WordFood

WordFood - how we feed or starve our realtionships

- Julia Hubbel

Julia’s ability to get this group of type-A executives to engage in true networking was incredible. She is truly skilled at motivating the group to engage and interact with each other, and her openness and honesty really come through.

— Shelley Stewart, Jr.,
Senior Vice President of Operational Excellence and Chief Procurement Officer, Tyco

August 9, 2013

JunkFood We Feed Ourselves

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , , , — Julia Hubbel @ 5:01 pm

The other morning at 5 am, dressed in a neon bright pair of Lycra gym pants, mountain hiking boots and high socks, a weighted vest and bright pink shirt and a ball cap, I set out to do my 6.5 mile walk along the major roads near my house. Now this is to accomplish several things: break in my hiking boots, break in my feet to long hikes, build my endurance, and generally challenge my strength. Why? As mentioned earlier in this space, I have a forty mile hike to the summit of Mt. Kilimanjaro in November, and to do that well, you have to train for it. The best way to train for long hikes is to, well, hike. Since I’ll be carrying a 20-lb day pack, I don a weighted vest, the same one I wear to build leg strength out at Red Rocks when I climb the stairs.

So as the sun eased into the cloudy sky and I walked the sidewalk along the broad thoroughfares near my house, I bid good morning to fellow walkers, runners and cyclists. One man jerked his dog away from me when I spoke kindly to it. Two elderly women gave me the hairy eyeball when I cheerily bid them a good day.

At 6:12, I made out the sound of a siren. A female cop was waving me over, so I pulled out my earbuds and walked to her vehicle. She got out and as she approached, she started laughing. ” We got a call about a dangerous person in a bulletproof vest wandering the neighborhood,” she said. “Yah,” I said, “Some terrorist, in bright neon pants walking along all the major streets in full sight,” I chuckled.

Then I thought, how many people, terrified by overwrought police procedurals and Hollywood blockbusters, are aiming their double aughts at me from their kitchens without thinking? More than I want to know. So mid morning I was at the station with my vest, meeting the cops and giving them my ID. They are going to contact me first if there’s another fearful call, and give me fair warning about my neighbors, not the other way around. And I also just bought a bright orange safety vest.

The world changed for us after 9-11, but we also allow ourselves to be fed junk food through the programs we watch and radio we hear. Whether we are radicals or Republicans or regular Reggie, we take a diet of information that feeds our fears. If we believe we are in imminent danger, which most of us most assuredly are not, especially in my bucolic little Colorado neighborhood, then we’re likely to act out of unreasonable alarm. We don’t ask intelligent questions, like what operative would be wearing eye-searing colors and be on the major roads, or attack a calm little neighborhood when higher value targets are far more important, like the airport? Nobody thinks. We just react, out of fear. In my mind, this is how the terrorist has already won the war.

I’ve told this story to friends, who have shared both the laugh and the realization that this is the world we now live in. But everyone has a choice. What we feed ourselves, the pap that is on the talk radio shows, the overblown, overstated, out-of-proportion sensationalism that is presented as “facts” that have caused the average American to not trust his neighbor. I continue to believe in the intrinsic good of my neighbors and my country. But I shudder to think about how many of them have guns, and would have used them on me out of irrational panic yesterday morning.

Roosevelt said it years ago: “We have nothing to fear but fear itself.” That is even more true today than during the Second World War. It’s important to consider what Junk WordFood you’re feeding yourself. If that diet is causing you to stockpile guns, fear your neighbors, hate your government, call the cops on an athlete in training or lock yourself inside, well. I’d seriously consider the cost to my psyche, my love of country, and my well-being, and shut down the source. And reclaim the happiness that is my birthright.

August 5, 2013

Withholding Nutritious WordFood

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , , — Julia Hubbel @ 5:03 pm

In the latter part of July, I spent about two weeks with dear friends. My friend Jill has always been a good mentor and advisor, and it’s a great pleasure to have extended time with her and her family. I’ve been struggling to finish my third book and this time around her input was particularly valuable in putting the manuscript into perspective, and a new set of eyes was just the ticket needed.

Among her many talents, Jill raises, races, and writes about horses. Most particularly, her breeding stallion Commander, whom she has made into a local and national celebrity by giving him a “voice” in her articles and blogs with his enthusiasm for breeding mares and his sage comments on horse issues. Jill’s regular articles in horse magazines have made her a popular writer, and Commander a popular breeding stallion.

While I was visiting, Jill’s ranch was visited by a couple of men, one of them an African who had never been close to a horse, most certainly not a stallion. Jill brought Commander to the fence and let the men pet him. Commander’s calm demeanor and good behavior allowed both of them to appreciate him, and Jill’s handling of him. Jill took out an oversized pair of sunglasses and perched them on Commander’s face to show off his stardom, and Commander patiently allowed her this bit of fun. Both men were amazed at his good behavior. The Kenyan was utterly blown away.

When Jill came home to tell this story to her husband, I was standing in the kitchen. He stood with his back to her as she recounted, with genuine delight, Commander’s excellent behavior and his positive impact on these two men. How they complimented the horse and her, and how they had come away with such a positive impression of the ranch because of Commander. Jill radiated pride in her stallion and such pleasure that her horse had done such a good job.

Her husband never acknowledged the story. He never said “Yes, he’s a good horse.” He went on with his business and left the kitchen. Jill told me later how much it hurt her when she would come home and relay stories like this, and receive nothing in return. “I heap compliments on him, but he doesn’t return them, ” she said sadly.

We cannot know why people withhold kindness, compliments, recognition. We aren’t privy to their reasoning or their justifications. But when someone does withhold nutritious WordFood, it rots inside, like keeping good fruits and vegetables too long. They go bad. The environment we’re holding them in is toxic, or else we’d have happily expressed pride, pleasure, our own delight at the happiness of other people. Nutritious WordFood spoken aloud graces us as it comes through us, it feeds us as well as the other person, in fact even more so. It makes us glow with the gift of the profferred words of encouragement. They give us power for we are giving power away- which is the source of true power.

Some believe that if you hold back a compliment, you’re punishing someone. The opposite is true. You are punishing yourself. You grow small and mean and negative and bitter when you withhold your grace from others. Whether it’s to a stranger, or, much more challenging, to someone who is difficult for you to like, either way you are making an effort, and that effort pays untold dividends.
The more we withold our nutritious WordFood from others, especially those we love, the more those potentially gracious exchanges turn to garbage inside us. Offer a gift, a kiss, a hug, a compliment to someone today, now, send a tweet, an email. You will be better for it.

July 17, 2013

WordFood for the Senate

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , , , , — Julia Hubbel @ 7:18 pm

Yesterday on a drive around the southern Denver beltway I heard a story about a young man who was vilified for winning a college election. It wasn’t that he won, it was how he won. Seems that he rigged it in a rather thrilling spyware kind of way, stole some 750 student passwords, and gave himself about additional 630 votes in an election he had already won. Happily, he was caught, denuded of his title and is now paying the price. Pardon my sarcasm here, but this young man is already well on his way to a fine career in politics.

Later in the day, Majority Leader Harry Reid was crowing, as were several other leaders in the Senate about this big breakthrough that had happened around the stalled Presidential appointments (some for two  years and counting). To shorten what he said but to use his words, “we actually sat down and talked TO each other instead of AT each other.” Today I heard more senators making considerable noise about this supposedly stupendous breakthrough. Imagine. Elected officials gathering in a room to actually listen to one other. Hear what others have to say instead of following their leadership like blind and deaf sheep. Imagine.

The very idea that these elected officials would be speaking of the idea of sequestering themselves away in a private room to learn to speak and actually listen to each other civilly as a huge breakthrough in Congressional history seems to me a very sad statement about the Senate, and about politics in general. But then we all knew that anyway. Yet we will still vote for our guy or gal to go up to the Hill to teach’em a thing or two (read make them come around to OUR way of thinking which of course is Right and True and the American Way). And we get frustrated when shouting at the other side and not listening simply goes nowhere.

Funny. It doesn’t work in our marriages, friendships, at work. Why should it work in Congress? Or for that matter in Egpyt? That’s going well right now, isn’t it?

While the Senate seems to be awakening to the quaint notion that listening graciously is one way to create collaboration and partnerships, this is a great time to think about who we elect. We feed Congress those officials with our votes. The WordFood of courtesy,  respect and regard have been missing of late. The vitriol of hateful election campaigns is a direct result of what they think will work with us, the voting public. If we want them to be more civil, let’s all be more civil, kind, gracious. And vote with our feet. Tweets, emails, letters, about the WordFood example we want.

Perhaps we’ll get a law or two passed. Some we may like, some we may not, but that’s a democracy. A civil, gracious democracy.

Hey, we put ‘em there. And we can bring them back when they act like bullies.

July 7, 2013

WordFood of Integrity: Do What You Say You’re Going to Do

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , — Julia Hubbel @ 2:36 pm

Last Friday a simple request sent me on a journey which was both funny and thoughtful. Several days prior I had read, loved, and responded to a Sports Illustrated editorial which had left me in stitches. I sent a complimentary letter to the editor and they had indicated that the magazine might publish my missive. A friend wanted to see the editorial. It was lost in the house somewhere. That led to the search for the issue, which by this time was already being replaced on newsstands everywhere.

From Safeways to Seven Elevens, I was on a mission, because I too wanted this article. I ended up at a Barnes and Noble out at Colorado Mills where I chased Randy down at customer service. Their SIs had already been restocked, but he was willing to call around. Success! Down at Southwest, my issue was still on the counter but the restock guy was coming – perhaps in minutes. I made a perfectly reasonable request- would they hold a copy for me? No. What? No. The best I could hope for was to hurtle down C470 at breakneck speed and hope like hell I’d catch the restock kid in time.

I screeched into the parking lot, shot to the magazine rack and found the young man as he was loading last week’s periodicals. My issue was already at the very bottom, but he happily gave me a copy. Then I went looking for the manager to express my frustration at having to play NASCAR driver to buy this magazine.

Maddy explained that it was store policy not to hold  outdated magazines at the register.  Why? “Because people don’t ever show up and we lose the sale, and then we also can’t return the magazine to the publisher,” she explained. Maddy’s comment got me thinking about this on the larger scale. If it’s a company wide policy, lots of people have done that, lots and lots and lots of times.

Why is it that people will call and ask a store to make a special effort and then not show up, costing the store money? The same reason they let their friends and others down. It’s easy. We can be lazy. It’s hard work to show up for each other. It’s irresponsible. Rude. Reprehensible. For little stores all across America the impact is considerable. It’s the kind of thing that makes entrepreneurs nuts. But it’s so much bigger than that. If you’re willing to mistreat a store owner and not live up to your word, then you are just as likely to break a promise to your child. Your girlfriend. Your boyfriend. Your family. Because in effect, your word means nothing.

Here’s what integrity looks like: My Hewlett Packard printer went on the fritz last week. I called Customer Service, got Carlos. He promised that by the time we were done, it would work just fine. I was out of warranty, but he’d do it for free. It took two hours. I ended up buying a warranty and demanding that he get his boss on the phone with us so that I could sing his praises. He did precisely what he said he would do.  HP has my loyalty.

When you don’t do what you say, you are first out of integrity with yourself. It spreads like a cancer. It does matter. The fabric of our society depends on things like trust, integrity, personal responsibility. Just because your device allows you to hang up at any time doesn’t mean the toxicity on the other end stops at the push of a button. Or the carelessness of not showing up to pick up that magazine doesn’t have an impact. Enough events like that, people go out of business. Fall out of relationships. Stop trusting.

It’s so very easy to be an everyday hero. Just show up. Live up to your promises. Don’t let folks down. Whether it’s your loved ones or the little store down the street that struggling to keep its doors open. Heroes keep their promises. Go watch “Last of the Mohicans” again for a first class Hollywood reminder of what a promise looks like. Keep your word, you will look up to yourself again.

At one point in American history, our word was our bond. Now we have lawyers. Really? Is that what it takes these days? When I signed up as a soldier, I promised to give my life for my country. THAT was a serious promise. Still would. What does your word stand for? Let’s keep our commitments. Little ones, big ones. Let our word stand for something again.

June 23, 2013

Change the Conversation

Everyone deals with a whiner or complainer at some point. We may have married one. Often that person is someone we hired, maybe even a boss. This is a person who finds something wrong with everything and everybody. Perhaps they feel useless, and their way of getting back at the world is to complain. The truth is that you and I aren’t privy to their inner thoughts. We just don’t know what’s really going on inside them, what pain they are feeling or what motivates their behavior. All we have is what they do. And often, it can be pretty annoying.

There are lots of choices. You can leave the room (except if it’s your boss). You can shut the person out or ignore them. You can avoid them. You can cut that person out of your life if it’s a friend or someone outside your family. Much of this is avoidance on our part. There’s a very real potential that you’re part of the problem, and it takes some courage to look at where something you’re doing- or not doing- may be causing this person to express frustration. They may need something from you, ranging from communication, affection, support, coaching. Try to listen past the whining and really hear what’s being said rather than the complaining tone.

Another approach is to call this person on their behavior. Do it gently. We’re all 100% responsible for the results we have in our lives, and we draw our circumstances to us. There are no victims here. So if this person is complaining all the time, what exactly are they unhappy about? They created their world, their circumstances. They own it. Without hitting them over the head with this,  you can point out that they have complete control over their circumstances and their world through how they feel about it. What window of perspective they choose to use. The situation doesn’t change but how they view it can shift in an instant.

As soon as someone  sees where they own the problem, the circumstance, they can take responsibility. This is powerful WordFood. This changes them from being a victim to being the owner of their situation. They can see that what they created is actually teaching them important lessons, even making them stronger. And that they have choices, which we all have, in any situation, the choice to see and feel differently about what is going on in our lives.

When you invite your whiner to step outside themselves and see differently, you are feeding them powerful WordFood. It allows them to make a fundamental choice about how to be proactive instead of reactive. And for you, it’s a reminder of how positive WordFood reinforces these concepts for yourself. Not everyone will listen, but your inner self will hear, and respond. And sometimes, that is enough.

June 16, 2013

The Power of SelfTalk

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , , — Julia Hubbel @ 8:05 am

Most of us have read or heard about how powerful self talk is. How the voices in our head can affect our performance, our attitude, the quality of our daily life. Yet so often it may not be obvious how these voices are having an effect until something signficant changes, and we can see those effects first hand. This happened to me just this past week when I decided to take on a challenge.

About two years ago, I suffered a knee injury while working with a trainer doing cross fit. It was a pretty significant one, and it ultimately led to surgery last June. While I’ve since rehabbed, I continue to live with the occasional sharp stabbing pain in my left knee, especially on uneven surfaces, such as on the side of a mountain. As a result, I’ve gotten in the habit of telling people that I can’t hike. In the meantime, I do pretty much everything else from cycle to scuba to train on Red Rocks.

Last week I mentioned to a good friend that I was spending a month in Tanzania in November. He said quite bluntly that I simply HAD to climb Kilimanjaro because in twenty years, the snows would be gone. I started the litany about my knee and he cut me off. “Just do it,” he said, “You’ll never forgive yourself for being that close and not giving it a shot.”

The next morning I called my tour operator and booked the Rongai Route, the easiest of approaches.

What has happened since then has been nothing short of remarkable.

The conversation of “oh my knee” in my head has stopped. I joined the Colorado Mountain club that same day and am starting to book training hikes. I increased the intensity of my workouts at Red Rocks. Yes my knee might be annoyed or sore, but I am going up that mountain and I am reaching the summit, come hell or high water. And because of that decision, my hiking days are back.

This past weekend I went back into my basement with glee and dug through gear bags and pulled out all my camping gear, including mitts and gloves that were perfect for Mt Kili. I forgot I had them. Suddenly standing at Uhuru Peak is almost imminent. It’s not just an idea, it’s doable.

My friend’s push to make the decision changed the self-talk literally overnight. Having made the decision to climb Kili changed the conversation in my head. Will I need trekking poles? Yep. Will my knee yell at me? Probably. But the limiting self talk about how my knee means I can’t hike any more is over and done.

Right after I signed up for Kili I wrote my friend, who works in Abu Dhabi, and thanked him. He said, “Any time.”

I am lucky to have that man in my life. May you have people like that in yours who challenge your self limiting language.

You may not want to take on Kilimanjaro, but you may be too scared to go after that big job opportunity. Or ask that pretty girl out. Or learn how to ride horses. Or take scuba lessons. Or go back to college for your master’s degree. I’m telling you right now YES YOU CAN. There are people in wheelchairs who have to use a breath tube who are writing novels. Folks, if they are doing that, then you can, with all your faculties, get past your limiting self talk and take on the world. Get out there and find your Mt. Kilimanjaro and do it.

June 13, 2013

Don’t Wait until It’s Too Late

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , , — Julia Hubbel @ 10:57 am

Down in Florida is a lovely woman, my cousin, who allows me to write my books at her kitchen table. At the end of the day when she comes home from work, we head out for dinner. After a margarita, or a special chocolate martini, my cuz will regale me with tales that often end up in my books. One of them comes to mind.

This wonderful woman, we’ll call her Ellen, had a second husband, whom we’ll call Danny. They had a volatile relationship, largely because of Danny’s son from a previous marriage. This son was a pathological liar and a sociopath. Danny couldn’t see this, and the child pit the two against each other. Danny was also under considerable stress on his job.

For ten years, despite the great love they had for each other, this relationship was marred by toxic WordFood and hurtful battles that left them exhausted. Ellen found herself so emotionally damaged that she would curl up into a fetal position on the couch. At one point she demanded, and got, a separation. Danny went mad with grief and went overboard with flowers and gifts. For a while Ellen recuperated, even had an affair.

After some time away, Ellen realized that she really loved Danny, and wanted to try again. So they reconciled.

One month later Danny was diagnosed with terminal cancer. This news was devastating to the newly reunited couple. Suddenly they found the WordFood of love that had been missing for the previous eleven years of their marriage. In the final months of their time together, they were able to spend the kind of loving hours Ellen had dreamed of spending with Danny.

Why had it taken cancer and imminent loss to free these two loving people to find the kindness and care that had always existed? Are you trapped in a cycle of blame for what isn’t right in your life? So often, only a disaster can force determined people to see what they are about to lose, and the damage that being right causes in relationship.

Ellen is still sad that she wasn’t able to share more quality years with Danny. But her very true story serves as a reminder that now is the best time for gentility, courtesy, kindness, regard, and for expressing the love we feel for the ones we have married, given birth to, or call our significant other. For we aren’t guaranteed tomorrow. We have now. And it’s time to call them and use the WordFood of love to brighten their day.

April 29, 2013

WordFood in Feedback

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , — Julia Hubbel @ 8:38 am

Whether you’re a boss or a parent, a friend or a lover, a client or a customer, at some time you’re going to have an opportunity to provide feedback. How you do it is a reflection on who you are, and the way you hold yourself in the world. It’s also a reflection of how you treat yourself. This was brought home the other day when I had the chance to provide feedback to a caregiver.

After decades of bodybuilding and a certain amount of abuse, I’d finally starting taking care of myself by going to the Denver Integrative Massage folks on Galapagos. They offer 90 minute massages for the paltry sum of $35 dollars, and you have students of varying skill levels work on you. Last week, instead of my regular therapist, I got a first timer- and I was his first massage ever.

Although I spent some time explaining where I needed  him to work- the injury areas and problems where there was a back sprain or pain, he started on one leg and spent nearly forty minutes ministering to just that leg. Then as though he suddenly realized what he’d done, the other leg got a little attention and he hurried to catch up. By the time he got to the problem areas he’d run out of time. He was hesitant, and overly sensitive to any indication that I was experiencing pain. His rhythm was way off which was disconcerting, he often stopped completely which left me wondering where he’d gone. In all, it was an awkward experience, and I didn’t end up feeling either relaxed or relieved.

We are given sheets of feedback and I wrote “let’s talk” on mine, and sat down with him on our mat. He was a little anxious. My challenge was to find a way to put myself in his position, and not operate from where I was feeling about the massage. What transpired was a wonderful conversation about the experience. I shared with him what was going on inside me, what I sensed about his emotions, and what I might suggest. By beginning with telling him that I tried to imagine what it might be like to be doing my very first massage with a client, how hard I’d be trying to do everything right, how hypersensitive I might be to every cue, we connected.

The exchange allowed us to explore the session and have a learning experience together without his feeling defensive. What he reminded me was the importance of placing myself in his shoes, and how vulnerable he would be feeling to potential criticism. How important positive feedback would be for his first time around. It was humbling to remember how a few words can lacerate, or leave someone uplifted and encouraged.

In exchanges such as these, I’m the one doing the learning. The burden is on me to wield words in such a way that whatever my petty ego wants is set aside, and others’ needs are taken into account first.

Whether you’re a parent or a partner, feedback is an opportunity to uplift everyone involved. If you can enter the exchange humbly and with a willingness to be taught, it becomes something almost holy.

April 21, 2013

WordFood at RedRocks

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , , — Julia Hubbel @ 3:37 pm

Red Rocks represents a variety of experiences for Coloradans and tourists. For some it’s a venue for concerts. For others, a hiking paradise. For others, like me, it’s a boot camp. While I don’t partake of the seriously challenging boot camps that are run by ex drill sergeants on weekends (but highly recommend them), I take to the stairs regularly to keep legs and lungs in fighting shape.

Sunday was a case in point. By 11 am, most of the boot camps were done and the crowds of seriously athletic folk had dissipated to their brunch spots or the next challenge. The rest of us had hit the stairs and bleachers to do our thing, albeit a bit more slowly. Many are long time regulars.

What I so love about Red Rocks is that it is a community. I joined it last September, a couple of months after knee surgery. Like many others, I got a little winded a few times on the way  up those 190 stairs. After several more visits and many more laps, I was hooked. By late September I was doing 2200 steps a day, five to six days a week, rain or shine. And I was part of the community.

People offer WordFood of encouragement to those who are having a tough time. We love on each others’ dogs. There are regulars whose dogs know that I offer the Dreaded Butt Scratch and they drag their owners down the steps to collect their affection. We get a quick break and I get precious puppy love.  For months one man gave me the high five every time we passed on the stairs. I don’t know who he is, but the times my knee wanted me to quit, those high fives kept me going. And my knee rehabbed quickly.

Red Rocks regulars range from elite athletes to the obese, struggling to master one flight at a time. We stop and talk to each other, and share stories that encourage people to keep going.  Women, in particular, stop and compliment each other on their progress, on the shape they’re in, on coming out consistently. I hear it all the time. It’s music to the soul. That’s my Red Rocks concert.

For most of us who aren’t boot camp aficionados, making it to the top a few times is effort enough. For many others, it’s taking this on day after day, building our strength and stamina in a place of unworldly beauty. Where else but in Colorado do we get to exercise in such stunning beauty?

If you’ve never considered taking on Red Rocks as a place to exercise, come on out. There’s plenty of parking, and plenty of room. People are welcoming and it’s a dog heaven. Very early in the morning, firemen in their bunkers are pushing themselves to the limits. It’s an environment of encouragement, and you get back what you give.

Come on out and create your own concert of WordFood. Bring friends. Make it a party, make it playful. Have fun. That’s what exercise is supposed to be.

April 14, 2013

Descriptive WordFood About Ourselves

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , — Julia Hubbel @ 5:33 pm

Match.com is one of the funniest sources of behavior on earth. People post pictures from babyhood to their pets, sunsets to mountains, and carefully crop their photos to keep the viewer from seeing anything of their actual physical forms. Then they describe themselves as “Athletic and toned”, which must be the most widely interpreted two words on the singles dating scene. Age, height and hair are also loosely interpreted, and since this is a culture that puts great emphasis on physical beauty, lying is the norm. “What the heck,” it seems that folks say to themselves, “I’ll  figure it out in person.”

I’m been on Match since last Thanksgiving and it has been a source of hilarity to say the least, but also sadness. Imagine driving to an exciting first date based on those stunning photos only to be greeted by forty pounds of “Athletic and Toned” draped over someone’s stomach, bald where there was hair, and twenty more years than what was advertised. Robert Burns once wrote about “what a gift it would be to see ourselves as other see us.” In some cases, people really haven’t looked in a mirror and seen the change.

Saturday I had a date with a blind man like that, but blind in a different sense. A handsome, tall, athletic guy. Champion bodybuilder, model, chiseled. Successful businessman. We arranged a picnic. I was interested in talking about fitness and his time as a jet jockey in the Air Force, being a fellow vet. What I got was two hours of stories about his sexual exploits, complaining about his ex-girlfriend, and women who would take advantage of his -er- “gifts”- and leave him dissatisfied. At one point I mentioned that we’d been sitting there for two hours and he hadn’t ventured a single question about me. He didn’t get the hint. This is how he says women treat him.

It is a wise person who can see that what we say about others is a very good hint to our own behavior if we would but own it. A wise friend once said that we want to pontificate to others how to be in life, as though our life were the model for happiness and success. But if everyone were just like us, it would drive us batty, because we dislike the very things in others that we find in ourselves.

Before we stood up to leave, he mentioned, almost in passing, that he had been molested as a recruit. So had I. Suddenly I felt a wave of compassion. For military members, especially men, molestation goes unreported, unpunished, unmentioned, and uncounseled.  These men and women are left to deal with the shame and guilt the rest of their lives. Their ability to participate in normal relationships is stunted. Suddenly it all made sense.

It’s so easy to jump to conclusions, and so easy to judge. I actually had a lot in common with this man. And he had been kind enough to put up a mirror to that part of myself that tends to talk too much and not be aware of others’ conversational needs.

In everyday life there are countless opportunities to watch what we do and say, and watch where we deny a trait or behavior. That’s when to take note. Chances are that’s something we do and are blind to it. What we resist, persists. Match has given me plenty of opportunities to see things I wasn’t happy to acknowledge, but was grateful for the reminder. Match is my mirror, just like my Saturday date. He reminded me that there are times I talk too much and don’t take others’ needs into account. And more importantly, he reminded me that behavior has a root cause of pain, and the chances are we can relate to it.

Even someone we think is blind can help us see.

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