Insights of a Writer

When we attain a certain level of maturity, it becomes easier to see the dynamics of human clashes or battles which we perhaps never noticed before. As a result, we learn to choose our battles rather than get involved in every conflict presented. In choosing our battles, we will also have a much quicker recovery time of letting things go and we are better able to respond or retract when necessary. Being immature, we usually only respond.

When there is some sort of confusion or problem, recognition of how to cooperatively proceed may require letting go of our bruised ego to achieve a safe, calm outcome. Knowing how and when to choose the battles we decide to fight can make life much less stressful and more controlled.

Indications that the situation is getting out of control, like raised voices and defensive body language, may signal the time to withdraw and exit. It may be that the scenario can or should continue without our further involvement. But if we insist on trying to explain why we are interested or try to protect our position in the matter, things could escalate into an argument, hurt feelings and a rift.

This is an example of several considerations we can go over in our mind in choosing our battles:

1. Have I overstepped my authority by saying something?
2. Am I aware or unaware of the reason(s) for the decision(s) which have been made?
3. Do I need to ask more questions before getting involved?
4. Should I just mind my own business and say nothing?
5. Although the situation used to be my concern, I am no longer involved; so the problem is not mine to try to solve.
6. I am doing or did the right thing by backing down and out.

When we learn to choose our battles and act accordingly, we can maintain the joy, peace and harmony in our lives and in the lives of others.

Since writing my blogs, although I’ve written over 40 articles, the ones which get the most comments have had class or race as subjects. These comments come from around the world, so I can assume that people from foreign lands are interested in the social situation in the U.S., particularly from the perspective of a black person. Therefore, I offer this as speaking from my heart about my feelings of being an African-American.

I was born in 1943 in a place called Shreveport, Louisiana, which is one of the southern states. These were the primary states which blatantly carried on slavery, although racism existed and still exists today throughout the U.S. My maternal grandfather and grandmother were born on plantations, and my paternal grandmother conceived my father with her white plantation owner.

My parents were very subservient to whites as I recall as a child, which angered me because my siblings and I attended a Catholic school and had been told by the “white” nuns that we were all created equal. I wholehearted took that information as factual and apparently so did my older sister and brother. Although we observed the “whites only” signs on water fountains and knew “our place” in other areas of interactions with whites, our hesitancy to totally bow to the status quo made my father decide to relocate us to California after I graduated from 8th grade.

Race and race relations were not discussed in our home, so I had no yardstick to measure my parents’ feelings. Whatever they, our extended family, teachers and neighbors truly felt about segregation was kept pretty close to private conversations between adults, and we children were sheltered from their discussions. It was not until I was a young married woman watching the flames of riots in our San Francisco neighborhood and the horrors of inhumane treatment during the civil rights movement of the 60s did I fully realize the extent of what was happening to my people.

The first time I saw a cotton field, in 2003; I broke down and cried to think how long and arduous the journey had been for all of us who are descendents of slavery. We have accomplished many great things and continue to do so today despite overwhelming challenges. All Americans are aware that the wounds of slavery have scabbed over, but in many instances, still fester. Nevertheless, we love our country.

As a black person, African-American, American citizen, I am grateful for my parents and teachers who ensured that I would be able to live with dignity and have no animosity toward those alive today who reap the benefit of my ancestors sweat and tears, but who accept the responsibility to help maintain the freedom which we all crave. It is a tightrope stretched between both races that we walk in the U.S. But there are humane Americans on both ends of the rope which help to keep all of us in balance, even those who want to see us tumble.

When I wake up every morning, and I’m grateful for that blessing, I know that this is a day I have been given to create, or be or do something different. It is with that freshness of anticipation that I love to begin my day. Although there may have come up issues I had to address yesterday, or there may be things which have lingered around for quite awhile, each morn brings a chance to learn a new lesson; something exceptional. And that possibility is what makes living life a wonderful experience.

Since I have been old enough to remember, I have always been a crier. I cry when I’m happy, I cry when I’m sad. I even cry when I think about all the times I’ve cried. I realize now that mainly I was crying out of frustration, because I put so much on my plate all the time, and usually didn’t know how to find myself out of the maze of decisions I was making; so I cried. I also remember mourning the death of my parents years and years before they died, but when they did I was quite prepared. They had taught me all that they could, and although I missed them tremendously, accepting their passing was a lesson I had to learn.

Life has become more enjoyable for me as time goes on, and that’s because I have opened my mind to the possibilities that all my experiences come to teach me lessons, and the sooner I learn them, the sooner I can move on. In addition, if a similar experience or lesson comes up again, I can act rather than react in behalf of my own wellbeing and peace of mind. I have also learned to ask for help when I need it, I have stopped trying to do everything myself; which was one of my biggest problems. Others know equal to or more about certain things than I and it is their mission in life to provide their expertise, just as it is my purpose to provide mine. We can’t be all things to all people, not even ourselves.

Each of us has something important to the world. As we go along, we should share our knowledge, even if it hurts or makes us ashame to admit our choices…especially to our children. For it is in the relating to others that we receive forgiveness and restoration. We may think we are the only ones who have committed our acts, but logic should tell us that with billions of people in the world, there are many others who have made the same mistake, if we want to call it that. I believe there are lapses in judgment or misdirections or experimentations, but they are only mistakes if we do not learn the lessons they come to teach. Learning the lessons is what primarily makes life such a wonderful experience.

Whether it is related to business or personal, whatever we do should be done from our heart. Conducting our affairs within an environment of compassion will be more worthwhile at the end of the day. Knowing we have made someone’s way a little lighter and brighter by just being courteous and helpfully supportive will add tremendously to our feeling of well-being to last a lifetime.

An example is a recurring situation between my neighbors. I live in a 9-story apartment building of 83 units. Most are occupied by one person living alone, and all of the residents are either disabled and/or seniors ranging in age from 18 to over 100. There is much variety in our ethnicities as well, but all are close to the same financial status.

On many occasions, holidays, birthdays, etc., we act like a big family. We also help each other during times of necessity; displaying much thoughtfulness. We share and recycle openly or anonymously; often by hanging a bag on someone’s doorknob containing goodies, clothing or other items.

But once in awhile tempers flare and harsh words are exchanged because someone feels that their charitable act was not appreciated in the way they felt it should have been. This causes the other residents to take sides, discuss the matter openly or in whispers, and generally creates an uncomfortable environment. These confrontations have even led to violence and police involvement.

This situation may sound insignificant, but when you consider it as a microcosm of events which take place in individual lives, in our workplaces, in government offices, even between countries, you can see how not doing things from the heart, but from the perspective of “what have or will you do for me,” can lead to great loss, division and disturbance of the peace, or cause war to erupt.

If we took the time to examine our motives, and if they lack true compassion, it would be better not to put forth the effort. If the cost of doing it wrong far outweighs the reward of doing it right, perhaps we should wait until we feel we are honestly doing it from our heart.

While surfing the cable stations, a familiar figure flashed on the screen and brought an instant smile to my face. He was dressed in his usual robes, sitting on a chair with his legs folded beneath him, smiling and laughing often. I felt like a child having a sweet frozen treat on a hot summer day as his words were refreshing and delightful. He is the Dalai Lama.

The name of the show was “Seeds of Compassion” on the University of California at Davis station. I had missed the introduction of the other four panel members whom the Dalai Lama called “scientists.” He also alluded to the fact that, unlike him, they were not “spiritual” leaders.

There have been few people I have trusted to be authentic and the Dalai Lama is one of them. He speaks with simplicity, clarity and confidence, and his words bring instant understanding without muddling my brain. The subject he was discussing was compassion which I believe to be among the highest attributes of humanity.

According to the Dalai Lama, there are two kinds of compassion. The first is limited and closed. This type we are all born with, and it’s only after we reach a certain level of maturity that arrogance gets involved and we change. Sometimes we become terrorists like Hitler, Bin Laden or the violent spouse next door. The second type of compassion is broad and open. This type comes with understanding that there is no difference between me and you. We are all equal.

When asked how to maintain the broad level of compassion, the Dalai Lama said the answer was in education, the “duty of the scientists” to figure out. But I believe we can all teach compassion. It is neither a spiritual or scientific issue only, but one that requires a holistic approach.

We should recognize that each individual is unique in many aspects and should be allowed to express that uniqueness in whatever facet of their life’s journey that does not conflict with another. For it is only in the diversity of opinion that conflicts lie, and compassion can define and equalize that multiplicity.