I’ll open an umbrella inside or stroll under a ladder without a second thought. I don’t have lucky socks or a special game day jersey.
I am pragmatic to a fault. However, when it comes to flipping the calendar from the tenth to the eleventh month, I am, as Stevie Wonder said, very superstitious.
November has been downright hateful to me. It took my mom and my little brother. Although I know that the two worst days of my life falling within the same 30 day time span two years apart is nothing more than a heartbreaking coincidence, it still makes me grind my teeth and hold my breath as the revelry of Halloween fades into the month of thanks.
In addition to the dreadful dates that this month holds, it is also a deep reminder of all the words I left unspoken between my mom and me and my brother and me. As I dealt with my grief and my regrets, I decided that I would make a concerted effort to tell the people I love how I feel about them. It is something that I try to do all the time, but especially during November.
This year, I bought a t-shirt that says, “Practice Radical Empathy”, as a tangible reminder of what I want to do. Because here’s the thing; empathy ain’t always easy. It certainly doesn’t come naturally nor easily to me. I didn’t have a lot of it for my mom or brother.
And, that is why I have to practice all the time – to get better.
I run drills where I remind myself that for the most part what everyone desires most is to be valued and to be loved and that when they do something or say something that makes me feel unloved or unvalued, it’s often not actually about me.
Now, do I always run my plays with grace? Hell no.
When my daughter wept in my car because she was being bullied, I wanted to burn everything to the ground – despite knowing that the bully was probably hurt and scared much like I was at that age.
When two of my best friends unceremoniously cut me out of their lives last year, I dreamed of them waking up with horse heads in their beds (ok, maybe I still do dream of this one…to quote Allen Iverson, we talkin’ ‘bout practice).
When I feel slighted or irritated, my normally warm, verbose responses turn cold and monosyllabic.
These are not things that I am proud of. These are things that I need to work on – day in and day out.
I am never going to be the empathy G.O.A.T., but I am going to be the empathy sled dog. I will put in the work. I will continue to practice radical empathy – even when I want to do anything else. Practice, well, that’s where we get good.
This article was written by a guest blogger. The opinions expressed here are those of the writer and do not reflect the opinions of Bob Lacey, Sheri Lynch or the Bob & Sheri show.
Soshally Awkward
Sosha Lewis is a writer whose work has been featured in The Washington Post, Huffington Post, MUTHA Magazine and The Charlotte Observer. She writes about her sometimes wild, sometimes hilarious, sometimes heartbreaking past filled with free-lunches, a grimy sports bar, a six foot tall Albino woman who tried to save her teenage soul, felonious, drug addicted parents, an imaginary friend named Blueberry and growing up nestled in the coal-dusted mountains of West Virginia.
