The people who say you are not facing
reality actually mean that you are
not facing their idea of reality.

Margaret Halsey

We're made, mostly, by the people who surround us.  We make each other every day.  I'm constantly telling this to people.  They say, "Oh, loving is so difficult."  I say, "Don't you know how easy it is?  Loving is simple.  It's we who are complex."  Loving means offering the hassled waitress a "Thank you.  That was great."

I ate recently at a real greasy spoon in Arizona.  It was one of those places that you walk in and the odor is enough.  Even the rats have deserted.  But the food was really good.  I had ordered pork chops, and somebody said, "You're crazy.  You're gonna die!  Nobody eats pork chops in a place like this."

I said, "But they smell so good!"  And someone down at the end was having them, and he had an enormous dish!  These pork chops were huge!  And so I ordered the pork chops, and they were magnificent.  After it was over, I said to the waitress, "You know, I'd really like to meet the chef."  And she said, "Was there something wrong?"

I said, "No, I want to tell this guy how beautiful it was."

She said, "Oh, my God.  No one's ever done that."  And we walked back, and he was back there sweating.  He was a big man.

And he said, "Whatsa matter?"

I said, "Nothing.  Those pork chops were just fantastic and those potatoes!  They were really wonderful.  I've eaten at some of the best restaurants in the world, and they were as good."

He looked at me like, "God, this man's out of his mind."  And then do you know what he said, (because it was so awkward for him to receive a compliment)--he said, "Would you like another?"  Isn't that beautiful?  That's love.  That's all it means.  It means sharing joy with people.  When you see something beautiful, it means going over and telling them.  When you see something lovely, say to them, "You're lovely."  And then back away!  Because it's going to scare the hell out of them.

One of the funniest experiences I've ever had--maybe I've even told this to some of you--but it occurs to me now and it's such a beautiful kind of example.  I saw this lovely girl on campus.  She had golden hair and it was billowing in the sun.  It looked so special.  I passed her by and it flashed on me:  What beautiful hair that girl has.  And then as I walked by I thought, I should tell her.  So I spun around and I charged back toward her.  And she could sort of feel me, you know how you can do.  She turned around like "AAAACK!"  And I said, "Don't be scared.  All I want to do is tell you that you have the most beautiful hair with the sun on it, it's a real trip.  I just really liked it.  Thank you very much.

And then I moved away, because I know about the psychological premise of approach-avoidance.  You know, the further you get from the feared object?  So I moved slowly away, and as I got further and further away, it began to dawn on her that someone had paid her a compliment.  And she started to smile.  And by the time I got to the university entrance, she even waved and said, "Thank you."  It seemed to me that as she walked away, she stood ever taller, bringing her closer to the sun.

What's so difficult about that?  We have these opportunities every single day of our lives, and we don't take them.  We start with those people around us.  We teach them self-respect and we make sure that everybody leaves with their beautiful compliment that day.  People say, "Oh, but Buscaglia, that's artificial."  It doesn't have to be artificial when you really see it.  Don't tell me the people around you don't deserve an occasional compliment.  What's artificial about that?

. . . . And it never hurts anybody to be told that they are loved, to say to somebody, "I love you."  People say--especially this is true of men--"Oh, she knows I love her.  I don't have to tell her I love her."  Oh really?  When she's gone, then maybe you'll wonder why.  It's a simple thing to say, "I love you."  And if you can't say it, write it.  If you can't write it, dance it.  But say it!  And say it many times.  One never tires of it.  One may say, "Oh, never mind telling me that.  I know . . . "  But it's so nice to hear.
  

Hope and Frustration

They're strange bedfellows, these two.  There are times when my frustration is so strong that hope seems like an impossibility--there's no reason to feel it if it's not going to hang around all the time, right?

But there are other times when hope is right here, available, helpful, keeping frustration at bay.  And those are the times when the sunlight looks a bit brighter, when the sky is a bit bluer, when the songs of the birds are even more beautiful than usual.

Most of my current frustration, of course, has to do with not having a job.  Having lost my job through no fault of my own (as millions of others have) and finding that there really aren't too many jobs out there and lots of applicants for each of them, I'm in a situation now that I've never been in before, and it is difficult to deal with.  It's very frustrating to know, for example, that I'm basically overqualified for most jobs in my field:  as a teacher with a doctorate, any school that hires me would have to put me higher on their pay scale, so when they see the Ph.D. on my resume, they automatically don't consider me.  They don't have that extra money these days, and next year's budgets look even more dismal.

The frustration, then, is that as far as education is concerned, I really have no control over my own destiny.  I've lost my job because of far-reaching economic factors, and I'm having difficulty finding a job for the same reasons.

So what do I do with the frustration?  After all, there are times when it threatens to overwhelm me, when it seems like it's going to become the defining element of who I am these days.  But do I really want to present myself to the whole world as a frustrated person, rather than a hopeful person or an optimistic person?

After all, there still is hope, even if those hopes don't run along traditional lines.  My wife and I discussed the situation yesterday, and we both realized that we may be losing our house soon.  That doesn't mean for a second, though, that we're going to lose our marriage, or our love for life, or anything else like that.  In fact, it may even open up some possibilities to us that weren't open before, especially concerning where we live and what kind of work we do.  The simple fact of the matter is that we're probably going to have to move someplace where more work is available, which opens up an entire world of possibilities.

We're not going to waste time being angry at the world or our situation.  That would accomplish nothing, and it would make us miserable.  We're not going to lament the loss of something as unimportant as a house--we like where we live, but a house does not make a home, as we all know.  The home is what we make of it.  We love the house, but we will say good-bye to it when we need to do so.

Another source of frustration is that the plans that we've made basically have fallen through.  We all like to see our plans come true, as we tend to call that "success."  Plans that don't come through, we tend to call "failure."

But I know that this is not a failure on my part.  This is a symptom of an economic picture that's much bigger than me or anything about me.  All this means to us, really, is that we need to make other plans.  We simply have no choice--we must do this.  And in these new plans can be reflected hope for better things, or frustration and despair over our lack of hope.  So what will it be for us?  That really is up to us, isn't it?

I find that there are several important things to keep in mind:

I am not defined by my job.
I am not defined by my inability to find another job.
I have to keep trying, no matter how frustrating the process may be.
If I still have no success, I have to come up with other plans.
My new plans can be made with hope, or with despair.
Plans made with hope promise more.
Given the times and our situations, plans may not come through.
My relationship with my wife is not defined by our house.
Our relationship is not defined by our jobs or our geographic location.
The only limits to our next move are in our minds.

Hope and frustration tend to cancel each other out most of the time, but we do go through life situations in which they co-exist, and even work together to help us accomplish things we didn't think we could, to help us see things that weren't visible before they started working together.  So if you're feeling frustrated, just start thinking of new possibilities that the frustrating situation may be opening up, and you can be sure that once you start thinking that way, hope can't be far away!