It begins the moment we start to feel like what we do doesn’t matter.

“It” is discouragement. A sense of futility. The feeling that a day is little more than a hamster’s wheel. That direction, balance and time are out of our control.

Tuning in makes it worse. Contention and rancor simmer barely beneath the surface…from media voices to the workplace water cooler, from social circles to living room interactions.

At times it feels like the consequential decisions of the day are being made somewhere else by disinterested or, at best, disconnected others.

As a result we realize we are in retreat…from interaction. From creative disruption. From any sense of agency.

The more we retreat, the more disconnected we feel. A sense of helplessness and despair show up as strange, unwelcome companions.

If we’re fortunate a friend is near with a shoulder to lean on. Or a colleague underscores our value. Or a loved one reminds us of what really matters.

It doesn’t take much. Just a word. A note. An easy conversation. And a semblance of balance returns.

You do make a difference!

The Art of Believing

This week in the United States a welcome season is upon us. The hamster wheel slows. The dissonance of the marketplace eases. Many will gather around tables and focus on the things we’re grateful for.

In these grateful moments a measure of equilibrium returns. As we scan the table, or gather to cheer a favorite team…or even as thoughts turn to an empty chair, we find a sense of balance again.

What we do matters.

But when the season ends, when everything begins to swirl and the world presses in again… often it’s a different story.

So this the perfect time to reconnect with the artist that lives within each of us.

It’s there. It is the one who created the crayon picture of the family posted on the refrigerator for all those years. It is the one who turned the living room into a theater to perform an original play. It is that early you who loved to imagine…who lived to play.

Then, somewhere on the outer edge of childhood we learned to repress the artist within. Experiences insisted that childish creativity had no place at the adult table, where life is a matter of survival. Where Winning-is-the-Only-Thing is, if not the credo, the subtext that promises purpose.

The news worth celebrating is this: the loss of equilibrium we feel in today’s marketplace is a message from the edge of our youth, saying “maybe it is time to rethink things. Maybe we should pull out the crayons again.”

What if we were to risk listening to that voice?. What if we were to blend what the child instinctively knew with the instructive lessons we’ve picked up along the way?

Here’s what might happen.

We might listen differently. And when we listen differently, those around us might feel seen. When people sense that they are seen there is a chance for a real conversation. Real conversations might break out. And just like that, we’ve introduced a lost art into our homes and our communities.

From there…who knows.

Take Heart

It is easy to believe that one voice can’t accomplish much. That our reach is to small.

But the uneasiness you feel as you read that line is the young artist within…fighting that notion.

This is not a gloss over job. But as all of us, in one way or another, work to make sense of a world that feels louder, harsher, more divided than we it used to be, we must not grow too weary to remember that even the simplest acts can make a difference. For example,

  • Who makes your life better? Tell them today.
  • Who would give anything if someone would pause long enough for a real conversation with them? You can make that happen.
  • What is one small act of kindness you can offer this week? Write it down, and take action.
  • What is one thing…maybe a buried curiosity or hope…that is asking to be invited back to the table? Be brave. Take the risk.

We don’t have to fix the headlines. We don’t have to mend everything that is broken. We sure don’t have to have all the answers.

But we must remember that our presence carries weight. Our actions ripple. Our voices, our crayon drawings, our simple acts of kindness…these matter.

So be grateful. Don’t lose heart. You do make a difference. And for this I am grateful.