Anniversary

“Kind words are a creative force, a power that concurs in the building up of all that is good, and energy that showers blessings upon the world.” – Lawrence G Lovasik

I know it’s not the right day to post (it’s normally Wednesday, for reference), and I know I haven’t posted in awhile (with good reason, I promise…and again soon, I promise). Today, though, in 2014, the inspiration and impetus for this blog, Morris “Moose” Fontenot, left this world.

I’ve spoken of him many times, but please, read more about the essence of who he was here and here. I’ll always remember how I felt around my dear friend, and it’s those feelings that I strive to embody as we cultivate stories of impact over here. When I work on a story with its teller, I both strive to keep the authenticity of the story itself while keeping Moose’s impact moving forward, too.

Today, on another anniversary of his passing, there is so much going on in the world. If you are in harm’s way due to hurricane, or a pandemic, or one of the many giant wildfires, or paining over whether or not to send your kid to school, or deeply grieving about division regarding systemic racism…please know that there is a deep, heartfelt electronic sending of love from here. And it is my hope that anyone who stops here can pause, and reflect, and have a moment of relief from suffering, as well as resolve to be a part of the solution to relieve suffering.

My nephew (in the interest of privacy, I won’t specify which one), has been dragging his feet in school lately. When his mom finally, lovingly coaxed out of him the source of the issue, it centered around an art project. Mind you, this is NOT an advanced art class or a graduate-level assignment. His teacher told him, in fairly blunt terms, that his art drawing wasn’t good.

That night, he painstakingly continued to work on the project, adding more color as his instructor had recommended. I picture him, tongue to side in deep concentration, awkward little hands around his crayons. Hesitant, he showed the work to his teacher, who said it still wasn’t great, but that they were out of time and needed to move on.

Admittedly, I’ve only heard one side of the story here, and you may question its relevance in light of today’s post. But humor me and break this thing down. First, I’m sending love to this teacher. I don’t know what this person’s morning looked like, nor do I know the herculean effort this person is putting in to simultaneously work scenarios in person and virtually in an ever-changing environment and likely on pay that barely makes ends meet, all the while likely worried about their own children. I acknowledge the suffering that may have been associated in this harried moment. Second, though…I’m so, so viscerally aware of the impact of those words to little ears. Rest assured, I don’t think kids deserve trophies for everything. I promise. But our words can be devastating OR vitally developmental…and the difference, often, is a deep breath and a pause. I know it’s not always so simple—but sometimes, truly, it is.

There are a lot of uncontrollables in life—now, more than ever, we’re aware of that truth. But today, in honor of Moose, I ask you to do two things with one element of control you have—your words:

1. Pause. Take a deep breath. If you’re having a tough moment and about to say something you regret [I’m here, doing the same, and wishing I’d done more of the same early on, friends], take an extra beat.
2. Think of one person who has positively impacted you in a small way…this week, yesterday, or always. Get on the phone, or text, or private message, or at the breakfast table, or zoom…whatever. Tell them. Tell them how they positively impacted you for good. It doesn’t have to be something grandiose or fancy. Every time my husband makes a run for the coffee pot, for example, he always does a drive by pour of coffee for me, too. I’m so grateful. He just did it. I just told him. See how easy that was? Notice how you feel for THINKING about whatever gesture you’re grateful for. Notice if it affects him/her/them, too. Rinse and repeat if you’re feeling sassy and ambitious today. Huge bonus points if you direct some of those thoughts to yourself, too.

Thank you for humoring me, and more important, thank you for honoring Moose. Thank you for knowing that our words have meaning, and while we can’t take them back, we can ease the suffering of others (and ourselves) going forward.

If you’ve read this far, I’d love to hear what you said, and how you felt, if you feel inclined to share in the comments below. Sending a huge helping of love, friends.