Forever Enough

“You’re no good, you never were any good and you never will be any good!” was my father’s way of expressing his love to me. Though I knew his tongue was in his cheek, I’m sure it set in motion that little doubting voice that sits on our shoulder and got me trying to win his approval. The other day, I stumbled on an old birthday card he sent me on my 29^th birthday and read this: 

 

It’s your 29^th birthday and your mother and I are proud of you. We are proud of: 

            • Your fine character

            • Your loving nature

            • Your talent

            • Your tolerance for people

            • Your affinity to your family

We love you!

 

Well, that was a welcome surprise. On many levels. Not only the move from sarcasm to sincerity, but the idea that those qualities were present when my frontal lobes were still developing and visible to others. Needless to say, it’s a reminder I treasure. 

 

But the thing about praise is that it’s never quite enough. Like money to John D. Rockefeller (one of America’s early billionaires). When he was asked, “How much money is enough?” he answered, “Just a little bit more.” When you get affirmation from the outside about the things you care about, it is, of course, gratifying. But then you want more. That’s why Facebook was invented! All those “likes” and affirming comments from the friends and “friends” you choose give you the dopamine rushes we all crave. But then it becomes a kind of addiction, and we want more. 

 

It also spoils us from being able to receive genuine criticism. Between Facebook and comments people write to me after participating in my workshops or guest teaching at their schools, I have a lot of testimony that I’m fun, kind, caring, a little bit talented and all-around-good-guy. Of course, part of me (that little voice on my shoulder) knows that some of this feels like imposter syndrome and I’m thinking, “If only they knew!” But I actually do try to cultivate those qualities my Dad noticed and it means a lot to me when others can see them at work and express appreciation.

 

This on my mind because I got an e-mail yesterday from someone who really laid into me about something that happened two years ago. There was a grain of truth in his description of the incident that I own up to, but his interpretation of what happened felt exaggerated, his language unduly harsh and his anger a bit of surprise having not heard anything about it for two years! So in the way we’re made, of course, my shackles went up and I felt defensive and was ready to call other people who witnessed the incident to get their viewpoint and righteously defend myself in an e-mail response. 

 

But it’s always a good idea to not respond to anything like this right away, to breathe through it and to decide if I want to be “right” or understanding. It’s fine and natural to imagine all the possible responses and even write some (without sending them!). That’s a part of the way we work through conflict. This incident had to do whether I’d ever be invited to do this particular work again and he reluctantly agreed that I could be. So in the end, I just wrote: “My deepest apologies and thank you for your generous forgiveness.” 

 

A good reminder that we all of us are ever-flowing and ever-changing verbs and no matter what we accomplish or what acts of kindness we manage to offer the world, we all screw up time and time again. So why not just own it, apologize and move on? 

 

I bought a book of poetry by Ron Padgett the other day and found this delightful poem titled Forever Enough:

 

I put some stamps

on the envelope, maybe enough,

I don’t know.

The post office

should accept it

as is, because

I made an effort.

The post office should look

at the envelope and say,

“Well, he made an effort.”

 

Brilliant! At the end of the day, having mailed my love letters to the World, the best anyone can say is, “Well, he made an effort.”