dear friends,
When I started this newsletter one of my main goals was to test whether the idea of living gently had legs for anyone but me. Sure, I spent an entire year from the spring of 2020 to the spring of 2021 testing weekly practices centered on gentleness — which became the basis for a manuscript my agent thought would garner interest from publishers — but I remained skeptical. The idea that the intention to be gentle in everything from debates about politics to workout routines seemed, well, simplistic. And even though my commitment to living gently hasn’t faltered since those early days of the pandemic, I couldn’t help but wonder if the benefits I was experiencing had more to do with my own peculiarities than with gentleness itself. I worried the message wouldn’t resonate. I also feared that if I committed to writing about living gently every week for a year, I’d realize that the concept lacked depth.
Well, a few weeks ago the universe gave me some great test cases: the first was well beyond my control, and the second was a good, old-fashioned mess-up for which I was entirely responsible. Neither one of these challenges are big deals in the grand scheme of life, but I think that is exactly what makes them such perfect examples of how gentleness not only is a well-spring of power to persist, but is also a source of generosity and equanimity that radiates to others.
The first problem happened, rather ironically, right after I wrote the piece “intentional online interaction, at a human pace.” My Facebook account was hacked in a weird backdoor way with a mystery linked account to Instagram which, so far, has yet to be resolved. Second, in an effort to live up to the promise of sending a missive on Sunday mornings, I scheduled “enoughness, how asking one simple question cultivates intentionality and confidence” to hit your inboxes last Sunday while I was away on a family trip. I managed to bungle that. It went out on a random Wednesday. I’m sorry!
So, what did I learn in the midst of life not going to plan?
(1) You can be firm and gentle. My first reaction to the FB suspension was aargghhh mixed with ggrrrrrr. I was irritated and annoyed. Facebook is my biggest source of new readers for this newsletter. Losing my ability to connect with a community of people looking for a gentler way to live in this world is a bit of a blow. But the fact that it is a blow — that it matters to me — is also a chance to walk the walk: being frustrated and angry doesn’t entitle me to treat others poorly. Now, I’m not going to pretend that navigating the labyrinthine appeals process is fun. It has yet to yield results, but staying grounded in gentleness has left me without the bad aftertaste of being rude to a stranger. Before each opportunity I had to to reach out to a Meta person (or AI-bot), I paused to remind myself that I value putting good energy into the world. When your energy is clean, you can be forthright without being rude. That’s a real superpower because almost all of us like honesty and few of us respect rudeness.
(2) When you’re the one who messed up, be honest, then let the moment connect you with humanity. When I realized I had botched the Substack scheduling, I was embarrassed and humbled. There was no way I could make things the way I wish they were. Instead of letting my harsh inner critic berate me for hours/days/weeks, I acknowledged that she has a role (I clearly wasn’t paying close enough attention to the little pre-schedule buttons), and then I thought of all the other humans on the planet who have also made mistakes. I felt connected to all of them. None of us wants to flub something, but we all do from time to time. Being kind to ourselves and others when we make mistakes doesn’t lower the bar, it raises it because when you’re honest about life, you can learn from it. Hiding mistakes and harshly criticizing yourself and others makes you less likely to try new things and makes it difficult to improve.
(3) Move on. However you can, as often as needed. If you’re like me, you’ll revisit the mistake or problem from time to time until it’s resolved or you find another way forward. Each time I find myself ruminating, I say, “This is the practice, be gentle to yourself, Alison.” Find whatever phrase or phrases works for you to keep you from getting stuck. Life isn’t about perfection, it’s about handling what comes your way with grace, goodwill and a smile.
That’s it for this week! I hope your life goes to plan, but if something goes skiwampus, take comfort in knowing you have a whole community of us who either are there right now or have been —and will be again. We’re all wishing you a quick resolution…and in the meantime, a little grace and humor.
warmly,
alison
*Skiwampus is a word I grew up with in 1970s Utah. Apparently, it’s not as universal as I thought, but means pretty much what you probably think it does: off-kilter, not quite correct, askew.
