New Year, New Beginning, New Best Practices

Having a new year is a wonderful, temporal reason to set out goals and imagine new beginnings. I know that we can start new habits or decide to change an attitude any time of the year, but having a brand new, clean calendar makes the possibilities of change more tangible. I have decided this year I am going to work on three major shifts: (1) Being kinder to myself when out and about talking to people; (2) Leaning in, even when it’s uncomfortable, asking others if they need help; (3) Asking for help.

(1) Talking too much and being mad. I have a very, very bad habit when I meet new people, such as running into a neighbor walking my dog, and after a little chat, leaving the encounter thinking, “They probably think I am boring, and I talked too much.” I know this thought process comes from the way I was raised. My Dad warned me over and over again that I talked too much, and it would cause my downfall one day. I remember my grandmother, who was one of my favorite souls on earth, used to pay me a nickel to be quiet for just five minutes. It was funny at the time, and we still laugh about being paid to be quiet, but I know I talk a lot and am constantly worried that I’ve said too much once again and get really mad at myself.

I watched a great show on Netflix about a Chinese woman who taught manners, and one of her shows made the point that a person should not talk more than 30 seconds without stopping and allowing another person to talk. If you are telling a story, it should never go longer than two minutes. Otherwise, it is very rude, and you are probably getting to be BORING.

So I am thinking I will make up some rules of talking decorum for when I talk to people. I will ask questions, listen, offer short responses when asked how I am doing, and have a new mantra after meeting someone to say in my head, “That was a nice conversation. That was a nice conversation…” And not think negative thoughts, beating myself up. (This is going to be a tough best practice.)

(2) Leaning in, even when it’s an uncomfortable conversation. One of the regrets I have is when a wonderful neighbor of mine had a brain tumor, and was very sick, I didn’t go visit. I really liked him. He was an architect who lived next to my office house. My office was an old home built in 1895 and whenever I was working on weekends, he would talk to me from his side of the wall about my remodeling, his art, the beehives behind his property, or whatever was going on in Bankers Hill. When he was diagnosed with the brain tumor, his wife told me he was very sick. She was so sad. I wanted to visit him, but I didn’t know if I would be in the way, make them uncomfortable because I was obviously sad, which might make them more sad, and didn’t know what I would say. So I did nothing.

I was reading a wonderful opinion piece in the New York Times this morning, “Two Lessons From an Ancient Text That Changed My Life,” by Sharon Brous. She writes about an ancient pilgrimage described within the Mishnah, a Jewish text which is a written collection of oral knowledge, and this is really old, around the third century (reminding me once again people do not change), which reads: “When your heart is broken, when you feel lost and alone and inclined to retreat, you show up. You entrust your pain to the community.” It describes a twice-a-year event wherein people in the community will line up and walk in a circle clockwise; but those people who were brokenhearted, sick, or mourning would walk counterclockwise. A person walking counterclockwise “against the stream” would encounter a person walking clockwise, and the person walking clockwise would ask, “What happened to you? Why does your heart ache?” The person walking counterclockwise would give an answer such as, “My child died too young. I child should never die before a parent,” or, “My wife left me…” The reply to the sad person would be, in my mind, in 2024, something like, “You are going to be okay. You are not alone. You have your neighbors, family. I am so sorry for what happened…”

Reading the article, it teaches me to lean in to approaching difficult conversations and even begin with a question like, “Tell me about your sorrow.” Listening is enough. There are no magic words when trying to comfort someone. Words are not what’s important sometimes, but really listening and asking questions, letting the person talk about the past and their memories is perfect.

(3) Asking for help! I was at Sprouts last month trying to figure out how to label the little white twist-ties that people use when buying seeds and nuts from the bins. I admit I felt very incompetent, because every time I tried to pull off one twist-tie, I brought down the whole contraption. I was breaking Sprouts. A big part of me wanted to give up and go home. But luckily an older woman woman who had an easy smile came up next to me looking for pecans. I showed her the pecans bin, and then I asked for help, “How do you pluck off a single twist-tie?” She happily showed me. I thanked her and she said, “You know, I used to be a teacher. Now I work with Hospice patients, and the one thing that I have learned is that people who know how to ask for help die happier than those who never learned how to. It would be really beneficial to children if parents teach them at a young age to ask for help or if people could learn at any age.” I thanked her for sharing her wisdom with me, and it really sank in. I was ready to hear listen to her advice.

Growing up, I was taught asking for help was a sign of weakness or embarrassing. “What do you mean you don’t know how to clean out the lint trap in the dryer? What’s wrong with you? Everyone knows how to do that.” When I started a company at the age of 25, I thought if I asked too many questions, people might think I am incompetent or just plain dumb.

I have learned that asking for help not only gets me answers, but also allows me to accomplish more. For example, in the garden “What is wrong with my lemon tree? It has yellow leaves.”; playing the guitar “How do I bar the F so it sounds good?”; and trapping a soccer ball, “How do I get better at trapping?”

What’s really great is when I ask for help or advice, the person giving it feels really happy. It is a definite win-win.

Well, that summarizes some of my goals for 2024. With age does come some wisdom, as a 63-year-old, I am happy to shift one day at a time, taking baby steps, maybe failing here and there, but my desire is to implement these three best practices in my life.

Happy New Year, Everyone!