Our first serious winter storm in several years is headed toward Washington. By early afternoon tomorrow, the snow should have started, and into Sunday night, sleet will fall. After volunteering at a local theatre this afternoon, I headed out, like many Washingtonians, to run errands and purchase provisions. By the time I dragged my parcels in a few hours later, I was hungry and tired, and my feet ached.
I am sure that there were preparatory activities of which I wasn't aware before the winter storms of my childhood, and I am also confident that, living in the Midwest where winter storms are inevitable, regular, and more significant, my family took the weather more in stride. Washington is winter weather skittish. (The story is that during their first winter in Washington the Obama daughters, accustomed to severe Midwestern weather, were incredulous the first time schools closed for a dusting of snow.)
Despite those realities, this afternoon, I reflected with reverie on the winter storms of my childhood. Weather was less predictable then (or at least, I didn't know the forecasts,) and winter storms sort of showed up as a surprise one morning without warning. I can remember my mother whispering in my ear as I slept, "It snowed last night."
Never a morning person, I would normally loll around as long as I possibly could, but those four magic words would send me bolting from bed to jump into snow clothes and head out to play. I confess that when I was over 50 that I can remember something similar when it snowed at my home in North Carolina. I was grateful for the 7-year-old next door who I could use as an excuse for taking a few hours off from work to play in the snow.
The best winter storms were the ones that were too severe for my dad to go to work, and he would play in the snow with us. The highlight was when he would make "snow cream," an ice cream-like concoction that he would whip up in the mixer with snow, sugar, milk, and vanilla. We loved it. The very best was just having down time with the family. All plans were cancelled. We couldn't go out except to play in the snow or shovel paths. There wasn't much to do except romp in the snow, play games, drink hot chocolate, eat snow cream, and make grilled cheese sandwiches. Quality family time.
As nostalgic as it was, sadly that time is passed. Today when I thought about this winter storm, I was glad that I had worked off-site on Friday and had my computer at home in case a storm kept us home on Monday. Now instead of an unplanned holiday of quality time with family, a storm simply means that I work from home instead of going to the office.
I am not sure that we can ever replace those spontaneous holidays, but when I came in this evening hungry, tired, and with aching feet, for an instant my mind time-traveled back decades and slipped into a hot-chocolate-snow-cream-and-snowmen moment. There were many things about that era that were no so nice, so I wouldn't say that I'd like to go back, but just for tomorrow afternoon, I'd like to slip back to a spontaneous holiday moment.
Saturday, December 7, 2013
Friday, December 6, 2013
Reconciliation
Once or twice a century the world is blessed with a truly wise leader. Yesterday the world lost one of them when Nelson Mandela died.
Over 20 years after Mandela was released from 27 years in prison, I still find it mind-boggling that he was wise enough to respond to severe personal and societal repression by advocating a Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC.) The purpose of the TRC was to give thousands of people the opportunity to face their oppressors, for the oppressors to tell their stories, and most of the time to forgive each other.
Back in the day when I spoke at a lot of conferences, John Dawson and I both addressed a number of the same conferences. Dawson founded the International Reconciliation Coalition in 1990. (http://reconciled1.com/international-reconciliation-coalition-overview/) His organization is founded on religious conviction, but the reconciliation ceremonies that he led around the world often addressed secular ills from mistreatment of Native Americans to abused women. The purpose of his work was to provide an opportunity to injured peoples to hear an apology for their pain, and by so doing, allowed the oppressed to move beyond their pain.
Reconciliation is a powerful concept: the end of a conflict between disputing people or groups without retaliation. In the Roman Catholic Church reconciliation is a sacrament whereby a person confesses his or her sins and offers penance to be absolve of misdeeds. Whether part of a church sacrament or a secular ritual like the TRC, reconciliation is God's opportunity for us to admit we could do better, to be sorry, and to be forgiven, and by so doing, we return to God.
Mandela provides me with a powerful example or forgiveness and reconciliation. If a man who was imprisoned for decades can forgive and reconcile, then most certainly I have nothing that should stand in my way of doing the same.
Over 20 years after Mandela was released from 27 years in prison, I still find it mind-boggling that he was wise enough to respond to severe personal and societal repression by advocating a Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC.) The purpose of the TRC was to give thousands of people the opportunity to face their oppressors, for the oppressors to tell their stories, and most of the time to forgive each other.
Back in the day when I spoke at a lot of conferences, John Dawson and I both addressed a number of the same conferences. Dawson founded the International Reconciliation Coalition in 1990. (http://reconciled1.com/international-reconciliation-coalition-overview/) His organization is founded on religious conviction, but the reconciliation ceremonies that he led around the world often addressed secular ills from mistreatment of Native Americans to abused women. The purpose of his work was to provide an opportunity to injured peoples to hear an apology for their pain, and by so doing, allowed the oppressed to move beyond their pain.
Reconciliation is a powerful concept: the end of a conflict between disputing people or groups without retaliation. In the Roman Catholic Church reconciliation is a sacrament whereby a person confesses his or her sins and offers penance to be absolve of misdeeds. Whether part of a church sacrament or a secular ritual like the TRC, reconciliation is God's opportunity for us to admit we could do better, to be sorry, and to be forgiven, and by so doing, we return to God.
Mandela provides me with a powerful example or forgiveness and reconciliation. If a man who was imprisoned for decades can forgive and reconcile, then most certainly I have nothing that should stand in my way of doing the same.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
The Forgiveness of All Humankind
Almost three months ago, I adopted a new set of eight spiritual statements upon which to focus my spiritual growth during this dark half of the year. At least several times a day, and sometimes many times a day, I say and reflect upon these affirmations. Something shifted yesterday. As I was saying them, suddenly one took on new meaning. I've had this happen before. My understanding has to get deep enough for me to truly "get it." I find it a bit like looking at something, which has been in the shadows, but which the sun has finally reached: wow! all the color, dimension and intricacies that I missed when it was in the semi-darkness.
Yesterday, the statement "My work is the forgiveness of all humankind" shifted. Since I write, speak, and coach, I have been thinking that I was supposed to encourage people with whom I come in contact to forgive people in their lives. The idea, I thought, was that if enough people forgave enough others that eventually all humankind would be forgiven.
As I've sunk more and more deeply into this spiritual learning, a different meaning has revealed itself to me. To paraphrase, sometimes it is all about me. Yesterday's revelation was that I am supposed to forgive everyone with whom I have ever come in contact, no matter how big or small their grievance. At first doing so didn't really seem like such a big deal. I regularly "purge" myself of grudges, resentments, and anger with forgiveness. I don't think that I harbor much. People in my life who have committed egregious offenses have not only be forgiven but forgotten as well. I even forgive myself from time to time, although I admit that I am not nearly as good about self-forgiveness.
Consequently, I am not sure why forgiving all humankind seems like such big deal, besides the fact that "all humankind" is a whole boat load of people. As I've meditated on this, the spheres of influence on forgiveness have broadened. Not just people who have done things to me, but resentments I may carry about violations of others are included. Then, there was the wave about people who have committed destructive acts to the planet and even crimes against humanity. Of course, with my personal interest in politics, there are plenty of politicians that could do with some forgiving. There are also the historical violations of our individual and collective ancestors, such as slavery, the treatment of Native Americans in the US, and the near extinction of many species. You get the idea. The more I sit with it, the more I am able to see just how much in the world is to be forgiven.
I am certain that this forgiveness of all humankind is the work of a lifetime. I expect that in the time during which I forgive one or two that a dozen more acts will have been committed to be forgiven. If I really think about it, I am overwhelmed, so I just don't think about it...at least not in a worrisome way. If I did, I'd have to forgive myself for worrying. I am still trying to just be with how this plays out, but I sense that at the end, I will be back in that most alluring spot: being present. With nothing to pull me into the past or the future, here I am...now...present.
I believe I've mentioned before that spiritual teacher Carolyn Myss has said our most important spiritual work is to be present. As I explore the many dimensions of spiritual growth and learning, all roads seem to lead back to being present. It makes sense that if we get to the place where we can truly be present in the present, we would have mastered many other spiritual lessons along the way.
For now, it seems to me that the dimension of being present with which I am currently engaged is to forgive...and forgive...and forgive some more.
Yesterday, the statement "My work is the forgiveness of all humankind" shifted. Since I write, speak, and coach, I have been thinking that I was supposed to encourage people with whom I come in contact to forgive people in their lives. The idea, I thought, was that if enough people forgave enough others that eventually all humankind would be forgiven.
As I've sunk more and more deeply into this spiritual learning, a different meaning has revealed itself to me. To paraphrase, sometimes it is all about me. Yesterday's revelation was that I am supposed to forgive everyone with whom I have ever come in contact, no matter how big or small their grievance. At first doing so didn't really seem like such a big deal. I regularly "purge" myself of grudges, resentments, and anger with forgiveness. I don't think that I harbor much. People in my life who have committed egregious offenses have not only be forgiven but forgotten as well. I even forgive myself from time to time, although I admit that I am not nearly as good about self-forgiveness.
Consequently, I am not sure why forgiving all humankind seems like such big deal, besides the fact that "all humankind" is a whole boat load of people. As I've meditated on this, the spheres of influence on forgiveness have broadened. Not just people who have done things to me, but resentments I may carry about violations of others are included. Then, there was the wave about people who have committed destructive acts to the planet and even crimes against humanity. Of course, with my personal interest in politics, there are plenty of politicians that could do with some forgiving. There are also the historical violations of our individual and collective ancestors, such as slavery, the treatment of Native Americans in the US, and the near extinction of many species. You get the idea. The more I sit with it, the more I am able to see just how much in the world is to be forgiven.
I am certain that this forgiveness of all humankind is the work of a lifetime. I expect that in the time during which I forgive one or two that a dozen more acts will have been committed to be forgiven. If I really think about it, I am overwhelmed, so I just don't think about it...at least not in a worrisome way. If I did, I'd have to forgive myself for worrying. I am still trying to just be with how this plays out, but I sense that at the end, I will be back in that most alluring spot: being present. With nothing to pull me into the past or the future, here I am...now...present.
I believe I've mentioned before that spiritual teacher Carolyn Myss has said our most important spiritual work is to be present. As I explore the many dimensions of spiritual growth and learning, all roads seem to lead back to being present. It makes sense that if we get to the place where we can truly be present in the present, we would have mastered many other spiritual lessons along the way.
For now, it seems to me that the dimension of being present with which I am currently engaged is to forgive...and forgive...and forgive some more.
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Joy!
"Joy to the world
All the boys and girls now
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me."
That earworm of the song, which was popularized in 1970 by the Three Dog Night, has been playing in my head since I sat quietly and asked for guidance on writing this blog post. Hmmm! What am I to say? The song just keeps playing.
I wonder if it relates at all to an article that I read earlier this evening about the level of trust in the United States being at an all-time low. A major survey, which has been repeated for 40 years, reported that just about a third of people in the country think that they can trust most people. The article related the diminishing level of trust to less involvement in community organizations and activities, increased isolated television viewing, decline of traditional values, and the 24/7 news cycle. Not much joy in any of that.
The last couple of times I've played the Grocery Store Game (12/1/13) I've found that it is harder to connect than it used to be. Our electronics have significantly changed our lives. Until 3-4 years ago, I often had a conversation on the train with a random person. While I have no way of actually knowing whether I can trust the person more after a conversation, somehow that familiarity makes me think I can trust that person.
However, most days now most people are hunkered over their smartphones, iPads, or laptops with ear buds in place--safely "protected" from either visual or auditory contact.I literally cannot remember when I've said anything to anyone on the train other than, "Excuse me: this is my stop.) Even walking down the street, people are looking at their devices and shutting out sound. Lest you think I am anti-technology, I fully confess that I have been guilty of the above activity. While our devices give us the illusion of being connected, they actually have the opposite effect. We have become a siloed world instead of a connected one, when connection is what it takes to build trust, and it certainly encourages joy.
As the song suggests, joy comes from connecting with people and nature around us. For those who have taken the Grocery Store Game challenge, this is the important work we are taking on: bringing the intention of connection to our encounters, building trust and creating joy. This is good work we are doing. Ah! Joy to the world!
All the boys and girls now
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea
Joy to you and me."
That earworm of the song, which was popularized in 1970 by the Three Dog Night, has been playing in my head since I sat quietly and asked for guidance on writing this blog post. Hmmm! What am I to say? The song just keeps playing.
I wonder if it relates at all to an article that I read earlier this evening about the level of trust in the United States being at an all-time low. A major survey, which has been repeated for 40 years, reported that just about a third of people in the country think that they can trust most people. The article related the diminishing level of trust to less involvement in community organizations and activities, increased isolated television viewing, decline of traditional values, and the 24/7 news cycle. Not much joy in any of that.
The last couple of times I've played the Grocery Store Game (12/1/13) I've found that it is harder to connect than it used to be. Our electronics have significantly changed our lives. Until 3-4 years ago, I often had a conversation on the train with a random person. While I have no way of actually knowing whether I can trust the person more after a conversation, somehow that familiarity makes me think I can trust that person.
However, most days now most people are hunkered over their smartphones, iPads, or laptops with ear buds in place--safely "protected" from either visual or auditory contact.I literally cannot remember when I've said anything to anyone on the train other than, "Excuse me: this is my stop.) Even walking down the street, people are looking at their devices and shutting out sound. Lest you think I am anti-technology, I fully confess that I have been guilty of the above activity. While our devices give us the illusion of being connected, they actually have the opposite effect. We have become a siloed world instead of a connected one, when connection is what it takes to build trust, and it certainly encourages joy.
As the song suggests, joy comes from connecting with people and nature around us. For those who have taken the Grocery Store Game challenge, this is the important work we are taking on: bringing the intention of connection to our encounters, building trust and creating joy. This is good work we are doing. Ah! Joy to the world!
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Life's Little Surprises
A reader forwarded my challenge to change the world in 30 days (12/1/13) to a friend. The friend responded that her husband "wins at this game daily--and he didn't even know he was playing." What a gift this man has! And, dare I say, I suspect the wife is richly blessed by this relationship as well.
I have several spiritual practices that I've repeated periodically for most of 20 years: twice a year meditation retreat, gratitude journaling, gratitude meditation (9/24/13, 11/26/13,) rotating affirmations, and The Grocery Store Game (10/25/13). Sometimes they will go along predictably for many cycles, and just when I think I know what to expect, the Universe throws me a curve ball and gives me a new lesson to learn. I thank I can confidently say the curve balls have always been pleasant, just not what I expected.
My Thanksgiving gratitude meditation, which I've done for many years, for instance, took a new twist this year. I've usually counted on my memory to recall each day and its gifts. This year, I decided to enlist technology in my preparation. Before I began my meditation, I went through my Outlook and iPhone calendars for the year, and I made note of things all year. I can't say that I wouldn't have thought of all of them when I sat, but refreshing my memory was lovely. A number of times I found myself smiling and remembering a conversation warmly. Two friends--one across the country and the other in Canada--became standing conversation appointments. How they enriched my life last year. Having a reminder for lots of little things, like a new haircut/style and renting a car for a gardening adventure in March, was rich...a most pleasant surprise.
This afternoon, I had an Aha! moment about this round of The Grocery Store Game. In the past my connections have been with people I didn't know and usually non-verbal. I have had some of those, but to my delight today, I recognized that the game was surprising me this round. Most of my days at work are spent on a dead run. I think most people would say that I am friendly: I always smile and cheerfully greet people. Rarely, however, do I stop and talk to people as I move around the building. I did that several times today. At about 3:30 as I finished one such delightful conversation with someone I really don't know well, it occurred to me what was happening. I was getting to know people who in the past had only been superficial acquaintances. What a sweet surprise!
I love surprises, and I find it such a gift to let life deliver surprises to me when I least expect them. Even more a gift is being present enough to notice!
I have several spiritual practices that I've repeated periodically for most of 20 years: twice a year meditation retreat, gratitude journaling, gratitude meditation (9/24/13, 11/26/13,) rotating affirmations, and The Grocery Store Game (10/25/13). Sometimes they will go along predictably for many cycles, and just when I think I know what to expect, the Universe throws me a curve ball and gives me a new lesson to learn. I thank I can confidently say the curve balls have always been pleasant, just not what I expected.
My Thanksgiving gratitude meditation, which I've done for many years, for instance, took a new twist this year. I've usually counted on my memory to recall each day and its gifts. This year, I decided to enlist technology in my preparation. Before I began my meditation, I went through my Outlook and iPhone calendars for the year, and I made note of things all year. I can't say that I wouldn't have thought of all of them when I sat, but refreshing my memory was lovely. A number of times I found myself smiling and remembering a conversation warmly. Two friends--one across the country and the other in Canada--became standing conversation appointments. How they enriched my life last year. Having a reminder for lots of little things, like a new haircut/style and renting a car for a gardening adventure in March, was rich...a most pleasant surprise.
This afternoon, I had an Aha! moment about this round of The Grocery Store Game. In the past my connections have been with people I didn't know and usually non-verbal. I have had some of those, but to my delight today, I recognized that the game was surprising me this round. Most of my days at work are spent on a dead run. I think most people would say that I am friendly: I always smile and cheerfully greet people. Rarely, however, do I stop and talk to people as I move around the building. I did that several times today. At about 3:30 as I finished one such delightful conversation with someone I really don't know well, it occurred to me what was happening. I was getting to know people who in the past had only been superficial acquaintances. What a sweet surprise!
I love surprises, and I find it such a gift to let life deliver surprises to me when I least expect them. Even more a gift is being present enough to notice!
Monday, December 2, 2013
Living with Intention: It's about Priorities
I was talking with a colleague today about my gratitude meditation. She said, "I don't have time for meditation." I said , "It's not about time: it's about priorities."
This is a lesson I learned too well this weekend. I had almost finished with my preparations for The Game Called Life when the government shutdown ended on October 17. "One more day," I'd said, "and I would have been finished." So close, but in 40 days I hadn't made finishing the book a priority. Then, on Thanksgiving Day, by grace, all the families that I usually spend holidays with were away. Ah, I thought, this is my chance.
I wanted to start day with my gratitude meditation; then a walk seemed in order since it was a beautiful, if crisp, day. I am a cook; I couldn't allow this food holiday to pass without cooking and, of course, eating. Then, I watched a couple movies that I can't even recall now. By that time, I wrote my blog and fell into bed. Oops! No time for The Game Called Life. It's not about time: it's about priorities.
That evening after I brushed my teeth, I took a long look into the mirror. Kay, where are your priorities? Well, it is clear that they hadn't been with The Game Called Life.
Saturday morning I got up, got cleaned up, and before I would let myself do anything, I edited. I am truly embarrassed to say that in under three hours, I had the manuscript marked and changes made to the electronic copy. Three hours! In 40 days I hadn't made time for a three-hour task. Saturday I lived my priorities.
Living with intention is simply knowing what is important and putting it first, every single day. By the magnitude of a thousand small decisions, we create our lives. When we live with intention, our decisions are conscious ones, rather than ones made mindlessly by default, as I'd been doing frittering away time over the last 40 days.
You see, my colleague really was living intentionally. She has aging parents that she cares for and teen and young adult children. At this stage in her life, they are her priorities. Living with intention is living our priorities, and that is exactly what she is doing.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
This is a lesson I learned too well this weekend. I had almost finished with my preparations for The Game Called Life when the government shutdown ended on October 17. "One more day," I'd said, "and I would have been finished." So close, but in 40 days I hadn't made finishing the book a priority. Then, on Thanksgiving Day, by grace, all the families that I usually spend holidays with were away. Ah, I thought, this is my chance.
I wanted to start day with my gratitude meditation; then a walk seemed in order since it was a beautiful, if crisp, day. I am a cook; I couldn't allow this food holiday to pass without cooking and, of course, eating. Then, I watched a couple movies that I can't even recall now. By that time, I wrote my blog and fell into bed. Oops! No time for The Game Called Life. It's not about time: it's about priorities.
That evening after I brushed my teeth, I took a long look into the mirror. Kay, where are your priorities? Well, it is clear that they hadn't been with The Game Called Life.
Saturday morning I got up, got cleaned up, and before I would let myself do anything, I edited. I am truly embarrassed to say that in under three hours, I had the manuscript marked and changes made to the electronic copy. Three hours! In 40 days I hadn't made time for a three-hour task. Saturday I lived my priorities.
Living with intention is simply knowing what is important and putting it first, every single day. By the magnitude of a thousand small decisions, we create our lives. When we live with intention, our decisions are conscious ones, rather than ones made mindlessly by default, as I'd been doing frittering away time over the last 40 days.
You see, my colleague really was living intentionally. She has aging parents that she cares for and teen and young adult children. At this stage in her life, they are her priorities. Living with intention is living our priorities, and that is exactly what she is doing.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Could We Change the World in 30 Days?
December is officially upon us with the long dark days it brings on either side of the Winter Solstice. I've been thinking: what better time of the year to bring more light into our days than December? And, even better, what if we could change the world in the 30 days that remain? I just think it might be possible. Here's what I have in mind.
A little over a month ago, I wrote about The Grocery Store Game (The Grocery Store Game, 10/25/13) and then on Friday I shared conversations about the need of each of us to be treated with human dignity (Being the Change, 11/29/13.) I started thinking about what if everyone who reads this blog commits to playing The Grocery Store Game for the month of December. For those who didn't read the 10/25 post, the short version is that we use every interaction with others as an opportunity to create connection. The game gets its name from its origins with grocery store checkers and clerks. Look them in the eye, see their human dignity, and create a connection. You can do this with people on the phone, as well, just allow yourself to be present to the human being on the other end of the line.
Opportunities are literally everywhere. I had a brief conversation with a homeless man today, in which I connected. However, I failed to connect with a man who looked through me at church as he shook my hand while looking elsewhere. I was successful with the cashier at Bed, Bath, and Beyond. I can see treating co-workers, spouses, and children with human dignity. It doesn't cost anything. It really takes negligibly more time. All it takes is the intention to connect and respect our fellow human beings.
Of course, it would be great if we could spend the month of December connecting with the human dignity in everyone we interact with, but if that is a stretch, if we would just agree to connect with at least three people each day, what a difference we could make. Even better is to enlist others in the game. I suspect that there will be a multiplier effect during this month when many are so busy because we will be reversing a trend of non-connection.
When I am playing the game, I find it helpful at the end of each day to keep track of who I really connected with. (You don't need names. The produce clerk at Safeway will do.) Think of it as "keeping score," although everyone wins in this game. I also find that when I have "puny" days that I bring even more intention to the next day. In the next 30 days, if each reader connected with just three people, that would be 90 connections in the month per person. Consider 10-11 or 25 connections. You can do the math.
It is easy to think that we really can't do much to change the state of the world, but when I consider how many thousands of connections that this blog's readers can create in just one month, I am truly hopeful. Even better is that it takes 30 days of doing something consistently to form a habit. If each of you actually does this for the month of December, we could form a habit of interacting with others from human dignity.
I invite you play and share the game with friends...and share your stories about connection in comments. What a wonderful way to close 2013...and start a new way of being for 2014! Thanks for doing what you can do to change the world in 30 days.
A little over a month ago, I wrote about The Grocery Store Game (The Grocery Store Game, 10/25/13) and then on Friday I shared conversations about the need of each of us to be treated with human dignity (Being the Change, 11/29/13.) I started thinking about what if everyone who reads this blog commits to playing The Grocery Store Game for the month of December. For those who didn't read the 10/25 post, the short version is that we use every interaction with others as an opportunity to create connection. The game gets its name from its origins with grocery store checkers and clerks. Look them in the eye, see their human dignity, and create a connection. You can do this with people on the phone, as well, just allow yourself to be present to the human being on the other end of the line.
Opportunities are literally everywhere. I had a brief conversation with a homeless man today, in which I connected. However, I failed to connect with a man who looked through me at church as he shook my hand while looking elsewhere. I was successful with the cashier at Bed, Bath, and Beyond. I can see treating co-workers, spouses, and children with human dignity. It doesn't cost anything. It really takes negligibly more time. All it takes is the intention to connect and respect our fellow human beings.
Of course, it would be great if we could spend the month of December connecting with the human dignity in everyone we interact with, but if that is a stretch, if we would just agree to connect with at least three people each day, what a difference we could make. Even better is to enlist others in the game. I suspect that there will be a multiplier effect during this month when many are so busy because we will be reversing a trend of non-connection.
When I am playing the game, I find it helpful at the end of each day to keep track of who I really connected with. (You don't need names. The produce clerk at Safeway will do.) Think of it as "keeping score," although everyone wins in this game. I also find that when I have "puny" days that I bring even more intention to the next day. In the next 30 days, if each reader connected with just three people, that would be 90 connections in the month per person. Consider 10-11 or 25 connections. You can do the math.
It is easy to think that we really can't do much to change the state of the world, but when I consider how many thousands of connections that this blog's readers can create in just one month, I am truly hopeful. Even better is that it takes 30 days of doing something consistently to form a habit. If each of you actually does this for the month of December, we could form a habit of interacting with others from human dignity.
I invite you play and share the game with friends...and share your stories about connection in comments. What a wonderful way to close 2013...and start a new way of being for 2014! Thanks for doing what you can do to change the world in 30 days.
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