Exultation

In a workshop last week it was suggested that if you’re looking for some fresh perspective or to start the flow of new ideas you should invite someone you don’t like to lunch.  We all laughed, of course, at this crazy notion and continued to make jokes about the idea throughout the afternoon, cautioning each other to be wary of the hidden meaning behind future invitations to nosh. I had to think twice, though, when it cropped up again in this HBR Blog called “A Simple Way to Increase Your Joy” http://blogs.hbr.org/schwartz/2012/12/a-simple-way-to-increase-your-joy.html?utm_source=Socialflow&utm_medium=Tweet&utm_campaign=Socialflow.

The idea that people we don’t like often reflect the parts of ourselves that we most abhor is not new.  Even with those closest to us we seem to have a laser focus on weaknesses rooted in ourselves.  I find when raising my kids that I attack the behaviors in them I’d most like to change in me.  At the office I have a special place in my heart for the highly skilled yet tentative ingénues, rushing to coach these young women into confidence so they can capitalize on their talents much earlier in their careers than I did. Maybe this phenomenon is the reason we all eagerly subscribe to the old adage “opposites attract”.  The farther away we get from our weaknesses and imperfections, the easier it is to sweep them under the rug.

The author of the HBR blog suggests that when we attempt to connect and find the good in someone we inherently dislike, that we practice compassion for ourselves.  If we can allow ourselves to appreciate, even enjoy, the great qualities in this other person doesn’t it stand to reason that we could then accept that we are still loveable in spite of those things we find less than desirable about ourselves, those places where we think we don’t measure up?

The blur of holiday season preparation can cause us to forget that we’re only human.  Instead of enjoying Christmas carols, we’re all tuned into the Greek Chorus that heckles on in our heads, reminding us of everything we’re not doing.  We’re overburdened, making our lists, squeezing more tasks in the name of holiday cheer into already packed days and nights, frantically attempting to “be done” before a looming deadline we have no hope of extending.  A friend recently suggested that to lighten the holiday load instead of checking our lists twice we should tear them in half, effectively tossing out 50% of everything we think we need to do to make the season bright. 

Sounds like a great way to start showing a little kindness to yourself. How much of your list is about what feels like obligations?  Are you performing certain rituals out of pure joy or habit or tradition?  Would anyone notice if you stopped?   

I’ve decided I’m keeping the portion of my list that makes me happy.  Our Christmas tree is devoid of ornaments; I’m going with a glittering star and a blaze of white lights. My theory is that if I’m not wrapped up in a flurry of frustrating holiday busy work I’ll be able to find compassion for those in my life, including myself, who could use it.  And I’ll have the time to take someone I don’t like to lunch.  Beware.