Like any good Midwesterner I’m an expert at ruining a compliment. Good writing? Grammatical errors, inconsistencies, poor construction. Nice outfit? On sale, threw it together, this shirt has a stain that’s hard to see. Good play? Got lucky, finally did something right. Reflecting on this is agonizing because it’s obvious thievery. I’ve robbed a moment of its goodness, and I’ve robbed a compliment of its purpose. For me this denial is rooted in fear. Fear to enjoy success in case it is fleeting, fear to soak in the good lest it make me prideful. Lately, I’ve been attempting to say, “thank you”. Or “you’re welcome” or smile when someone acknowledges my efforts rather than staring sheepishly at the floor or explaining why they are wrong. Christmas is a great time to practice this because more terrifying gifts, compliments and encouragements seem to fly at me than any other time of year. All this warm fuzziness wants to bubble up, and I’m trying to swat it back before I let it all the way into my heart. But, what if I embrace it? What if I treasure these feelings and let them direct the way I practice and speak? Luke closes out the Christmas story with these words, “Mary treasured these things and pondered them in her heart.” Mary took it all in—the rejoicing shepherds, the stable birth, the star of Bethlehem. She treasured it; she thought about it repeatedly. A few chapters later in Luke's account of the sermon on the mount Jesus says, “A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart… the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.” When the fruit is good, and I soak up the goodness, I am much more likely to repeat than if I brush it aside. There should be no shame or guilt in enjoying the pleasure from praise or pausing for elation from a milestone achievement. It encourages fixation on positivity and repetition rather than negativity and failure. C.S. Lewis said it best in the “Pride” chapter of Mere Christianity, “Pleasure in being praised is not pride. The child who is patted on the back for doing a lesson well, the woman whose beauty is praised by her lover, the saved soul to whom Christ says, ‘Well done’ are pleased and ought to be.” Contemporary neuroscientists agree with these ideas. Dr. Rick Hanson, a psychiatrist and best-selling author encourages people to pause and embrace wonderful moments. “Savor the experience. It’s delicious! Make it last by staying with it for 5, 10, even 20 seconds; don’t let your attention skitter off to something else. The longer that something is held in awareness and the more emotionally stimulating it is, the more neurons that fire and thus wire together, and the stronger the trace in memory. . . . if someone is good to you, let the feeling of being cared about bring warmth to your whole chest. Pay particular attention to the rewarding aspects of the experience—for example, how good it feels to get a great big hug from someone you love.” Here is the truth: the sneaky lie saying I should not let those nice, warm, wholesome things sink all the way in, comes from a negative place. It’s a lie preventing positivity from making deep roots in my heart. It’s a lie hindering goodness in my actions and my words. When I store up those glowing moments and expand my capacity for happiness, I expand the stores from which I deliver love. If I only accept the love I believe I deserve I'll have little love to pass along. And when it seems love has dried up I will be quick to jump to insecurity and despair. The trick is to accept but not expect. Expectation ruins Christmas. Acceptance makes it radiant. More on expecting and accepting another time. For now, dear reader, happy holy days! I encourage you to let goodness happen. Soak it in. Treasure it, and let it fuel your actions and your words.
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I'm a Hoosier. I like the outdoors. Taxes are my job. I write for a living. This Blog
Writing my way to an adult life of minimalism, sustainability, and joy rooted in Truth. I'm learning, unlearning, and relearning.
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