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I enjoy writing love letters. Here’s a quickie:
Have I told you what a joy it is to be in close proximity of you? To be next to the kindling fire at the core of your burning being? To catch light from the brightness you so naturally cast off? To catch warmth from the heat that your passion generates? I am blessed by your stardom. Your true stardom.
So, that’s how I talk to people I care about.
One person recently asked me a question about it. I think he may have mistaken it for empty flattery. He called it “sweet talk.” As if “sweet talk” is bad, or without value or authenticity. He seemed suspicious of it.
I thought about that and asked, “Is bitter talk better? Is bitter talk really the tone you prefer to hear? Is it really the medium that supports your expansion and unfoldment?”
Why is rudeness so celebrated? Why is indifference and snarkiness considered cool? What is so cool about a rusted edge that cuts and slices? What is cool about that? Clearly, I’m not cool. I prefer sweetness. In my being. In my giving. In my receiving. I’ll give and take it any day.
I dare you to speak in sweet superlatives. I dare you to say out loud the kind, beautiful thought you have about the person in front of you — the person you live with, work for, supervise, commute beside, live next door to, Facebook-learn from…
Instead of thinking or noticing something wonderful about a person (which, by the way, cannot be heard or known by another), say it out loud. Can you imagine how a day could shift if positive observations were actually verbalized?
Where did we learn that? Where did we learn to silence our praise, and over-voice our complaints? Oh, we’re quite vocal about what we don’t like, what we don’t want, how the customer service sucked, blah blah negative-blah.
But how often do we stop and say, “You hit it on the spot! And I thank you!”
That thing that went right? I dare you to say it out loud, to the person who helped make it so.
Ingratitude dries up a fertile forest.