Steeling Their Courage

Click on the title of this post to connect to a wonderful story from the Boston Globe on how steel workers on the new center at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute are connecting to the pediatric cancer patients watching from their windows across the way.

For me the story highlights many wonderful truths; how easy it is to give courage to someone, the power of the written word, especially our own names and the value of human connection (more on those later).

A couple of days ago a good friend relayed a happy hour conversation about me and my ability to poke, prod, wheedle and coax people out of their comfort zones to accomplish things they never knew they could, all while making it a comfortable or pleasant experience. (I'm paraphrasing... maybe embellishing.) What made me happy about the comment was the last part, that challenging people to reach for all that I see inside them, isn't a negative experience for them. It certainly isn’t for me.

Giving someone courage is as easy as communicating your confidence that they are capable of enduring, overcoming, achieving or winning the challenge before them. Your opinion of whether they will or won't, whether it will be hard or painful is not relevant - but simply communicating that you know they are capable, that they can – well – it often has a huge effect. That's all most people need to know to find it within themselves the motivation to move forward. To see that such a simple small act on our part can help others achieve great and difficult tasks - that feels really, really good.

The picture at the top of this post is of two close friends just after their first 10K race last April. Don’t they look genuinely happy? Amy had had the 10K in her sights for a while, I’m sure, when I suggested it a month before. Mike, on the other hand, had no such foolish illusions. In our conversations about running, what I did sense within him, though, was that he didn’t really feel tested with the 5Ks he’d been doing for years. That he knew he was capable of more. That’s all I needed to see to ‘encourage’ him to try it. I’ll bet he tells a different story about my methods, but as it has come to pass, he also finished his first half-marathon last year and still doesn't feel he has reached his limit. (I'm not surprised at all.) And you know what that means, right Mike?

Wayde’s inaugural 5K was out in Sedona a few weeks ago and Jason’s is coming up in March and I’m just thrilled every time one of the dozens that I’ve encouraged to run crosses the finish line. I share in their celebration. Not just of their running, but of their willingness to test themselves, test their limits. It becomes addicting, seeing just what you are capable of, and maybe even trying something, you had always dreamt of, or had never dared to dream of... Its a beautiful thing to watch unfold in the lives of your friends and loved ones.

I don't think I have any special abilities to 'see' inside people, to sense their abilities, their hopes, dreams and fears. But they are almost always very clear to me. It’s usually written all over them, in their body language, the tone they use when discussing certain subjects, the interest they show when listening to others. Sometimes it’s easier when you know them well, but sometimes that makes it harder because you see our own version of them (some would accuse me of this). But whenever I see an opportunity to convey support, sincerely, I don't hold back. What may seem like a little or insignificant thing at the time, taking the risk that they would care that I care, is usually a huge boost for them. Because it is that, underneath it all, that I am communicating – that I care. Its not as risky as it sounds because I haven't found anyone yet who didn't appreciate knowing that somebody cared about them.

They say the devil is in the details, reflecting that it’s often the little things that get us down or trip us up. Don't sweat the details, right? But it’s also the positive little things that can save us, that can change our views internally. Turning the mundane into a gift by simple gestures can communicate how often we think of someone or how deeply we value them. Martha Stewart has made millions off that simple truth. We can enrich our own lives and those we love by embracing it too.

Compliments, encouragement, support, celebration and sharing; those are at the core of giving courage to others. They’re free, painless to give and usually return tenfold. In this economic climate, that’s a hell of an exchange!

The Timelessness of Friendships

From the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy – Friendship
“Friendship is a distinctively personal relationship that is grounded in a concern on the part of each friend for the welfare of the other, for the other's sake, and that involves some degree of intimacy. As such, friendship is undoubtedly central to our lives, in part because the special concern we have for our friends must have a place within a broader set of concerns, including moral concerns, and in part because our friends can help shape who we are as persons. “

So what is it about some friendships that you can lose sight of each other for months or years and yet within minutes of a phone call or visit, you find yourself back in that sweet spot of mutual understanding, a common sense of humor and platonic intimacy?


These thoughts came bubbling up as I sat alone at the bar at SBC’s in Branford waiting for my family to join me for dinner. Just after I arrived, a couple of guys walked in talking animatedly, laughing loudly, back-slapping and carrying-on, just having met up in the parking lot. Within minutes they were joined by two more in a similar manner and the conversation continued with guesses and pronouncements as to who would brave the elements for their social event (it was between rain and snow since early afternoon hours before). They pulled out cell phones and began strong-arming anyone who answered from home. Drinks were ordered and sometimes treated, one friend to another as a surprise. I sat there drinking it all in, an addicted people-watcher, trying to catch all the little conversations, trying to imagine their stories…

Their stories are long.

Did I mention that not a single one of the two dozen that eventually crowded the bar looked under the age of 75? Or acted over the age of 25? That’s what was fascinating to me. Their playfulness, sense of familiarity, the evidence of deep bonds, and the mischievousness – it betrayed nothing about their ages. The only truly unusual aspect was that nearly 18 of the two dozen ordered wine and just barely a handful still able to sling back beers. Promptly at 6:30, they headed to a back room and the aha! - Rotary, Loins or whatever - hit me. I also noticed the stiff legged limp of more than a few and calculated that most of them had likely seen and fought in the Korean War. You couldn’t tell any of that by the rich and genuine depth of their laughter though. You could only tell that they had been getting together like this for a very long time now.


I still had time at the bar to reflect on the scene before my own clan arrived. Time to think about my friends, how ridiculously silly and immature we can be when we’re together even though we’ve ‘grown up’; gotten jobs, got married, became parents, moved far, far away and dealt with things way more serious than we had ever encountered when we first met. There are the Orange Dress stories (to come, I promise), the ‘Duct Tape’ parties (I will find those pictures), the summer’s eve dinners in the backyard of the Eastern European grad students (the vodka flowed like water but you’ll never find more graceful Waltzers), climbing road trips and hiking vacations. The best part of those get-togethers is how young you feel in the midst of it, usually the same age as when you met, or first bonded for whatever mundane or bizarre reasons. There’s a sweet affinity for your closest friends, a fierce loyalty, reluctance to judge, a sincere longing for their happiness, a deep wish that they’ll turn to you for support when they need it and a hope that you’ll always find time for one another.

Those are the best friendships. The long ones. They keep you young. But there are lots of other kinds of friendships, and they all keep you young if you allow their sincerity to infect your soul.


There are situational friendships – I think of the time spent in Mississippi helping clean up after Katrina, infinitely rich layered experiences over the course of a few days starting out as virtual strangers and ending close as family. And there are instantaneous friendships; the moment shared in the checkout line when you realize you went to the same high school more than 500 miles away, on the sidelines of your kid’s soccer game when you share anxieties for every fall, every missed play, the nervous idle chatter of two triathlon newbies waiting for the race to start, the first time flyer next to you on the plane for an international flight. They are opportunities to connect, to find commonality, to communicate interest or caring for another person, for no other reason than the pleasure it gives both of you.


Really good friends I call keepers. I would like to always have them around because they add something valuable to my life. They are of all ages, political and religious stripes, life situations, professions. They cover a broad spectrum of beliefs, goals, hopes and dreams. When I think of each one of them, it is often a single trait that stands out; the sheer volume and depth of Jane’s laughter, the youth of Wayde’s giggle, the breadth of Joe's smile, the drama of Bwana, DaveZ and Tamara, the slapstick mishaps of Rebecca and Mike, the hyperactivity of Annette and Mikita, the corruptiveness of Jason and MOG, the willingness of Kathleen, Christy, the mischievousness of Martina, Mick, Taco and Woody, the hilarious cynicism of Sarah, Bart and Joanne, the fringe preferences of Nathan – and here I feel a bit like Miss Judy from Romper Room, looking through her magic hand-mirror, saying hello to all her friends at home, the boys and girls that watch her show – I have many, many more and I’m thankful for each one of them.


Finally, for those of us lucky enough, there are the friendships of our families. Hopefully, our spouses or significant others, our brothers and sisters, our parents, our children. I remember how grown up I felt when my friendship with my mom first blossomed, one woman to another, when I was in high school. And I remember how good it felt to rediscover the friendship with my sister, now elective since we had moved away from one another, after her first child was born. With my own daughter, I hope I am laying the groundwork for a bond beyond parent-child that will help us through the approaching teen years and all their excitement.

Maybe the sense of timelessness that comes from the experience of friendship has everything to do with their ability to get us in touch with our true selves, which is often found in doing something for the sheer pleasure of it, but when it is shared, our enjoyment is reflected in the smiles and laughter of those we feel close to. Maybe. And maybe it’s as simple as this; laughter, the key ingredient of any friendship, feels really, really good and is easier to share, with one or many, than the big-O (not Obama), which is also timeless. (I hope you’re laughing now.)