A Good Kind of Label

Friday, December 3, 2010

A number of years ago, an acquaintance told me that I had a gift for encouragement. I felt softly surprised by her observation and instantly delighted that she mentioned it, out loud, to me. At the same time, a quiet part of me shyly recognized the truth of her words.

I didn't know that I knew this about myself, but I felt so grateful to her for shining a flashlight of conscious awareness on that inner corner of me. I knew I liked saying positive things to people and offering to help out when I could. People expressed gratitude or happy surprise, and I felt as grateful and delighted at their reactions as I did when I made the offers in the first place.

I had enjoyed this circle of niceness, if you will, for as long as I could remember, but I never thought about it. It's just what I did, and I liked it. My acquaintance's label -- encourager -- brought an important part of myself into sharp focus -- with myself. I knew it matched my previous actions. I knew it matched how I felt inside.

Her comment was one of those things that is a surface surprise to hear
expressed but not a deep surprise to acknowledge. It was like the adage that a teacher's job is to show us what we already know.

This woman's label immediately, and over time, gave me a sense of clear self-knowledge, and it felt excellent. It still does. Being labeled in that way, having a word for that part of me, strengthened my sense of myself and what I'm about. It does not in any way describe my entire self; I think, act and feel in many ways, and they're not all desirable. But nothing I have ever done since that day in the late '80s has ever erased or undone my encourager-self completely.

That is a great, great gift.

This gift feeds itself. Encouraging others feels good. I know it's helpful to them, in however small or seemingly invisible a way. I know this because it's how I feel when someone encourages me. So I keep doing it, and being an encourager becomes a self-fulfilling trait. I feel better. You feel better. Win-Win. Very cool.

What deep inner truths about yourself have you been able to see in your lifetime? Whether the awareness grows gradually or jumps up in a millisecond is immaterial. What matters is that you do carry deep, lovely gifts, and whenever you find them you'll recognize them for the truths they are.

I rarely believe in or espouse guarantees, but here's one I say with no hesitation whatsoever: every single person carries deep, rich substantial Somethings within. Having a name for that trait helps strengthen and deepen and build it.

So often, the world teaches us not to brag, to be humble. Be nice. Don't show off. Well, these messages have some value, but they're confusing and not 100% accurate 100% of the time.

  

If it helps, keep in mind that the wonderful traits I'm talking about are gifts. Wherever they come from, it's in our power to accept and build on them. Name them. Help them grow. Have a good time with them. Use them.

You'll benefit, and so will everybody on whom you practice.

Word Wonder -- kind

Friday, January 22, 2010

1. Gentle and considerate in behavior; goodhearted; benign. Archaic affectionate; loving. 4. Obsolete Natural; appropriate; lawful.  [from the Old English word gecynde]

1. A class or grouping; type; variety. 2. The distinguishing nature or character of something. 3. Obsolete Nature in general; the ordained and proper order of things. [from the Old English word gecynd]
- Funk & Wagnalls Canadian College Dictionary

The word "kind" and its many relatives came from the Old English words gecynde and gecynd, two virtually identical descendants of the ancient Indo-European root, genə-. The root "genə-" means "to give birth or to beget." Many of the words that derive from this root have to do with procreation and with family and tribal groups: gender, general, generate, generic, genesis, genital, genius, genre, gentle, genuine, genus, germ, germinate, ingenious, innate, kin, king, natal, nation, native, nature, nee, noel, pregnant. Quite a list!
- Dictionary of the English Language

Notice that the dictionary entries above give several archaic and obsolete uses of the word "kind": affectionate, loving, natural, appropriate, lawful, nature in general, and the ordained and proper order of things. These older uses of the word provide a bridge from our modern understanding of "kind" back to the original meanings having to do with procreation, family, and the tribe.

This investigation of the word "kind" took me much deeper than just the academic examination of words and roots. It engendered images in my mind of ancient people living together in their family and tribal groups. Doing my best to go beyond sentiment and the visuals portrayed in Hollywood movies, I probed within myself for the feelings and facts of everyday life back then -- the requirement that families stick together and that tribes grow stronger by having children and staying close to kin who could be relied upon to protect and nurture. The root, genə-, implies that people have always seen the need for not only physical survival but emotional connection, as well.

They would have seen animals caring for their young. They would have witnessed birth, death, and regeneration and would have known they were part of it all. Genə- would have been a basic concept of everyday life. And so their languages, which developed out of everyday life, also shaped everyday life. Today we are the same-- part of birth and death cycles, shaping language and daily activities to meet our needs and the needs of those around us.

Most people value being part of a group, whether it's their family, a club or church, or a larger community or culture. Yet many, many people do not feel they belong anywhere. Whether we face our "own kind," whatever that means to each of us, or we face "others," we can choose to see the connections of genə-, of begetting and being kind and gentle, of the natural order of our connection to one another.

Reaching Out to Grief

A week and a half ago, our youngest son, Daniel, died. He was twenty years old. In the fog of grief and exhaustion, I've sometimes wondered what I would say in my first post since that day. It felt strange to have my mind jump to such ordinary things, but even in the middle of the worst moments, I have known life really does go on, whether we like it or not...so here I am. I'm a writer, and I value healing and relationships, so it helps me to be here. I hope it helps somebody else, too.

I have learned a powerful lesson in the last ten days. I've learned that any expression of caring and support is of value when someone has died. I used to think that I might cause more grief by calling and stirring things up, or that I'd be one person too many during an exhausting time. As a result, I often hung back when a friend's loved one died. I suspect some of that hanging back was connected to unresolved grief of my own and to a general discomfort with death. But a large part of it came from my belief that my small offering was too small to bother with or would be badly timed.

Well, I'm here to tell you that's not how it works.

My husband and I began to heal early on, a bit at a time, as we were lovingly touched by the hundreds of people who called, emailed, came by, hugged us, sent cards, cried with us, posted a message on Daniel's Facebook tribute page, prepared and brought food, tidied up, sent flowers, sang and drummed, prayed, smiled, and reminisced with us. One friend and neighbour came by and fixed the porch light -- what a helpful, caring act! Every good thought, each small act, has helped us avoid despair and overwhelm -- and will continue to do so.

So, please, trust your instincts when someone suffers a loss. Believe that you do matter. Your offering of support and caring helps. My husband described it this way: the sadness, grief and numbness of Daniel's death emptied our reservoirs, but each act of kindness and support refills our reservoirs one drop at a time.