Really Nice?

I was telling my husband about a mutual friend who just was given a gift of a three week Mediterranean Cruise. This was right after she was given a car by someone else. I was saying that this was so great for her.

I actually meant it…no, really, I did. I checked in with my self to make certain that I was not being snarky. ( Snarky is acting happy when I am really jealous according to my personal definition of snarky.)

I absently said to him…Nobody ever gives me gifts like that. He said that is because you are nice. Our mutual friend is kind.

I shot up from my complacent seat with “ What do you mean by that?” Since he refused to answer and escalate the discussion into a full time brawl, I was left to obsess about nice Vs kind.

The Webster’s dictionary definition of kind is: a : of a sympathetic or helpful nature b : of a forbearing nature : gentle c : arising from or characterized by sympathy or forbearance

Nice:a : pleasing, agreeable b : well-executed c : appropriate, fitting, socially acceptable : well-bred,virtuous, respectable, polite, AND kind

He was right. I am not kind…I AM nice. And it’s okay with me. You see, nice doesn’t leave out kind…although mostly according to the dictionary placement of the word “kind” its certainly an afterthought more than the lead in way of being.

It would be very kind of you to give me a car and a cruise…I will thank you in the nicest way possible.

 

 

 

Mindfulness

Today’s guest post is by Sue McClam.  When not in the United States, Sue spends a a great deal of the winter months in Huatulco where she teaches her language courses.  She has a Master of Arts in Teaching Spanish, and has recently retired after 22 years of teaching at Columbia College in South Carolina. http://www.huatulcolanguagecourses.com

When I am here in Mexico, I take my time.  I put into practice what the Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh tells us about being mindful. I try to remember that “when I am walking, I am walking.”  I am present to the sights and sounds of the street, the smell of the flowers, the cracks in the sidewalk.  I take a minute to greet my neighbors as they pass by.  At home in the US, when I hit the ground in the morning I am already planning my day, three steps ahead.

When I am in the US, I drive a car, my own car.  I drive to my destination, complete my errand and return home.  Once I close the door, it is highly likely I will not have anyone “popping over” to say hi unless we are on one another’s “to do” list. And when we do find the time to meet, there will be a limit to our time together as pressing schedules will disrupt the conversation just as we settle in.

I will think, as my friend pulls away…in Mexico we would have talked until we were finished.  We would not have planned to meet for a specific amount of time or “fit one another in.” Here when I meet someone after work by chance or by design, I do not have a set plan or time allotment in mind.  We let the evening unfold. If it’s the weekend that could mean hours under a palapa at the beach, a long meal, a drink (that always includes a limón) and perhaps a walk or a swim as the sun goes down.  I do not check my watch. I do not schedule three events for one day. When we are there, we are there; we are not planning the next thing.

As author Wayne Muller puts it, “Life is not a problem to be solved; it is a gift to be opened.  The color of the sky, the song of a bird, a word of kindness, a strain of music, the sun on your face, the companionship of friends, the shape of clouds in summer, the red of maples in fall — these and a thousand tiny miracles punctuate a single day in a precious human life. If we are so preoccupied with plotting our future success or failures, we unintentionally impoverish ourselves by ignoring the astonishing harvest of these small gifts, piled one upon the other, that accumulate without our awareness or acknowledgment.”

Perhaps this time when I return in May, I will concentrate on being mindful in the US too.

Mangoes and Fear

OK, I admit it.  I am afraid of mangoes.

They sit on my kitchen counter mocking me with their come hither orange skin and plump bodies.

I like to eat mangoes.

It’s peeling and cutting them open that scares the pants off me.  Think about it, mangoes are slippery when they are peeled and skitter away while to gleaming knife comes very close to stabbing you in the chest.

I have been told countless techniques that other use to peel mangoes but I fail miserably to have the glorious success that others crow about with huge grins.

I have come to a conclusion that I must take the risk and admit my fear.  Usually someone is kind enough just to peel and cut them for me….usually, they do it without an ounce of pity in their eyes or even disdain.

I think if you tell the truth to someone about a fear or a concern that they will help you if they know something about that subject.

We have been so trained to face our fear, cowboy up, put on our big girl pants or some such that we are now afraid to admit to anyone that we are sometimes afraid

or that yes, we could use some of their expertise.

I think its fine to admit fear or concern.

I have found a new freedom by doing so.

My life has become richer by the kindness of others who don’t have that particular fear.  Maybe just maybe, they will allow me to help them when they are stuck.  It would give me great pleasure.

 

 

 

 

What the Mexican kitten taught me…

I am in a yoga class in Mexico that has many visitors – some are human and some are animals and insects and reptiles and, and…you get the picture.

The other day right in the middle of yoga class and kitten walked in…the door was open…so why not?  She came up to me in the middle of a forward fold and said: “Hello!  I have fleas and I am hungry”.

This was one educated kitten.  In Mexico, you are educated if you have good manners and this cat did.  She saw that there were many other students in the class.  She didn’t ignore anyone, and put away her needs to say “Hello!” to each and every.  Actually, I am not too sure what she was telling them because I continued into downward facing dog posture.

She came back to me.  Sat down to wait until I was finished with my work.

What did this little creature teach me?

It isn’t rude to enter an open door even if you aren’t invited as long as you acknowledge everyone and wait your turn.

She came in to class because she wanted something.  She properly greeted every student.  She waited her turn for attention.

It made me think about how I am with people.

Do I wait for the door to open?

Do I clearly ask for what I want?

When I want something, do I just charge forward NOT paying attention to others?  Probably.

Do I acknowledge others in the same room?

Not always. 

Do I wait my turn for attention?

NO!  I want what I want when I want it. 

This is the kind of education, I get in Mexico…this is what life here is all about…even the creatures can teach  – If you let them.