I watched the votes

Do you remember when there was a public debate over who should get "credit" for sinking the hellish Obamacare repeal bill? The theatrics of Senator McCain's vote earned him praise. Others pointed out that no, it wasn't Senator McCain, it was Senators Collins and Murkowski that really did the bill in.

For the tax cut bill, we don't have to debate: Senators Susan Collins, Lisa Murkowski, John McCain, and Jeff Flake all voted for this awful bill and deserve all the credit for its passing.

I watched the votes. Save Senator Bob Corker, it was a party-line vote. President Trump's clownish and offensive behavior gives Republicans the perfect way to "stand for something" while implementing the exact policies they have always desired.

The point here is not that I expected these Senators to surprise us all and vote against the bill and then support progressive policies. The point is that these votes are depressingly predictable. If we want a politics that actually represents us, we need to pay attention to the way power is actually exercised and drop our false hopes that Republicans will spontaneously drop support for policies that they've campaigned on for decades.

remembering who you are

Our immune system is pretty incredible. It detects something foreign, something not you, and then your body reacts accordingly. In a way, your immune system knows who you are, literally destroys the thing that isn't you, and then repairs the cracks.

Last week, I showed where one of my cracks was by sharing a failure. I still don't feel good about failing, but I was heartened by the response of my friends and family. They found the thing that wasn't me — the shame of not succeeding — and attacked it. They helped me remember who I am.

Of course, the experience of failure is part of you. We make mistakes and there are consequences to that. But the demons that come along for the ride with the failure — the embarrassment, the lowered self-esteem, the fear of trying again, etc. — are not you. They're foreign invaders.

That's where your community (your immune system) comes in. We're not alone; we exist together in an integrated way. Show me where your cracks are and I'll show up to remind you who you are.

do you like it?

When someone asks if you like some piece of art, it's reasonable to answer in a binary fashion: Yes, I like it; No, I don't like it.

There's good reason, however, to avoid this.

Here's two ways I like to answer that question instead of saying that I don't like something.

It's not for me.

This recognizes that while you don't connect with it, you can see that others can (and do) connect with it, and that's great. "It's not for me" admits the pervasive subjectivity of art while staying true to your preferences.

I like what they tried to do.

This communicates that while you don't think the artist(s) achieved their vision, you find their vision laudable, and appreciate that they tried. This might even be paired with a conclusion that you actually like it. I know that there are creations that I love just because of what a creator tried to do with the medium, whether it was a piece of music, a TV show, or a video game.

Making stuff is hard. There's no need to fall into the binary of an up or down vote. Respect the effort of creation by making an effort in your opinion of it. The two above are some ways of doing that, but make it your own.

go through the motions

People will often tell you, "Don't just go through the motions."

They're wrong. (Sometimes.) There are some things where going through the motions can keep a ritual alive.

For example, there are days where I really don't want to sit down and meditate in the morning. I lie to myself and think, "I'll find some time to sit during the day." I won't.

However, if I negotiate myself to go through motions (take a few deep breaths, sit in an upright posture, and pay attention to my mind for just one minute) I'm better for it. Tomorrow, I'll keep the streak alive and maybe this time give myself the full session that I know that I need every morning.

This can apply to other things, too.

You might tell yourself that you can't really dive into this hairy project that you've been avoiding because you need an uninterrupted hour, a quiet morning, or a full day to really hack away at it. You're wrong. Go through the motions. Make a little progress; reduce a little bit of friction; store up a little momentum for the time where you can make a big push.

Today, what things can benefit from you going through the motions?

watch the votes

A month ago, Senator Jeff Flake took the floor and said, "Mr. President, I rise today to say 'enough'." His impassioned speech won him much praise. One Democratic Representative tweeted, "Dear Senator @JeffFlake: Welcome to the #Resistance."

That same day, Jeff Flake voted to continue to condone forced arbitrations by preventing a new rule from the consumer bureau from rolling out which would have allowed for class actions to put pressure on misbehaving companies.

Trump degrades every institution that he comes into contact with: our electoral process, the executive, the legislature, our judicial system, and so on. Dignity in these places is important, but it is never enough. One of the scariest parts of the current political moment is that it makes dignified politics a smoke screen for policies that steer us in the wrong direction. Trump's depressing absurdity normalizes already awful politics.

To wit, a politics of decency with no substance is not good politics. So when we see Republican actors gather enough decency to object to certain parts of the wrecking ball that is President Trump, we can't forget to watch the votes. When Republicans enter the floors of Congress to cast their votes for the tax bill, watch the votes. They say more than words ever will.

intensity is a good thing

Last night my family played a game called The Resistance: Avalon. If you've ever played Mafia, it is kind of like that.

When my family plays, it can be an exhausting adventure to finish the game. We're an intense group of people and even those among us who fashion themselves laid back can really get into the game. People get heated in a harmless way and sometimes we really need that in our lives. Though after one or two rounds of this game I'm spent and need a break, it's fun to feel the energy in the room during and after the game.

There are times when intensity needs to be dialed back a bit. However, intensity is a good thing. It's what drives passionate and committed people and often what makes things happen.

Growing up and even now, I recognize a weird pressure for us to be engaged but not intense. We have to walk this tight-rope and not scare people off during our discussions. Sometimes, though, intensity is what you need. Many times, it's what I need to push through to a breakthrough, so I'm going to try to embrace my own intensity more often.

master, steal, forget

I'm in the early stages of my life and my career. Though there is some anxiety about what my next steps might look like, it is, overall, an incredible opportunity to be intentional about how I want to build my life.

One way that I've been thinking about just how to build things is asking three questions:

1) What do I want to master myself?
2) What can I steal from other people?
3) What can I forget altogether?

I should master the instruments that are essential to my personal and professional life. I might put things like meditation, staying present with people when I'm around them, writing, and critical reading in this category. These are the kinds of things that reward deep work, play, and presence.

Anything that doesn't benefit from my own careful attention, I should steal. Just find a trusted expert and run with the knowledge. They've done the work and I should benefit from their craft.

If it's not something I should master or steal, I should just forget about it.

Learning to differentiate between these three categories can save you a lot of time and make you better. Maybe you're trying to master something you should forget altogether. Maybe you thought you could steal something that you really need to master. And so on. The point is that the three questions can help you redirect your energy to where it needs to be.

flexing a new muscle

Years ago, I started writing letters to people. I would solicit people through Facebook. Most of the time, it would be people close to me but I often people I hadn't talked to in a long time would ask for a letter. I bought a great fountain pen and luxurious paper and made a habit of writing letters.

Later, I started to write my family members letters on their birthdays. I generally have tried to use those letters to reflect on what I admire about the person who has just made another revolution around the sun. Even though I have deep relationships with my family members, my muscle of direct appreciation was still weak. The letters helped me learn how to flex it in a generous way.

In the last few years, my family has solidified a new tradition. We ask whoever's birthday it is to share one word that summarizes their last year and a piece of advice they would pass along. It's a great way to come together and reflect on how far that person has come and support their next steps at the same time.

When Asha moved to San Francisco, she got to become part of this tradition. The first time, she was understandably a little nervous about it, and my brother came up with an idea to stall for time, boost her confidence, and shower her with love all once: we would go around the table and share a memory we have with the person that year. Now, the sharing of memories is a part of the birthday tradition.

The birthday letters and the birthday tradition are enriching experiences for many reasons. However, I've been dwelling on the value of not just telling someone that you love or care for them, but what you find so worth loving and caring about. During these holidays of community find some time to express that to the important people in your life. If you have to make up a tradition or bring back an old form of communication, do it. I promise, it will reward you over and over.

Nana's red tin

When my grandmother would come to visit, she would often have two things in tow. Nana ran a small bookstore in West Virginia, and made a habit of bringing books for each of her grandchildren. My grandmother was a much better version of Amazon's "You might also like..." feature and she's the reason I spent many hours curled up with a good book during my childhood.

Besides the books, Nana might have a red tin. The red tin was circular, much wider than tall and had white writing on the outside. The red paint was worn and scratched, an unpainted surface peaking through at points. Like a good wine, it got better with age. I couldn't tell you one word of that writing because I would always be so excited to see what was inside. It might be brownies, lemon bars, or what mom tells me were "go to school" cookies (soft chocolate cookies with icing on top). It didn't matter what was inside. We just know it was going to be a real treat, because what was inside was quality.

Today is Black Friday, and millions of people will buy stuff churned out by our consumptive society that will almost certainly be temporary and soon disposed. Nana's red tin was a permanent, beloved fixture in our lives. Through the care that went into what was inside, it became a talisman for the family. These days, I think we need to take extra effort to build through ritual talismans like Nana's red tin and then shepherd them through our lives.

grateful living

I already shared this video, but some things are too good to share just once. And on a day with a theme of gratitude, I'll be reflecting on these words:

There’s something we know about everyone we meet in the world. And that is that all of us want to be happy.

By experiencing, by becoming aware, that every moment is a given moment, as we say. It’s a gift.

You haven’t earned it. You haven’t brought it about in any way.

You have no way of assuring that there will be another moment given to you.

Grateful living — that’s the most valuable thing that can ever be given to us.

We have to stop. We have to get quiet. And when you stop, then the next thing is to look.

You look. You open your eyes. You open your ears. You open your nose. You open all your senses for this wonderful richness that is given to us.

Whatever life offers to you in that present moment.

If you take this opportunity, go with it.

Stop.

Look.

Go.

That’s all.