Call Me Crazy But...

Call me crazy but the last 6 months have been dystopian, right?

Oh good, another COVID conversation, right? Say it with me, HARD PASS. 
Let's not go there.

I want to talk about something uplifting for a change. Let's all take a step out of this Mad Max/Lord of the Flies hellscape for a few and talk about something that doesn't necessitate blood pressure meds or Prince Valium. 

Okay, so I grew up in the midwest, and let me tell you "Midwest Nice" is a real thing. Where I'm from we're so nice we're practically Canadian. In my case it's true. I'm French Canadian on my mother's side. Anyway, we're the I'll-apologize-if-you-hit-me-with-your-car kind of nice. Bordering on creepy, codependent nice. You get the picture. Of course, then I moved to Manhattan and my dark and twisty side found the home it never knew. But I digress...

So, here I am, a midwesterner—turned New Yorker—turned Floridian where I have been hoping to sweat my way to a thigh gap for 20 years. (No such luck.) 

I have a healthy—albeit weird—personality. I wish everyone could get along, while simultaneously wishing people could take a  joke without getting their undies in a bunch, and I confess to muttering under my breath when people don't move fast enough. Tall order? Sure. Sorry, I'm a patchwork quilt of personalities and inconsistencies,  but aren't we all?

Lately, I find myself wishing that people would evolve emotionally enough to appreciate—instead of being offended, threatened, or angered—by our differences. I love that people are naturally a Pantone chart of colors, cultures, and personalities. I can't help but wonder, what if we spent as much time trying to appreciate our myriad of similarities as we do drawing proverbial lines in the sand over our differences? 

One of my new favorite moves lately is Wine Country. It was directed by Amy Poehler and features women who either starred in or wrote for Saturday Night Live. You know, back when it was funny. (Now you know how old I am. We all think our generation is the funniest.) The movie is rated R mostly due to language. Hey, if you can get together with your old college buds and resist getting a little potty mouthy, you're a better person than I am. 
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Gold star for you.

It's full of a lot of truths about friendship, relationships, aging, and life in general. At one point Tina Fey's character makes a side comment that rings true.
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She says:

The Wifi is very slow, so you're just going to have to talk to each other while drinking a ton of wine. What could go wrong? Just remember, guys, whatever gets said it's probably what the person has always felt, and the alcohol just let it out."

Funny because it's true, right?
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I think the same can be said for this pandemic. Take fear, political and social unrest, an abundance of conflicting information, financial stress, and a lot more time together—or apart—and LOOK OUT!
This year sure feels a lot like we're going through all the phases of a good night gone bad, sponsored by alcohol.

While many things have happened this year that are downright awful, the irritating "Midwest Nice" in me wants—NEEDS—to see the silver lining.

Relationships have ended. This is sad, but maybe something that wasn't working, yet would have been prolonged, was pushed into action. I've seen relationships end and others strengthen.

I have ZERO interest in getting political in this email, but I will say that more people seem to care about the value of their vote now more than ever, and maybe that too is a good thing.

I will also NOT be getting religious in this email, but I feel people of faith have been put to the test. You can decide for yourself, but I think the "talkers" and the "doers" become abundantly clear, especially in times of crisis.

It's so hard to be kind and respectful, especially when the world is in crisis, but we must. Small kindnesses can have big results. Imagine calling a friend and just listening. No giving advice or waiting for our turn to share. Just listening. For an hour. What a gift!

How about pausing, looking an essential worker in the eyes and saying "Thank you" before moving on. Or tipping a little bigger for a delivery that lets you stay home? The possibilities are endless and my "Midwest Nice" has been looking for opportunities to do little things that add up.
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"Be the change you want to see in the world." may sound corny, but it's true. My inspiration for listening and helping—something I try to do in my work each day—came from my childhood hero, Mr. (Fred) Rogers. It's easy to look at the world and feel helpless, but you aren't. You can help. You can bloom right where you're planted. My husband always says, "The mission field is right outside your front door.", and I think he's right. Maybe it's not about fixing the world, but making just one person believe in their value, just for today. Such an incredibile gift, and you have it right inside you.

Thanks for reading and taking the time to consider these little ideas of mine. Like you, I've tried to keep busy and find my new normal. Nothing is fodder for the creative process like difficulty, and I—like so many of you—have had my share of late. 

I've been pouring my heart into my next book, which ended up having a pretty "on-theme" topic. I'll be releasing my sequel poetry collection, Pain is My Spirit Animal, this fall. The concept explores how we as humans experience pain in four areas: mind, body, heart, and soul. Writing and editing with this year as a backdrop made the task both challenging and cathartic. 

If you'd like to join my beta reading team or my book launch team, drop me a line and let's do this!

Stay tuned as this bad boy should be hitting the shelves this October! Details to follow. ​

In the meantime, I hope you'll be encouraged to hang on, to share your time with another person, and make someone else feel supported, loved, or appreciated. It's an invaluable gift and even better, it's free.

Be well.

​Until next time,
G.G.