I am a master of the thank-you note. I know this because not only do I write a decent thank-you card, but I strive to infuse a tenor of gratitude into every card I write to anyone, be it for a birthday, a holiday, or for no good reason whatsoever. I used to think this tendency to slide into appreciation came from my hopeless sentimentality and nostalgia about everything; I see now that it’s rather because of the reactions – the recipient’s and my own – to the expression of gratitude.
Let’s start with the recipient’s reaction. This is probably obvious, but it bears mentioning: Everyone likes to be recognized for the good that they do. I don’t believe in incentivizing good deeds; in fact, it makes me very uncomfortable to think that people only do good, other-centered things with an eye on how it benefits themselves. At the same time, though, I believe very strongly that good deeds, and good people doing good deeds, deserve their due credit. And thanking someone for something they’ve done for you facilitates a self-sustaining cycle of support; support someone for supporting you, and chances are they’ll help you out again.
(NOTE: This is NOT the same as a one-for-one mentality, in which you repay every favor you receive in kind. That kind of perspective reduces the good deeds that form the basis of a support network to transactions, in which each party keeps a running tally of what they’ve given and what they’re owed – and no one is the better for it.)
Which brings us to my reaction. I love knowing that others know I appreciate them. Part of this stems from wanting to be polite; it also comes out of a desire for others to know that their small favors have not gone unnoticed. I’m beginning to realize now, however, that the power of saying thank you is greater than all of that; its power is not limited to treating others kindly and acknowledging their kindness in return but can be expanded to its ability to remind us that there are things in our lives to be grateful for. After all, saying thank you requires acknowledging that someone has done something to make your life better, easier, fuller, happier. And that is something worth remembering.
Live gratefully, if only to remind yourself that it’s not all bad out there.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
L I V E... | A F F E C T I O N A T E L Y |
The New York Times published an article recently attesting to the power of physical contact. While many academic fields have given time and resources over to the study of nonverbal communication, this is one of the first pieces I've ever read on the communicative abilities of physical touch.
"Momentary touches, they say — whether an exuberant high five, a warm hand on the shoulder, or a creepy touch to the arm — can communicate an even wider range of emotion than gestures or expressions, and sometimes do so more quickly and accurately than words."
As a woman who loves words, who believes deeply in the power of words to change and move people, the idea that touch can say more clearly what words fail to convey was somewhat eye-opening at first. And, of course, nothing can be boiled down to one factor - the student who excels does not excel only because her teacher touched her on the shoulder in encouragement - but it is interesting to consider that the way we reach out to others affects how they, and how we, manage our lives.
Even so, anecdotal evidence or not, it has always made sense to me on some level that there is power in physical touch. It’s a means of showing solidarity, of communicating to another person – to other people – that you are in it with them. I think of the times that I have been on the verge of tears, and a friend has reached out to me – it has always been that reaching out, that hug, that has sent me over the edge, possibly because that touch is the manifestation of what I am feeling inside. (In fact, I have explicitly asked friends not to touch me when I've been on the brink of breaking down, in some futile attempt to maintain control. Why do that, unless I knew that their touch would signal some emotional collapse in me?)
I also came to think about those people in my life who claim to be "bad at hugging" or who avoid physical contact. That - which has never made sense to me - began to be a little clearer after I read this piece, too. After all, if the power of touch to communicate is as strong as these writers say it is, then it takes a good deal of courage and strength to reach out to others. And it says so much more when a friend, who by all rights is aloof or distant, reaches out with sincere affection. I have a friend who kept his distance, for whom conversation wasn't necessarily his forte. My friendship with most people like this would fizzle out - the exception with this friend was that he knew how to give the best hugs. Full-out, open hugs with both arms that said, more than any of his other actions, that he cared.
The more I thought about it, then, the more I realized that the novel perspective of this article is not about the power of touch per se. Rather, if I took anything away from this piece, it's that the connection between our bodies, our minds, and the others in our lives is far more complex and runs far deeper than people seem willing to acknowledge. "The body interprets a supportive touch as 'I'll share the load.'" Communication, support, encouragement, comes in all forms - not simply in words on paper, on the screen, or spoken aloud.
Live affectionately to share the burden of this life with others.
"Momentary touches, they say — whether an exuberant high five, a warm hand on the shoulder, or a creepy touch to the arm — can communicate an even wider range of emotion than gestures or expressions, and sometimes do so more quickly and accurately than words."
As a woman who loves words, who believes deeply in the power of words to change and move people, the idea that touch can say more clearly what words fail to convey was somewhat eye-opening at first. And, of course, nothing can be boiled down to one factor - the student who excels does not excel only because her teacher touched her on the shoulder in encouragement - but it is interesting to consider that the way we reach out to others affects how they, and how we, manage our lives.
Even so, anecdotal evidence or not, it has always made sense to me on some level that there is power in physical touch. It’s a means of showing solidarity, of communicating to another person – to other people – that you are in it with them. I think of the times that I have been on the verge of tears, and a friend has reached out to me – it has always been that reaching out, that hug, that has sent me over the edge, possibly because that touch is the manifestation of what I am feeling inside. (In fact, I have explicitly asked friends not to touch me when I've been on the brink of breaking down, in some futile attempt to maintain control. Why do that, unless I knew that their touch would signal some emotional collapse in me?)
I also came to think about those people in my life who claim to be "bad at hugging" or who avoid physical contact. That - which has never made sense to me - began to be a little clearer after I read this piece, too. After all, if the power of touch to communicate is as strong as these writers say it is, then it takes a good deal of courage and strength to reach out to others. And it says so much more when a friend, who by all rights is aloof or distant, reaches out with sincere affection. I have a friend who kept his distance, for whom conversation wasn't necessarily his forte. My friendship with most people like this would fizzle out - the exception with this friend was that he knew how to give the best hugs. Full-out, open hugs with both arms that said, more than any of his other actions, that he cared.
The more I thought about it, then, the more I realized that the novel perspective of this article is not about the power of touch per se. Rather, if I took anything away from this piece, it's that the connection between our bodies, our minds, and the others in our lives is far more complex and runs far deeper than people seem willing to acknowledge. "The body interprets a supportive touch as 'I'll share the load.'" Communication, support, encouragement, comes in all forms - not simply in words on paper, on the screen, or spoken aloud.
Live affectionately to share the burden of this life with others.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
L I V E...
After finishing graduate school, I went out to lunch with some friends and professors. I was exuberant, of course, and I thrilled to the idea of no longer being a student of the institution where I had received my bachelor's and my master's degrees in succession. One professor turned to me, asking why I said that like it was a good thing. I turned to him and said, "It is a good thing. It's the start of something new."
Having now started this next stage of my life - as a young professional, I guess - I am realizing that I have some decisions to make about how I want to live the rest of my life. And during my many years as a student, I learned that I work through things best by writing about them. - Hence, my decision to join the blogosphere. To be honest, I write this to write - not necessarily for others to read. That said, I do welcome others to read and, should they feel so compelled, to join in this conversation I will be having with myself.
Having now started this next stage of my life - as a young professional, I guess - I am realizing that I have some decisions to make about how I want to live the rest of my life. And during my many years as a student, I learned that I work through things best by writing about them. - Hence, my decision to join the blogosphere. To be honest, I write this to write - not necessarily for others to read. That said, I do welcome others to read and, should they feel so compelled, to join in this conversation I will be having with myself.
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