Showing posts with label showing compassion for others. Show all posts
Showing posts with label showing compassion for others. Show all posts

Sunday, September 2, 2018

Life Lessons from the Wild Boars




Not long ago, the world waited with bated breath while watching the rescue of 12 boys, members of the Wild Boars soccer team, and their coach, who were caught in a flooded subterranean cave deep under the mountains of Chang Rai, Thailand. We witnessed the extraordinary worldwide commitment to their safe return to their families as rescue workers from different nationalities, ethnicities and cultural backgrounds dedicated their time, effort and means, once even at the expense of their own lives to the task at hand. Nothing mattered other than saving these children.

We see this kind of selfless devotion to the lives of others over and over again, during many times of crises, all over the globe. And once the crisis has past, we sigh with relief and turn our attention back to our ordinary lives.

But here’s the thing. If we so choose, we can infuse our ordinary lives with some of the heroism and dedication that absorbed our minds and hearts over the Thailand boys and their rescuers. We all face stressful challenges in our day-to-day lives (not as stressful as what those children and their parents went through, but stressful nonetheless). Instead of giving up, we can step up, and be the very best of ourselves in situations that cause us unhappiness, anger, grief or despair.

How?

1. Adopt a more compassionate response toward others and ourselves.

None of the rescuers spent time or energy on the fact that they were in no way related to the Thai boys, that there would be no profit in it for them, that they had no obligation to help. The rescuers, regardless of background or belief, simply worked together toward a common goal.

You’re having problems at work? Or with your family? With your health? Appreciate a basic truth: everyone is simply doing the best they can with what they’ve got from where they are. Including you. Once you accept that, you can then forgive yourself and others for whatever pickle you/they are in, and seek to understand the situation. Understanding what’s going on from everyone’s point of view is what lets you effectively deal with the situation.

2. Skip right past blame and finger pointing.

The rescue workers in Thailand didn't waste time debating whose fault the crisis was, or insist that so-and-so be blamed and raked over the coals. They just pitched in and did what needed to be done. In other words, they got on with the solution.

Nothing good comes out of blame or finger pointing. It’s a giant waste of your creativity and mental capacity. Ditch it. Whatever your specific situation, aim yourself firmly in the direction of problem-solving and have at it. Just like the rescue workers, you’ll be much more likely to succeed.

We are all capable of far more than we think we are. It takes focus, a willingness to leave our egos aside, and engage our mighty selves (yes, you are mighty!) in doing what is necessary to resolve whatever the issue may be. It really doesn’t matter whether your personal crisis is small (your baby is crying – again!) or large (a dreaded diagnosis), a compassionate response, dumping blame and finger pointing and concentrating on finding a solution will serve you exceedingly well.

Thursday, December 29, 2016

A Heartfelt New Year’s Resolution: Show You Care!




I heard the sirens behind me before I saw the flashing lights of an ambulance, followed closely by a fire truck. Like everyone else on the roadway, I looked around trying to figure out where the ambulance was heading, and as soon as I saw the lights, eased my car over to the right side of the road. Only the ambulance wasn’t traveling in the direction of traffic, the ambulance was heading for whichever side of the roadway was clear, if only for a few car-lengths -  much to the surprise, no doubt, of those in the oncoming lane of traffic.

I figured it must be a truly urgent emergency for the ambulance and fire truck to be commandeering both sides of Pacific Coast Highway. Nonetheless, drivers on either side were nudging their cars onto the side, out of the way. At no time did the ambulance have to blow its horn, slow down, or do anything else to get where it needed to go.

We care. We really do. In moments of crisis, large or small, our respect for one another simply as human beings, shows up. I am reminded of a very touching video posted in the final weeks of the chaotic Presidential campaigns, which featured a woman trying to find the owner of a lost dog found wandering in a parking lot. It was an “equal opportunity” posting, in that the same situation was played out in both Trump and Clinton rallies. The woman wore a “Trump” t-shirt in the Clinton situation, and a “Clinton” t-shirt in the Trump situation. Didn’t matter. People in both rallies, without exception, treated the woman with respect, and tried their very best to help her find the dog’s owner. Small crisis, true, but oh-so-telling.

We care. We really do. So what if, this New Year, we made a resolution to show our caring, our respect for our shared humanity, when it isn’t a matter of a lost dog or tragic accident? What if, just as a matter of course, throughout our most ordinary of days, we made the effort to give people the benefit of the doubt, to assume people are doing their best (including ourselves!), and to respect them, regardless of whether or not we agree with them.

I know, it’s easier to do with lost dogs than it is with co-workers or family, much less strangers who are rude to us or ignore us altogether. But heck, we’re still all in this together, and a little bit of respect and consideration goes a long way.

And who knows? Someone may give you some of that respect and consideration when you least expect it, in a most delightful way.

Happy New Year!

Monday, October 31, 2016

Ride the Wave: Hawaii 5-0’s Surprising Lesson in Thankfulness




Just the other night, I was watching one of my favorite TV shows, “Hawaii 5-0,” where one of the main characters featured in that night’s episode was a young woman, a veteran, who’d served in Afghanistan, during which time she’d lost both legs. The show was forthright in its brief portrayal of some of the tough challenges such vets can face: depression, falling into substance abuse to alleviate the physical and mental anguish, homelessness.

But the clincher, for me, was to see this young woman, who (in the story) had been a surfing champion before her service, find the courage (with help from one of the show’s regulars) to ride the waves in her bikini on a board equipped with special hand-holds so she could “stand” proud and true, on the little bit that was left of her upper legs, a surfer once again.

I still cry when I think of it. Not only because I think the show is to be commended for its refusal to hide the character’s disability, but because it brought home to me vividly, that every one of our lives matter and have meaning.  Disabled lives, black lives, vet lives, transgender lives, homeless lives, children’s lives, white lives, Native American lives, immigrant lives, and all the other lives too numerous to mention. No matter what label or category you prefer to use to describe yourself (“Other” is my favorite), the truth is that all our lives are important.

You matter. You count. You are important. And so is everyone else in your world. In this season, where thankfulness is the order of the day, I want to be thankful for all those in my world. I want to remember, when someone annoys me, or does something differently than I would, or makes me downright mad, that, as my friend Mike Dooley so wisely says: “People are always doing the best they can, with what they’ve got, from where they are.” Regardless of what anyone else thinks of how they’re going about things.

That includes you, and me. And everyone else. To look at oneself and others as doing the best they can in that moment is humbling. It kicks in my compassion, my patience, and reminds me to try to understand others, rather than knee-jerk into criticism or blame.

And for that, I am deeply, truly thankful.