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Saturday, April 25, 2015

On Acceptance ~ A lesson

.... Worth reading

What the others will say.....

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An old man, staying in a small South Indian town came to visit his son in Bombay recently. 
The son in his early thirties is a successful businessman living with his wife and son. 

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The father, having spent most of his life at his birthplace, hardly understands a splatter of Hindi or English, forget Marathi (local languages). 
But he doesn't care. 'I have come here to spend a few days with my son and his family. I don't have to go out and socialize with the city people,' he said.

But the son is very excited about his father's rare visit to Bombay. He wants to make the best of it. He and his wife want to show him around the city. And yes, the son enjoys those evening hours too when he and his father go out and sit in a good bar, sipping their favorite drink.

Last week he was in a very good mood. 'Let's go to a five-star hotel's bar tonight,' he told his father. It was a beautiful evening. Talking about everything under the sun they had a few drinks. As usual they were offered some salad, peanuts, wafers etc .as accompaniments with their drinks. 

The old man being almost toothless was not much interested in eating. But that day when they got up to leave, he simply took a handful of chana (roasted grams) and stuffed it in the fold of his dhoti. He might have thought about munching on them, sitting in the car, or whatever.

Unfortunately, while walking in the lobby, he missed a step and stumbled. Down he went, scattering the chana on the plush carpet. 

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No problem ..... 
Now try to visualize that scenario. Someone else in his son's place would have been mortified, embarrassed to death. He might have cursed not his father but his own self for causing this awkward situation. 
'Never again will I take my old man to such hotels', he would have vowed.

No sir, not this son. Gently, with a smile, he helped his father get back on his feet. Instead of feeling irritated or angry, he was amused. He found the whole incident very funny. Laughing, they both went home and on the way they decided to return to the same place the following Sunday. The old man liked the place and liked the chana too.

Few days back, at a friend's place they both described this event and made everybody laugh. 

Weren't you embarrassed? Somebody asked the son. 'Oh, come on now' replied the son. 'He is my father. He talks in his native language, prefers to wear a dhoti even to a posh city hotel, takes chana from the bar to eat later, does whatever he feels like.... So what? Why should I feel embarrassed with his nature and habits?

Nobody has a right to stop him from doing whatever he feels comfortable with, as long as it is not harmful to others.' The son doesn't care what the staff in the hotel thought about that incident.
He says 'they should be concerned only with their bills and tips. I am concerned about my father's happiness.' 

The wife too totally agrees with the husband on this issue. She feels there are enough other qualities in her father- in- law to feel proud of. Accept them .
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The above incident is not mentioned just to show the love and devotion of a son for his father. 

More than love it is a matter of understanding and a healthy respect for the other person's lifestyle. A seventy plus old man doesn't want to change his lifestyle now. He likes the way he eats or dresses or talks. In his eyes, there is nothing wrong with the old ways of living. 

And the son says, ok, fine. Everybody has a right to live as per his wish. Now, at his age, why should he be forced to learn to eat with a fork and knife if he doesn't want to? I will feel bad if he is doing something morally wrong or indulging in some harmful activities. But otherwise it is fine. I am not going to try to change him at this stage. He is my father. I love him, respect him.
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Shared by an unknown friend. 

Saturday, April 4, 2015

What it actually means to be loving

Last Saturday, sitting in an empty restaurant with a bad internet connection, I got off Skype with a client, getting ready to do what I had to do next.
I sat with my head in my hands for a moment, feeling guilty about the thoughts and emotions inside of me, before I wrote this Facebook post.
I thought about deleting it. I thought about just leaving it in my personal files and never letting it see the light of day, because, after all, the restaurant is in Costa Rica, the Skype session had gone well, and these emotions—well, they just seemed a little too selfish.
A voice in my head said, “Maybe people will think you’re not as loving as you pretend to be.”
That was my cue. That’s the voice of my inner perfectionist. Now, I had to share.
My fingers trembled as I pressed “Publish.” And I’m so glad I did. Since I shared it, this post went wild on my Facebook author page and in my private community.
I think we all feel what I felt that day, especially those of us who provide support to people—even when we do it by choice, even when it’s our work, and even when we love it. We try our best to give and give. We try our best to be kind. And still, we are only human.
I think this is something we all need to hear.

Every Saturday, after I have a session with a beloved client, I call my grandfather. He lives alone.
My family is very broken apart and, through a series of terrible events, he’s wound up alone, not only physically, but emotionally. He does get food and all provided for him, but everyone dislikes him, and he only perpetuates that cycle by putting up this jagged personality to them.
They say he started it. He says something different.

To me, he’s a different person. No one sees him like this. Have you ever had a kid or a dog that just lights up when they see your face? Well, that’s how he is to me. His voice just changes when he hears mine. He sounds like a man who’s just won the lottery. His joy when he hears it’s me on the other end is like the joy of a child.

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Then, he tells me the same stories over. I think he’s got some brain damage from a previous stroke, because he retells things and he lies a lot.

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I guess my confession is—I don’t always want to call. And, when I don’t, I feel guilty. I feel like I should want to call, want to be there for him, want to be, as he says, “his only joy in the world.” I’m trying to get everyone else in the family to see him in a different light, to invite him over, to be kinder, but it’s slow—grueling.
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Seems like everyone’s got something else to worry about.

But, right now, I’m going to call. And I’m going to spend that hour. Because, sometimes, love is hard. Sometimes, love isn’t exciting. With my client, I get so excited, because she grows every time, and then I take that excitement to my grandfather, and it withers as we speak, because it’s all the same. And then, I have to forgive myself for this loss of enthusiasm and release my guilt over it. I’m just a human being. I am not a martyr. I am just a human being trying to do the right thing.
Not just with my grandfather, but this work in general, sometimes supporting people is really hard.
Sometimes, I’m going through my own things and I don’t share them and it builds up and I feel guilty for it building up.
Other times, I’m a self-care superstar. Sometimes, I am not.

At the end of the day, I’m just learning this as I go, just like you are. And I hope that, if my confession has any value to you, it’s to say that it’s okay—it’s okay to be where you are.

I’ve learned that, no matter how far you get, new challenges arise. New ways of being thrown into self-judgment and guilt and shame will always be around.

What matters is how we respond. What matters is our choice to love. And, honestly, I’m starting to think that doing it when it’s hard is what makes us into better people.
Because, anyone can love when it’s easy. But it takes work to love others when it’s hard and love ourselves through not being the perfect caretaker.
It’s not easy, but it is worth it. And so is being honest about how human I really am.
I hope you will do the same

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Link to the article on elephantjournal: