SOMETIMES
even the best Words
need not to be spoken or sung
but still understood
just the same. . .
P L E A S E
just listen
not to hear
not to reply
but to actively respond. . .
a n d
p l e a s e
Who Cares - What Matters
SOMETIMES
even the best Words
need not to be spoken or sung
but still understood
just the same. . .
P L E A S E
just listen
not to hear
not to reply
but to actively respond. . .
a n d
p l e a s e
.
It was Father’s Day yesterday and I asked the question to myself then
and when I visited my dad later in the afternoon
and now late tonight. . .
Have you?
I’ve never had much of an argument in my life let alone an actual fight.
Oh,
there was that time in fourth grade where Clyde Albert
and I got into a fight. . .
I’m not sure about what,
now
. . .Or the time playing varsity basketball I took a rebound off of a guy who took a swing at me that I was fortunately lucky to have
ducked. . .
. . .Or the time we were playing pick-up intramural ball and my high school coached on purpose cold-cocked me from behind after I stole the ball from him. . .
But actual fisticuffs brawl. . .
u h h h h h, n o,
not from this pacifist-non-confrontational-man.
Not ever, thankfully for any of my five children or six grandchildren,
either;
H O W E V E R
I can’t remember many times in their lives
when I haven’t done that for each of them. . .
D A I L Y
I love this clip from CINDERELLA MAN, where boxer-daddy Jim Braddock played by Russell Crowe, had once been able to provide for his family in a very lavish way. . .and then injured and during the Great Depression, he finds himself unemployed and unable to meet even their most basic needs. Unbelievably, while Jim and his wife, Mae aren’t able to protect their kids from the devastating effects of poverty, they still create stability and a sense of normalcy in their lives through the strength of their love and sacrifice.
I love this clip from CINDERELLA MAN because when it came to providing for his wife and children, there was no fight too big or unchallenged by him.
Parents. . .
dads do that, don’t they?
I remember my parents sacrificing for me and my two brothers and sister;
I remember my dad working and then coming home late because he kept working after he worked;
I remember working myself and never really counting it as any cost when it came to providing. . .
I still don’t;
I’m one of those guys
that actually gives my kids gift cards,
or in the past,
presents
because of the honor they gave me of not only being their dad,
but the awesome honor of supporting them;
Olivia, Gina, Angie, Zoe, and Connor
took a man and made him a
f a t h e r ,
but allow him still to be their
d a d,
all
in their own individual ways.
I never had to step into a ring or the arena to
f i g h t f o r m i l k
for my children and grandchildren. . .
but I have hopefully done much more
daily
for so much less
. . .that my actions may show what no word of love could ever convey to them will continue to be my personal crusade
F A T H E R’ S D A Y
Yes. . .
Y E S
It was celebrated just yesterday,
The best part?
I never plan on living a day without celebrating
T H A T
gift
I love this clip from Cinderella Man. . .
Now. . .
for that glass of milk
The truest of all truths
and of all data based evidence
is what we know
is what we know that we know
is what we bet our lives that we know
but spend every heart beat trying to
D I S P R O V E:
ONE
OUT OF
ONE
OF US
DIES
. . .even those we know
who seem to defy it
are teflon proof
EXEMPT
just because of
WHO THEY ARE. . ,
SCOOTER IS ONE OF THEM
(until he wasn’t)
October 29, 1950 – June 10, 2020
Born October 29, 1950 to Rita Washinski Bakaitis and Albert Bakaitis in Washington, Pa. Graduated from Washington High School in 1968 and briefly attended Drexel Institute of Technology in Philadelphia then attended several Electrical Technical Schools and Specialized Training. He was employed by Washington Stainless Steel Corp. from 1973-2000 as a Master Electrician.
In 1975 he married the love of his life, Elizabeth “Becky” Krager and in 1979 a son, Eric David was born to them. Eric precedes him in death.
During his life in Pennsylvania, Scooter enjoyed many varied hobbies and interests. He was an avid bow hunter and fisherman, loved all outdoor activities such as boating and camping with his family and friends, coached little league baseball and basketball with his son.
Throughout his lifetime Scooter enjoyed weight training and the social life that comes in a gym setting. His passionate daily project was a free “Internet Joke Service” that he started after the death of his son to try and “brighten the world”. His wife Becky and he also organized a group called “Friends Helping Friends” at this time. In 1999 he organized the “Guyz Lunch” meeting for every Tuesday of the year which continues today.
Upon moving permanently to Florida in 2004 he renewed his enjoyment of motorcycles, started raising orchids and plants, also his musical interests which included “The Blues” and playing the guitar and model railroading.
He was also very active in his community, four years as ARC chair for his community and for many years as he would say “As a Professional House Bitch” for his snow bird neighbors when they went north for the summer.
He would say, “I don’t go to church, but Me and God are tight”. His church was the canal in his backyard or the ocean/beach, where he would go to “Chat with God”.
Scooter is survived by his beloved wife Becky and their “adopted children/adults” Nicholas and Lindsay O’Brien, Justin and Rachel Sienkiel and Erik Larson and wife Santella, as well as his brothers Al (Jeanne) and Brian and nephew Nathaniel.
I used to think
A FRIEND IS SOMEONE WHO KNOWS EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU,
AND STILL LIKES YOU. . .
I kind of believe now
that a Friend like Scooter
is someone who can do you for
and for those you love
what you have no power
within you to do;
He did for me and my family
(and countless others)
what could have never been done
without him:
MAKING HIS HOME IN FLORIDA OUR VACATION FOR THE PRIME YEARS OF OUR CHILDREN’S LIVES
HE GAVE EXPERIENCES
HE GAVE ENDLESSLY OF HIMSELF
HE TOOK HIS PERSONAL PAIN
AND MADE IT OTHER’S
SUPREME PLEASURE
He was Hulk Hogan
more than Hulk Hogan was himself
THIS IS SCOOTER. . .
Some people are
CHURCH PEOPLE
and a select few
(very few)
ARE THE CHURCH
. . .there wasn’t a person Scooter ever met
who wasn’t a part of his Congregation
. . .his pulpit was muted
because his
ACTIONS
did all of the speaking;
Scooter never came into a situation
that he didn’t leave better
and he had a way of taking
YOUR LADDER
and adding rungs
always so you could climb higher
always higher
than you ever thought you could rise. . ,
The grains of sand in our lives gets emptied out
much faster than any of us would like
and what’s left isn’t discarded sand. . .
It’s not even just memories
SO MUCH AS
as the
E X P E R I E N C E S
that live on within us;
AND BECAUSE WE CAN SHARE
WHAT’S FIRST BEEN SHARED,
now have the potential to live on in
OTHERS. . .
and after all that’s said or done
WE
become what that data-based evidence can’t begin to show:
I M M O R T A L
. . .try taking the Sand out of
That Glass
Sometimes
Winning the Lottery
has so much more than
a dollar amount. . .
Sometimes
it’s something so much more
valuable
E X P E N S I V E
P R I C E L E S S. . .
that’s what I thought
THE FIRST TIME
I saw Titus Kaphar’s painting
and then read his poem
which painted many different
i m a g e s
in the pages of my mind
Painting by Titus Kaphar for TIMEIDEASBY TITUS KAPHAR JUNE 4, 2020 6:19 AM EDTTitus Kaphar is an American artist whose work examines the history of representation
Artist Titus Kaphar painted the portrait that appears on the cover of this week’s TIME. He has written the following piece to accompany the work which hopefully now will be a part of our work:
I
can not
sell
you
this
painting.
In her expression, I see the Black mothers who are unseen, and rendered helpless in this fury against their babies.
As I listlessly wade through another cycle of violence against Black people,
I paint a Black mother…
eyes closed,
furrowed brow,
holding the contour of her loss.
Is this what it means for us?
Are black and loss
analogous colors in America?
If Malcolm could not fix it,
if Martin could not fix it,
if Michael,
Sandra,
Trayvon,
Tamir,
Breonna and
Now George Floyd…
can be murdered
and nothing changes…
wouldn’t it be foolish to remain hopeful?
Must I accept that this is what it means to be Black
in America?
Do
not
ask
me
to be
hopeful.
I have given up trying to describe the feeling of knowing that I can not be safe in the country of my birth…
How do I explain to my children that the very system set up to protect others could be a threat to our existence?
How do I shield them from the psychological impact of knowing that for the rest of our lives we will likely be seen as a threat,
and for that
We may die?
A MacArthur won’t protect you .
A Yale degree won’t protect you .
Your well-spoken plea will not change hundreds of years of institutionalized hate.
You will never be as eloquent as Baldwin,
you will never be as kind as King…
So,
isn’t it only reasonable to believe that there will be no
change
soon?
And so those without hope…
Burn.
This Black mother understands the fire.
Black mothers
understand despair.
I can change NOTHING in this world,
but in paint,
I can realize her….
This brings me solace…
not hope,
but solace.
She walks me through the flames of rage.
My Black mother rescues me yet again.
I want to be sure that she is seen.
I want to be certain that her story is told.
And so,
this time
America must hear her voice.
This time
America must believe her.
One
Black
mother’s
loss
WILL
be
memorialized.
This time
I will not let her go.
I
can not
sell
you
this
painting.
and then. . .
I saw this little thumbnail picture
way down in the right hand corner of
Titus’s poem
and these words spilled out of me
from heart
through my eyes
down my cheeks
onto a crumbled piece of discarded paper
that missed the garbage can
from short range:
Why
NOW
am I always on the
Verge of Tears
With a movie clip
Or just the mention of it
A poem
Or just a well spoken phrase
A song
With or without lyrics
A scene
A smell
A glance
A touch
A sound
An indescribable feeling
And then
THERE
A flow of tears
No lash can hold back
Or no longer Dam
Flows a liquid saltiness
That can’t be
Diluted
But can only
Water
Nourish
What’s waited to grow
But never been fully planted
Or hardly nurtured
But now no longer
Ignored
I’m always on the verge of tears
Now
F I N A L L Y
(And hopefully for an ever)
Lump in the throat
Unswallowable
that never chokes
but makes the breath
in and out
different
Sometimes
Winning the Lottery
has so much more than
a dollar amount. . .
Sometimes
it’s something so much more
valuable
E X P E N S I V E
P R I C E L E S S. . .
Mr Kaphar
can’t sell me his painting
not because
he’s holding out
so much as us
HOLDING ON
(to all of the wrong things)
Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
are you
FEELIN’ IT?
. . .not a whole lot of joy right now in the world,
huh. . . ?
Who
W H O
would have ever thought we’d forget about
COVID-19
in less than a week
with all of the riots
lootings
shootings
protestests
U N R E S T
It feels like the World
is getting tossed about
like a big beach ball
that everyone wants to
bat around
or kick
BUT NOT GRAB A HOLD OF
or just
C A T C H
. . .has it ever felt like
THIS
b e f o r e
searching for a
pulse
a heartbeat
that just doesn’t seem to
exist
I was in seventh grade, just a 13-year-old boy the night at Martin Luther King, Jr was assassinated. I distinctly remember it as if time stood still as my parents watched a news cast, that interrupted our regular programming; it wasn’t so much what my parents said as what their faces were shouting: HORROR. SHOCK. SADNESS. . .
I had seen that look on their faces when I came home from school as a nine-year-old boy the day that John F. Kennedy was assassinated.
I remember telling them that night as Walter Cronkite tried telling us the facts, setting the scene, maybe this was a good thing so now people wouldn’t riot anymore or protest and remember even more distinctly how they explained to me how this was a terrible thing and that there may be even more unrest and violence and protesting.
It was only a few days later when my dad was at a meeting and my mother and my two brothers and sister were at home and we heard a commotion out on the street and we went out on the porch there were hundreds of African-American people walking down our street from The Projects’ a few blocks away. Just walking. Not shouting. Not rioting. Not looting or burning anything. . .
Just walking. . .
They were going downtown for a peaceful protest in memory of Dr King.
I was terrified,
I had never seen a sea of people moving methodically down
a city street and its sidewalks;
I never wanted the protection of my father more than at that moment.
I have had other moments of being terrified and there’s a certain way your heart beats like at no other time than during
THAT FEELING. . .
My heart has beaten that way over this past week making me feel like a scared-trying-to-figure-it-all-out-13 yr old boy. . .
This Christmas tree is in my office overlooking my desk;
It was a gift a couple of years ago from my office buddies,
two great Social Workers,
Jen and Rachel
who have done of some of their best work on me;
they appropriately celebrated my Birthday by proclaiming it,
MERRY CHUCKMAS
. . .the 25th of every month
I usually post some Christmas scene as a reminder that it’s
MERRY PRACTICE CHRISTMAS
and everyone on FaceBook gets really annoyed
and tells me
“DON’T RUSH IT”
or
“IT’S WAY TOO EARLY”
as if it was a curse for them to carry
or a chaotic Season to be avoided,
BUT HERE’S THE TRUE REASON:
Because I want the World to be now
what it is
T H E N
kind
caring
loving
accepting
forgiving
giving
peaceful
happy
content
and I just don’t want it to be contagious
I want it to be
e v e r l a s t i n g
I want the message of Christmas
to be a message of
N O W
To be a
LIGHT
no one was looking for
AND FINDS,
a n y w a y. . .
So on the 25th of every month
I play Christmas Carols
but I’ve been playing them a lot since
George Floyd
was brutally killed
in front of all
us. . .
My Favorite?
O HOLY NIGHT. . .
2nd verse:
Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is Love and His gospel is Peace;
Chains shall he break, for the slave is our brother,
And in his name all oppression shall cease,
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful Chorus raise we;
Let all within us praise his Holy name!
and then the
CHORUS
which now forever haunt me:
FALL ON YOUR KNEES
(Fall on your knees,)
(Fall on your knees,)
(I can’t get the image out of my head of a police officer’s bent knee on the neck of Mr. Floyd)
Oh hear the angel voices!
O night divine! O night when Christ was born.
O night, O holy night, O night divine.
SO
so, so many
UN-HOLY NIGHTS
knowing that ultimately
LOVE CAN’T BE LEGISLATED
but it can be
abundantly given
making us all
hopeful
grateful
affected
victims
of its power. . .
We need a little Christmas
in all of its shapes and sizes
with an ample amount of flavor
to keep it fresh. . .
talk about a different heart beat
B E
I T
THIS BOOK
is about 4 years old. . .
Someone gifted it to me and I have never fully read it through;
I’ve thumbed through it,
read it’s
CONTENTS
page and
the following before putting it on
THAT SHELF
for further reading
and I picked it up over these past few days and read it’s own
DESCRIPTION:
Would you like to change the world but feel like there’s nothing you can do? What if you discovered you could change everything with just five breaths and one kind thought? Want to help heal America? Our planet? The Global Kindness Revolution is the way forward. You don’t even have to get out of bed to join. You only need to take five breaths and think a kind thought, each day, at noon. Kindness at Noon, Everyday, Everywhere is a call to action to all, regardless of beliefs, background or religion, who are craving a kinder, gentler world.
This is a guide to exploring those aspects of ourselves we’re unaware of, such as suppressed anger and racism, that keep us in the dark and prevent us from embracing our neighbor, or what we perceive as the “other.” Scientists call the primitive part of our brains the “lizard” brain from the times when we hunted dinosaurs. Now, in this tumultuous era where viciousness and apathy fills the airwaves, The Global Kindness Revolution aims to elevate our collective mindset, to nurture the “Kind Mind” where empathy and compassion are on automatic.
The book provides exercises and guidance for incorporating a kindness lifestyle. It includes practices to enhance our connection with Mother Earth, and perspectives on what it means to be kind to oneself. It drills down into social issues that impact us individually and as a whole, and how we can navigate our social interactions with more compassion. It suggests ways to improve our personal relationships and our community, and how to maintain a healthy existence with the domination of technology.
The magic of this revolution is its global appeal calling on millions around the world to pause for Kindness at Noon. More are joining the cause to diminish the violence, racism and meanness humanity has continuously been plagued with. What began as a simple experiment in a Pennsylvania prison has expanded into a global initiative making a mark in countries like Nepal, Afghanistan and Egypt, directly addressing the refugee crisis, violence against women, and other injustices in dire need of change.
Kindness at Noon, Everyday, Everywhere. Join us!
SOUNDS GOOD,
r i g h t. . . ?
A N D
nothing against this fine book
and the exercises it implores us to use,
B U T
now’s not the time for words
or books
filled with them. . .
WE ARE
far past needing books about
h e a l i n g
VIOLENCE
RACISM
MEANNESS
but
right on time about
B E I N G
A Volume of
PEACE
ACCEPTANCE
KINDNESS
. . .funny, huh,
THESE TOO, ARE WORDS. . .
and we need to not only be carriers of
SUCH LOVE
but
INFESTERS OF THIS LOVE
that knows
NO
antidote or vaccine
. . .A time
to stop drawing lines in the sand
to be sided against
or straddled
BUT CREATORS OF CIRCLES
that include
and never
e x c l u d e
US ALL
This is to be
A Caring Catalyst
not words
not ideals
not experiments
not wishes
not hopes
not philosophies
BUT A LIVE
ACTIVE
Circle making inclusive
FORCE
one compassionately kind act at at time
(UNCONDITIONALLY)
For Now. . .
It’s not a time to do things by
THE BOOK
and if words be necessary at all. . .
May it be
that we are all more
ADJECTIVES
and way less
NOUNS
This recently popped up on my YouTube channel from the PIANO GUYS
and as often the case:
NO WORDS NECESSARY. . .
not that
THAT
has ever stopped me
. . .in fact,
it usually inspires more words
(from the producers):
Behind every song is a story. Some superficial or spontaneous. Some deep and more meaningful, even life-altering. Music plays so many roles in our lives. On the surface it is entertainment, but that grossly underestimates its depth. It can be a messenger — have you ever had just the right song played at just the right time, sending you just the right message? It can be a pathway to a change or step forward we need to make in life. Sometimes it can be an angelically-aided connector of people. Well, in this story, music was all this and more. A simple social media post that shared a tourist’s video of an extraordinarily talented puppeteer, Márton Harkel, who performs as a busker on the streets of Budapest. What caught the eye was his cellist puppet. It was a near-perfect copy of the puppeteer. And as he made the motions of playing cello, his puppet would mimic his movements with astounding musicality. It was captivating. It was like watching art come alive. And so there was this magnificent pairing of his puppet design and marionette skills with the arrangement of the Mussorgsky’s “Promenade” theme from “Pictures at an Exhibition” — the prominent piece among a suite of classical works written about art coming alive! And the timing of it couldn’t have been better — as it’s releasing during a time when we can’t film traditional music videos due to the current pandemic’s safety measures. So this is a pandemic approved, proxy puppet’s performance of Pictures at an Exhibition! Please take some time to listen to the original suite here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TAHX0… (The theme chosen is right at the beginning and throughout the piece — it is the melody Mussorgsky wrote to depict us walking from painting to painting) Márton worked for over 200 hours to handcraft these puppets so that their articulating fingers, and a multitude of hinges and joints could be “in concert” with the music. Notice the care he takes to see that they are doing their best to even play the right notes. The best part of this story? After Márton finished creating the puppets and prepared to film, he realized he couldn’t make them come alive alone. He needed another puppeteer. He hired Napsugár Trömböczky, a lovely and talented young lady. As they began working together, their interest in the project and the puppets took a back seat to their interest in each other! In ONE WEEK they were engaged. They say it’s crazy. We say it’s destiny. Márton and Napsugár’s love story that’s truly touching. We pray before we write our music with the desire that it will somehow spread hope. All of us all spend a great deal of our lives waiting for something or someone we’re hoping for. Stories such as this can perhaps provide some evidence that a life can change and hopes can be realized in the matter of one song. One week. One idea. That gives us hope that when things aren’t lining up or we’re far from where we had hoped to be, the alignment that we seek can come together in a mere moment — in a way we could have never anticipated. Now, we don’t believe that we, as humans, are puppets of Destiny. But perhaps there is a “Grand Puppeteer,” who loves us and who knows us better than we know ourselves — and He pulls destiny’s strings on our behalf. Márton, in his message to us after he finished the video, humbly and graciously expressed gratitude for the project, but more than the project, for the opportunity to meet his soulmate, and to do what he loves, with whom he loves. Who dare take any credit?Look to the Grand Puppeteer for that. But we thank you, Márton and Napsugár, all the same. If all the time, work, energy, and passion that went into this project was all for you two and your eternal family, then it was well worth it. This is just a small honor to have the opportunity to “play a small part” in something much more important than a music video. After all, we are just a mere puppet(eer)
Pay Attention, Class. . .
The Music
The Action
only continues on
(in each of us)
On our morning walk
we didn’t find a parade,
One found and included us. . .
It was different this year,
wasn’t it?
MEMORIAL DAY
Yes, we know it’s the start of summer
. . . it used to be the start of summer vacations
. . . it used to be trips and vacation spots
hotdogs, potato salad, family gatherings,
it used to be a lot of fun. . .
It was different this year
and maybe not even because of the pandemic. . .
Maybe it’s because we remember different this year;
maybe right now even in the midst of
our-at-the-very-moment heartbeats,
we are writing a History
no book has ever held. . .
And maybe
MEMORIAL DAY
with all of its modifications this year
is even more special
than all the years that we’ve celebrated it
in the past. . .
And just maybe
that’s what will remember
about this
MEMORIAL DAY
Instead of us commemorating it,
IT
now commemorates each and everyone of us
in the most special and significant way. . .
Maybe. . .
With a most
sincere
honest
pure
Parade of One
(y o u)
(NOTE THE REASON FOR THIS SPECIAL
SECOND BLOG POST ON MEMORIAL DAY
IS A THING OF RECOGNITION AND HONOR FOR):
Psssssssssssssssssssssssssssssst:
I HATE TO LOSE
I always have;
I’m not a sore loser;
a bad loser
but it has a way
of not just messing up my day
BUT DAYS. . .
In fact,
I’m so competitive
I’ll try and beat myself
trying to make it through a closing door
walking faster than I walked a route yesterday
doing one more thing than I feel is possible
YOU NAME IT
I’m ON IT. . .
JILL SUTTIE, a freelance journalist sort of brought things to light during a fairly dark time for us. In the midst of the coronavirus outbreak, we are seeing many acts of kindness and even heroism. Neighbors look out for one another by buying groceries or sing songs together. When doctors, nurses, and paramedics ran out of masks, people donated or sewed new ones.
But not all people act kindly when feeling threatened. There are those who hoard medical supplies or refuse to stay physically distant from others. Sadly, some become more selfish when they think we’re competing against each other for survival.
How can we avoid reacting in self-serving or vindictive ways during the pandemic? A new study suggests that practicing a little gratitude may be useful.
In this study, participants from the National University of Singapore played the “Trucking Game”—a research tool that measures how people bargain or cooperate in conflict situations. In the game, players try to get from point A to B as quickly as possible, while opponents can assist or block players at will. The game is over when both players reach their end point.
Before playing the game, some participants were asked to write about a situation that made them feel grateful, while others recalled events that brought them joy or were emotionally neutral (like their daily routine). When it came time for participants to play the game, they didn’t know the other player wasn’t a real person but a set of preprogrammed, highly competitive moves.
Participants had opportunities in the game to thwart the other player by blocking routes along the way or not stepping aside to let them pass, and many of the participants did so when faced with a competitive opponent. However, those induced to feel gratitude were much less likely to block their opponent’s progress than those who’d been primed to feel joy or no particular emotion.
While not entirely surprised by these findings, study coauthor Lile Jia was impressed by them—especially given how competition usually brings out our worst instincts.
“Showing that gratitude can ameliorate competitive impulses in this setting speaks to the potency of this emotion in reducing undesired competition,” says Jia.
To further test these results, he and his colleagues set up another experiment, this time using a random group of Americans of various ages (instead of the original group of Singaporeans, to see how culture might affect results). Participants were told they would be paired with another player (though, actually, there was no other player) to compete in a moderately difficult and timed word game. Before playing the game, they were induced to feel either gratitude or a neutral emotion.
After playing the game—in which participants were always told they lost—the researchers showed them a narrative describing their opponent as either competitive or not very competitive. The idea was that losing to a very competitive person might make participants feel more upset about losing and make them want to punish their opponent.
After “losing,” participants were told that their opponents would be entering another competition that involved solving anagrams for a chance to win a cash prize. The participants could choose one of three clues to help their opponent solve the anagrams more quickly, with clues ranging from least helpful (“it starts with the letter P”) to most helpful (“it starts with the letter P and it’s an organ in your body”). Choosing less helpful clues was considered a form of vindictiveness.
Results showed that participants induced to feel gratitude were much more likely to give the most helpful clues than participants in a neutral mood. Even under circumstances where they might want revenge, people who felt grateful were less likely to be vindictive.
“Sabotaging their partner’s chance of winning a lottery did not directly benefit the participants, who had already been eliminated from the competition—yet this harmful impulse existed,” says Jia. “Fortunately, the impulse got weakened among those induced to feel grateful.”
Why would gratitude reduce feelings of vindictiveness? Jia says it might be because grateful people are less selfish and show greater empathy toward others, in general. Given that people often respond to competition by becoming more competitive themselves—at the expense of others—it’s little wonder that gratitude might reduce this tendency.
Jia’s study adds to our understanding of the power of gratitude by showing how it helps people be kinder to others in unfavorable as well as favorable circumstances. This could have huge consequences when we are in situations where we may be tempted not to cooperate or to lash out at others—like during the current pandemic.
“In such threatening interactions, destructive behavioral cycles are easily established,” says Jia. “The present research underscores the potential of gratitude in stopping such destructive spirals.”
Jia points to other ways gratitude can help during the pandemic, too—by strengthening relationships and building a sense of community.
Research suggests that practicing gratitude helps people “gel,” he says, encouraging them to coordinate their actions toward a particular goal—something relevant to our current need to shelter in place. So long as cooperation is the norm in this situation, and grateful people don’t feel that they are being taken advantage of, encouraging more gratitude is all to the (greater) good.
Jia’s research reinforces the importance of practicing gratitude as we go through this pandemic. Not only will it help us be more cooperative, it’s good for our personal well-being, too—protecting our mental health and making us feel more positive and optimistic about the future.
“If we take a broader look at the benefits of gratitude, then the argument for encouraging feeling more gratitude becomes all the stronger,” says Jia.
Ohhhhhhh yesssss
I’m competitive
and most would never see or even imagine
that inner
F I G H T
always raging me
UNLESS THEY NOTICE
some of the good I attempt
(THIS IS MY BIGGEST DAILY COMPETITIVE EVENT)
just to be a little
better than the day
the afternoon
the morning before
the next one
and even when
I LOSE
. . .WE WIN
READY. . .
SET. . .
LET’S GO
(and never stop)
I shared this over three years ago under much different circumstances;
C I R C U M S T A N C E S
that could have never have been imagined
and far from understood
C I R C U M A T A N C E S
that still
even at our most current moment
are difficult to imagine
and feel far from being understood. . .
B U T
Maybe there’s another
a different way
of seeing
I T :
There is sowing your oats
and then there is serving them,
eating them
and digesting
all the goodness
that can’t begin to fit on a spoon,
in a bowl
or even on a cafeteria tray
or a table. . .
EAT UP!
and make a NOTE
of BEING
THE GOOD YOU MAKE