of the novel instead of going along for the ride, which is exciting because I haven’t done much preplanning. I wrote new words and drafted an outline.  Yippee. Success.

Every request that came to my desk was addressed or resolved. I won’t return to work after the holiday with issues waiting for me. Well, I’ll have new issues to handle but I left an empty inbox and clear desktop which is rare. Makes me smile.

As far as parenting … I didn’t raise my voice at the boys or blow up. We had dinner and quiet time. I allowed them to resolve their own issues and entertain themselves.

Plus, Wednesdays are family night but thanks to the holiday I’m off from work, so today gets to be Family DAY.  It’s awesome.

Summer is in full bloom. It’s warm and sunny. I can sit outside and get doses of vitamin D.

  • It’s not writer’s block.
  • It’s not job stress.
  • It’s not familial frustration.
  • It’s not bad weather.

Life is good. This state of discontent caught me by surprise. I came home and crawled under the covers to hide from the world for just a little while. Why?

It could be a Dad Day masked as self-doubt and adorned in apathy. It could be fear of failure or success.

Maybe I am suffering from life-is-going-exactly-as-it-should, which means something big and bad is waiting around the corner.

If I follow my heart it could lead me to oblivion. But if I listen to my head I could be on the road to greatness. No matter which path I choose, I refuse to dwell melancholy too long.

I think I’ll buy some flowers to cheer myself up. Maybe I’ll get a new set of pens.

What do you do when you’re faced with melancholy moments? How do you bounce back from times of inner turmoil?

Now my pity party is over.

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Jul 1, 2012

Practicing Silence

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Solitude is a spiritual discipline. Solitude and silence go hand in hand.

“Without silence there is no solitude. Though silence sometimes involves the absence of speech, it always involves the act of listening. Simply to refrain from talking, without a heart listening to God, is not silence.” ~ Celebration of Discipline by Richard J. Foster

That’s not all. Silence is a powerful communication tool. My husband recommended I end the post here followed only by blank lines, for effect. But I haven’t mastered silence yet, obviously, because I always have something to say. Words bubble up inside of me waiting to pop out of my mouth at any given moment.

I’m one of those people who thinks every conversation is about me. As a writer and avid reader I tend to have random tidbits of information to share or interesting tales to tell in hopes of adding to the flavor of any conversation.

It rarely occurs to me (usually after the interaction is over) that others may not find my tidbits and tales worthy of conversation. Walking away is the point where I realize I did all the talking and the other person was gracious enough not to call me a conversation hog even though I was …

Sorry, just being straight. I can’t help myself. But I am working on it.

When my husband started seminary 4 years ago, I was a little panicked. The pastors’ wives that I knew seemed to have this wonderful ability to know when to share and when to keep quiet. In my case, there are enough incidents of “open mouth, insert foot” that I couldn’t imagine being a pastor’s wife.

As I attempt to figure out what it means to deepen relationships, I find myself biting my lip to hold in the words. I make an effort to just let the other person share and not act on my need to tell my equally (if not more so) amusing story. Better yet, I am working on staying in the moment long enough to hear what the other person has to say instead of thinking about what I will say next or introduce into conversation.

I realize there is a need for relating, connecting, or identifying to deepen relationships. However, if my focus is all about me I will miss the real opportunities to connect.

  • Dramatic Pause
  • Pregnant Pause
  • Pause Expectantly
  • Waiting with Bated Breath

Silence can be a powerful way of expressing emotions ranging from anger and contempt to love and concern. I am learning the power of silence as a key to deepening relationships. Trust me it is hard work; especially for a self-proclaimed talkaholic who used to say, “I like to hear the sound of my own voice.” Okay, maybe I still say that. But I am thankful that my focus is shifting to others for a change.

If you have ways that you make people feel like the most important person in the room or in a conversation please share. This is a quest like none I’ve ever experienced.

Filed Under: Opinion, Personal · Tagged: ,
Jun 23, 2012

Handwritten Correspondence: Where Have You Gone?

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Pen is courtesy of RECTurnings: http://www.recturnings.etsy.com

We live in a tech savvy culture. We live in a tech dependent world.

I, for one, miss the personal touch of a handwritten note. I miss getting “real” mail like letters, cards, or invitations in the distinctive hand of the sender.

Don’t you wish that when you opened your mailbox that you were buried under an avalanche of personalized handwritten correspondence? Instead we are buried under an avalanche that consists of coupons, bills, advertisements, and solicitations.

Credit card companies have gotten wise to the fact that people want mail that contains even the faintest whisper of personal connection. The most recent “please get our credit card” solicitation I received, looked like a wedding or baby shower invitation; which is the only reason I opened it rather than immediately shredding it.

Right after college I spent a lot of time sending cards and notes to my friends. Back then it was cheaper to put a stamp on an envelope than to call. At least once a week one of my closest friends received a handwritten note from me.

Taking great care in picking the right card or stationery. Writing an outline of the stuff I wanted to share. Why? I don’t know. Selecting the perfect pen based on color, point, type, etc. Print or cursive or a combination.

I loved it. Sitting at my writing desk and spreading everything out. Each letter had to be unique based on the person who would receive it.

My life wasn’t exciting and there wasn’t much to tell but I put a lot of effort into telling the story in the most interesting way. I wrote about work stuff, family things, books and movies. Nothing Earth shattering. I was too busy writing about life to live it.

And if I missed a week, I would get a complimentary phone call stating, “I didn’t get my letter this week. Where is it?”

As a matter of fact I saw one of these friends recently and she said, “I remember when you used to send me letters.”

Keep in mind I didn’t get much handwritten correspondence in return. Sometimes it was okay but sometimes I wanted reciprocity. More than anything though, I was glad that I afforded some of my friends with a moment of joy.

Then life got busy to the point where I had to live it and my letter writing slowed.

Enter the age of “cheap” long distance. I remember getting offers to change services, from 7 cents to 5 cents to 3 cents. It became cheaper to call. One commercial advertised a woman talking about calling her sister to “talk about nothing for hours” because it was so cheap. That’s what my sisters and I did. We’d sit on the phone and watch TV together like we were in the same room.

Following the cheap long distance age came the Hotmail age (dial up and slow connections but quicker than sending a letter by post). Email made correspondence easier and quicker. Then came the cell phone in every hand and texting. Now we live in the age of the SmartPhone with Facetime & Skype as options.

I miss the personal notes, so I started letter writing again. A few years ago in an intentional personal campaign I decided to bring back handwritten correspondence. Trust me when I say the comeback is a slow burn. But I am committed to it.

Imagine my excitement then when PaperMate®   introduced a new pen line called InkJoy™. Part of their mission:  ‘But most of all, we wanted to bring back the joy to writing …” Awesome, right? It’s aligned with one of my personal causes. I still need to decide if the pens bring me as much joy as their mission statement.

Anyway, I’m back at it. Writing letters. Personalizing each note to each person. Buying stationery and note cards that make me smile knowing the person on the receiving end will smile too. Paying the price of stamps and hopefully adding a special life moment for the recipient.

When was the last time someone sent you a personal handwritten note? It’s been too long. When was the last time you sent one? Also, too long.

Join the mission today … I am calling you to arms or rather to hands … sit down and pen a thank you or thinking of you or miss you note. Choose someone you rarely see or talk to. Choose someone you see every day. Put an “I LOVE YOU” in that special someone’s computer bag or handbag or backpack.

I dare you to make someone’s day by contributing to an avalanche of handwritten correspondence. Maybe you’ll be buried under an avalanche too!

Filed Under: Opinion, Personal · Tagged: , , ,
Jun 17, 2012

DAD DAYS – When I Miss Him Most

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I lost my Dad more than 8 years ago. It doesn’t get any easier with each passing year as I thought it would.

With the soulful tones of Luther Vandross’s Dance with My Father filling the car, I pulled away from my childhood home knowing that homecoming would never be the same without Dad there to greet me along side my Mom.

  • In childhood, Dad was my superhero. He could do no wrong in my eyes.
  • In adolescence, Dad taught me to dream big and believe in my ability to make those dreams come true.
  • In early adulthood, Dad was my life-coach; counselor; financial advisor; professional mentor; and friend. I consulted him on every major decision.
  • In marriage, Dad was supposed to be my teacher and support for parenting and relationships. But he died shortly after I found out I was pregnant with my oldest son.

I mourn the fact that my boys will never know their Papa Dave. When I see them display mannerisms that are undeniably Dad’s I am sad that they don’t understand how they came by them. That they inherited them from Dad. But I am thankful for this circle of life that gives me such moments to remember Dad.

I’ve come to romanticize Dad’s existence; often only speaking of the kind things he did, like giving his last dollar to someone panhandling outside the grocery store. Or how he always had a fresh pot of coffee brewing and willing ear to hear the worries of others who stopped by for his wise counsel.

Now that he’s gone, I don’t want to take him down from the pedestal we’ve placed him on.

I miss the denim jacket and ball cap. The white running shoes without laces that he tried to dye brown. I miss the quick wit and easy laughter.

I miss him saying things like, “Someone call the police and make this one play,” if you took too long making your move in a game of cards or Yatzee.

I miss how he would laugh at his own jokes, saying, “Now that’s a knee-slapper.” Usually, they weren’t funny but that didn’t stop him from enjoying it.

I miss the songs that he would sing while playing the spoons or harmonica or mouth-pick:

Hambone, hambone, where ya been? Going around the corner and going again. Beans and cornbread had a fight. Beans knocked cornbread out of sight.

Or,

I can tell by your knees you’ve been climbing those coconut trees. You goin’ look like a monkey when you get. When you get old and grey people goin’ look at you and say, I can tell by your knees you’ve been climbing those coconut trees.

I missed him singing along to his favorite LPs …

  • Bad Bad LeRoy Brown (Jim Croce)
  • Charlie Brown(The Coasters)

I do my best to share stories about the man who shaped my life but sometimes feel like it’s not enough. He was larger than life and touched many lives. Words alone don’t capture that well.

More than 8 years have gone by and I still have days where missing him paralyzes me. Still have days where I dream of him because I am faced with a major decision and I need his advice.

On these days I declare DAD DAYS. When people ask me, “What’s wrong?” I simply say, “I’m having a Dad Day.”

When DAD DAYS come I sit and listen to Luther Vandross singing:

“…If I could get another chance, another walk, another dance with him, I’d play a song that would never ever end. How I’d love, love, love, to dance with my father again … Never dreamed that he would be gone from me. If I could steal one final glance, one final step, one final dance with him, I’d play a song that would never ever. ‘Cause I’d love, love, love, to dance with my father again …”

My heart yearns for him. Yet I know God’s will for our lives involved saying goodbye when we did. But even as I sit here typing, my kids playing innocently in the next room, I can’t contain the tears.

Cherish the moments you have with loved ones.

Happy Father’s Day DRH … Today’s a DAD DAY because I miss you most at times like these.

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