Sixteen years ago for my 50th birthday, my sister Sherry asked some family and friends of hers to write something about me so she could bind it up and give it to me as a gift. Very thoughtful. And beautifully put together with many of her sketches and drawings.

Earlier this year, as I was cleaning out the garage (a seemingly non-stop process going on 20 years now, since the year we moved in), I came across her gift and put it aside to read later (perhaps for the first time) which I did a few days ago. 

I couldn't bring myself to read all of them, but the ones I read were very nice and it was obvious that people for the most part had put a great deal of time into thinking of what to say.  All of them were really wonderful, but two of them were my favorites. 

The first was from her friend Craig who wrote, "I can't recall with any degree of certainty whether or not I ever actually met your brother though I do remember you telling me that he was planning to ride his bike across the country. I'm not even sure whether he did it. But anyway, HAPPY BIRTHDAY to the young man! (Ed. Note: I don't believe we ever did meet, but I appreciate his effort regardless.)

The other favorite was, sadly, unsigned, but what the person wrote was stunning. Among other things, the person wrote: "There are all kinds of things I do in your honor. I think of it as a commonality between us; doing things "in honor of". I think I told you, but it bears repeating, my therapist once asked me to list the people I most admired. I told him that I wanted to be like Gandhi, or you. It would be too mushy for me to outline those characteristics. You have to wait 'til you're on your deathbed." 

And then the person went on to list all the ways I became a better person than when they first knew me back in the 1970's. So on the one hand, the person has known me a pretty long time, and knows me quite well. On the other, if they are putting me on a short list with Gandhi, maybe not so much.

Regardless, I was incredibly moved and honored by their words, and was very much regretting not knowing who it was who wrote it. But as I thought about it more, I realized that in a way, to dwell on that, or the writer's kind words, in the spirit of Gandhi, perhaps it best not to dwell on either the author or the sentiment but to merely accept the thought with gratitude and move on.

As Gandhi said: 

"The first condition of humaneness is a little humility and a little diffidence about the correctness of one's conduct and a little receptiveness."

I was going through a tough time recently, and was trying to sort through why, when I concluded that I felt like a napkin ring. Sort of useful but easily done without, not really good for much, and always just kind of there. So after a few days when the thought inevitably passed, and after I'd gotten over my murky self, I realized that lots of people probably felt the same way from time to time, so I decided henceforth that I would endeavor to not to let any day go by without validating at least one person. Honestly, it's not much of a commitment. I like to think I was doing that already. 

This should probably be a separate post but it's not totally unrelated. And I'm taking you into a dangerous place known as Jamie World. I may even have written about this before, but it saddens me in the smallest of ways that people who love each other rely only on saying "Love ya!" to each other but can't seem to bring themselves to say "I love you". Perhaps the same reason I react that way is the reason people are hesitant to say it - it is so much more meaningful and even leaves one vulnerable to not getting the return "I love you", because if you don't get it back, "that's a pretty big matzo ball hanging out there."

And along those same lines, at least in my mind, is the topic of The Hug. To me, there is only one kind of acceptable hug, and that is an all-in, full body, at least from the waist up, embrace. If one isn't comfortable with what might seem invasive, that's fine, but should be communicated. If the hug is going to just be some version of a lean in, or a mild touching of shoulders, then it feels like a weak, floppy handshake, which we've all experienced.

You are now encouraged to leave Jamie World.

 I don't believe I've posted anything about sex lately, or terribly much else for that matter, though possibly much that is terrible, so I'll post my favorite quote about sex here:

"There is hardly anyone whose sexual life, if it were broadcast, would not fill the world at large with surprise and horror."

- W. Somerset Maugham

Cleaning out the garage I came across of a few of my old journals, one of which is circa-1978, the year I graduated from college and another from the early-to-mid 90's which mostly consisted of random lists and thoughts, sort of a blog before there were blogs.

Here are a few of the entries:

"If someone says something that's really deep, but it's over my head, how low must I be?

 - Me to Fred Chapin 2-28-1993

Love not Hate

Sailboats not Motorboats

Sneakers not Shoes

Baseball not Football

Watercolors not Oils

Democrat not Republican

Listening not Talking

Icing not Cake

"It's raining now. I love the sound of rain. It is its own song."

 - my "friend" Charlotte in a January 1993 letter to me from New Mexico

 

I was reading this interesting opinion piece in the NY Times this week and was both impressed and a little envious as to the clear intellect and talent level of the author, Ezra Klein. And I wondered what it would be like to be that smart, not to mention talented.

And that got me to thinking as to whether I'd rather be really smart or a really great athlete. I decided I'd rather be a really great athlete because I think being that smart makes one all the more troubled by what's going on in the world.

But that's probably not very smart.

And then I thought, if I could one one of the ten best in the world at something, what would it be? 

How about you?

Maybe we should just go with

People.

Same as we've been trying to do.

Things I just don't get, and don't expect that I ever will, that others people just looove:

• Any Quentin Tarantino film
• Nascar
• Donald Trump
• Mixing fruit and chocolate
• Mixing fruit
• Bok Choy
• Ultimate Fighting, or whatever they call it
• Powerboats
• Organized religion
• Anything mint-flavored...except mints.
• Fast food
• TV shows that center around cops, lawyers, detectives, doctors
• Reality TV

Please don't shoot the messenger. (I said please!)

I'm not sure a thought like this is what George Fox was looking for when he founded Quakerism 3-400 years ago, but this is what came to me in Meeting this morning regardless:

I wonder...were murder legal, if we would all be nicer to each other.