There’s a business communication exercise that asks you to consider what you mean when you wish someone a “great night” and what you think that person understands.
A “great night” could mean anything. It could mean your kids go straight to bed and don’t try to con you into getting them 10 glasses of water. Maybe it’s solitude and striper fishing at sunset. Maybe a great night is sticking to your diet, belly-laughing with friends, or simply making it to morning so you can start all over again with your head still on straight.
The business application is that the most simple, straightforward thought isn’t as simple and straightforward as you assume. Everyone has a personal filter full of family dynamics, history and experience.
The broader life application is that you never know what’s going on in someone else’s life.
I had the honor to develop a fellowship, a course to teach high school kids the art and science of journalism, and recruit seven students for the first cohort. These incredible kids just graduated from our program and are about to go to college, many with plans to pursue journalism. The fellowship did what it was designed to do. It gave students an opportunity to learn, exposed them to new ideas and opened possibility. I’m thrilled and I’m proud. And I’m humbled because the program’s greatest accomplishment has nothing to do with journalism.
We gathered to celebrate our fellows, wish the graduating group well on their next adventure, and welcome the new group we had just accepted into the program. Each of our graduates spoke about what they would take away from the experience. I listened to all the things I hoped I’d hear and one thing I never expected: One of our fellows shared that she went through a period of depression and, although we didn’t know it, the fellowship made a difference for her. She was struggling, and coming to class and being in a supportive environment with kind people and stretch goals helped her. She learned new skills, learned about herself, and learned there’s help around, help in all sorts of forms, when you need it.
Her advice to the fellows just starting out? Know that you’re going to be depressed and you’re going to be afraid, and you can handle both as long as you’re never depressed or afraid alone. Just because someone’s in your life for one thing doesn’t mean they can’t help with another. Support is always there if you tap into it.
Another student talked about showing up for class and knowing she was expected and something was expected of her. We were consistent and she needed that and us. She told me you never really know who you’re helping or how you’re helping just by showing up.
I knew we’d teach students about journalism. I didn’t know the program would also be a safety net, and I didn’t know they’d teach me about life.
It’s impossible to live in a rural area like Harpswell without developing a safety net of neighbors. When your car breaks down or winter has kept you inside one too many days or you need to shock your well and don’t know how or you want to walk the loop at Mitchell Field and have a chat or you just love good food and better company — you need friends and neighbors.
We all need to weave connections of every kind to be healthy and happy. And we need to look out for and appreciate those who help us just by showing up.
With friends and family far away, I seem to make a lot of trips to the post office. When I go, I know I’ll see Ted Barber behind the counter and he’ll make my errand feel like a visit and not a chore. I went last week to mail a way overdue Christmas gift (please don’t judge me more than I judge myself) and he and I chatted about health and health care, vacations and everyday stuff. He told me he enjoys my columns and likes the positive focus.
Every compliment is lovely and appreciated and lands just right. That one, in that moment, was a spark.
Ted didn’t know it, but I’d been struggling with what to write, and standing in the post office that day, because of the consistency and kindness of a friend and neighbor, the creative impasse in my brain broke and I knew exactly what I wanted to say.
Showing up, every day, matters to someone. It probably matters more than we’ll ever know. Each of us, in our own way and just by being our authentic self, is enough.
My high school fellows know it. My friends and neighbors know it. I know it too. And now that I’ve shared it with you, I wish you all the greatest of nights.
