Hard for You to Say You're Sorry? You're Not Alone

Generally speaking, I am an apologizer.

When involved in some skirmish, I'm usually the one to break the ice and either say I'm sorry or jump start a conversation that allows us each to lay out out stuff and resolve things by either mutually acknowledging blame or agreeing to disagree.

That doesn't make me noble, and don't get it twisted. I'm also not a pushover. It means that, like most people, I hate conflict. Even with people I just don't like, lingering disagreements bother me. If I have to dislike you, then I will, but for the most part, it's not a natural state-of-being for me.

But what amazes me (and occasionally pisses me off) is the lengths to which people go to while avoiding an apology. Even when they're DEAD. WRONG.

Here are the three main types of "apology" I find particularly annoying:

The FAKE APOLOGY: You know this person, the one who kinda does a smart-ass kinda thing while telling you they're sorry. It's not "I'm sorry I did that," it's "I'm sorry you feel that way." I had a girlfriend who used to do that so often that we almost had new arguments based on that raggedy mess she gave me.

The DELAYED APOLOGY: This person tries to give the impression that they're thinking about your feelings when really? They don't care. With them, you pour out your feelings and how you were offended by what they've done, and they give you....nothing.

You (after bearing your soul): I just think that what you did was wrong.

Them: I understand what you're saying. That's a lot to take in, though. Let me think about what you've said, and I'll get back to you.

Seasons change, children grow old...Still nothing. You get no resolution and they have moved on to bigger, better offenses.

The PIGGYBACK Apology: This apology is not so much an apology as a deflection. It goes like this:

You: You know you were wrong!

Them: Well, I didn't say anything when you (insert past imagined offense for which they sought no resolution and didn't care about at the time)

You: What does that have to do with now?

Them: I didn't make a big deal out of it, so you need to just get over it.

Real talk: refusing to apologize in the face of your obvious wrong is immature, prideful and disrespectful to the person for whom you claim to care. What's the worst that could happen if you say you're sorry? You'll be vulnerable? Weak? Well then, that's where you are facing trust issues. If you can't show that side to someone, is that person really someone you want/need in your life? Heavy stuff, I know.

According to Marsha Wagner, longtime Ombuds Officer at Columbia University, these elements make up the anatomy of a EFFECTIVE apology. Look for them in the apologies you receive and are given:

Not all elements apply to all situations. Some of the most common considerations

include the following:

1. A common understanding of the exact substance and nature of the offense, or

perceived offense. (Example: “Yesterday on the telephone, I said…”)

2. Recognition of responsibility or accountability on the part of the one who offended.

(Example: “I could have chosen other words.” “I spoke without thinking.”)

3. Acknowledgement of the pain or embarrassment that the offended party experienced.

(Example: “It’s understandable that was upsetting to you.” “If someone had said that

to me, I would not have liked it, either.” But not, “I’m sorry you’re so easily hurt.”)

4. A judgment about the offense. (Example: “I was insensitive.” “What I did was

wrong.”)

5. A statement of regret. (Example: “I’m sorry I used those words.”)

6. An indication of future intentions. (Example: “In the future, I will try to think about

the impact of my words before speaking.” “I hope we can have a relationship of

mutual respect.”)

Wagner adds that sometimes it is helpful to include an explanation of why the perceived offender acted in this way, but says that it’s important not to reiterate the offense, give a flippant excuse or a defensive justification. (Example: “What I did was a poor attempt at humor.” But not,

“When I’m mad, I can say anything but I don’t really mean it.”)

There are also times when an apology isn't enough; nothing is enough. Usually the longer things fester, the worse the offense seems. I have exes that have never apologized to me for past wrongs, and while I've let things go (for the most part), I will never forget that when they had a chance to make things right, they didn't.

I say all this to say: apologize. At the end of the day, I guess the reason I tend to apologize is because it makes ME feel better, keeps my slate clean, so to speak. I don't feel compelled to intentionally hurt others, and reconciling wrongs is my way of living my life honestly. Even those things that you feel you never forgive or never make right - make the effort to resolve them.

I know. Right about now, you're probably saying, "Well, no one worries about apologizing to me when they've hurt ME." That's petty. Treat people how you want to be treated. Again, keep a clean slate.

Life is too short to do otherwise.

Dreaming Big

"Don't let anyone keep you from achieving your goals."

Surprised, I looked up at my father, who'd spoken while quietly watching me use his home office computer to surf the web. It was early July and I was in Sacramento for a week-long visit. During his afternoon naps. however, I hopped online in search for a job to replace the one I lost last month to lay-offs.

I hadn't even heard heard him moving around.

"Huh?" I asked, smiling briefly before looking back at the screen.

He repeated the comment, paused, then added: "Do whatever it is that you really want to do."

"Yeah," I said, tapping the keys. "I know."

Everyone's heard the wistful platitudes. Follow your passion, be true to yourself, love what we do with your life...blah, blah, blah. But I felt I'd followed my bliss. My co-workers drove me crazy sometimes, but I LOVED the people I got to meet and the stories I got to tell.

I didn't get to say good bye to nearly enough of those great people before I left.

So here I was, without a job for the first time in 20 years. And here was my dad, speaking the simple truth of God's direction.

God's grace is infinite.

My upcoming DREAM BIG bash is a part of that truth, in that it represents the first step toward living out my potential to positively impact the lives of others. A real stepping out on faith. And the support I receive through that even will motivate me surely more than even I realize right now.

But only tonight have I realized that a lack of support for anything I do within God's will won't be enough to ever again stop me from reaching for my dreams.

God's hand is on my life right now in a way that I've never felt before. That doesn't mean that my faith is perfect, or that I'll will never stumble. That's never been what faith has ever been about.

What it means is that I couldn't turn back now, even if I wanted to. Forward is the only direction that will lead to peace and to my destiny.

I don't remember much of the rest of that conversation with my dad; I think I mentioned something about how to program music into the iPod nano he bought himself for Christmas and that he fussed briefly about needing to find a charger cable for some other gadget he was fooling around with that afternoon.

But what I will always remember is that comment. And the ultimate source of its wisdom.

Thanks, Dad.

Thanks, God.

Bin Laden's Dead - O Happy Day?

With increasing regularity, I find myself gleaning my breaking news from Twitter.

And Sunday was no exception. As is my habit, I got into my car after church and checked my phone for messages. I usually try not to pull up Twitter or Facebook at those times, because I'll end up sitting in my car laughing or pissed off about things that I read far longer than I should, and hey, that's time you don't get back.

But anyway, I broke my rule and popped up Twitter. And there it was.

Osama Bin Laden was dead.

"What???" I said aloud. "Daaamn." (Yes, I did mention just leaving church, but Christians aren't perfect any more than anyone else. But that's another topic for another blog post.)

I drove home with the radio on NPR, just trying to pick up tidbits of info. By the time I pulled into my garage, I was hearing news of the celebration gathering outside the White House and speculation over the details of Bin Laden's death.

At the time, I just couldn't believe what I was feeling - sadness, anger and dread. Sadness because people were celebrating the death of a person and anger that I felt that way - the bastard did plan the death of nearly 3,000 innocent men, women and children. Once you're grown, a decade isn't a lot of time and memories of watching the plane hit that tower are still fresh in my mind today.

I also dread the retaliation that I suspect is waiting for U.S. as a whole and Obama as an individual.

And that started the roller coaster ride.

Now, let me take a tick to share with you a little something - I hate roller coasters. They're stupid and dangerous - like football - and they don't leave you with too much to show for the ride, unless you have a weak bladder or stomach. I respect other's rights to ride them, but I take a pass at every opportunity. So the past 48 hours have sucked for me as I straddled the fence between being glad that Bin Laden is gone and deeply mourning the celebrating that just seems like another symptom of a loss of value and respect for life.

Then there are the posts from both sides of the issue (celebration/mourning) that say that Christians shouldn't celebrate death and that the Bible says that the crowd celebrated David's killing of Goliath.

Up. Down. Around. Under. Through the tunnel. I had eggs this morning and until about 20 minutes ago, I was actually feeling physically nauseated about the discourse.

Until I saw this post from another Facebook friend.

"Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that."

- Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Before reading this, I'd pretty much reached my saturation limit on King long ago. I begin dreading Black History Month weeks before Feb. 1 - usually about the time McDonald's cranks up its 365Black campaign and Budweiser pulls out its clip art of King to put in Ebony and Jet magazine so that blacks think they care. Again, another post for another time.

But like every true statement - spoken, written or otherwise - these words are ARE what they ARE. You can justify celebration of Bin Laden's death by saying he deserved it, and can even talk about biblical examples of similar reaction to the death of villains. But killing. Isn't. Right. Period. I won't become right just because popular opinion says it is.

Like india.arie says "You know the truth by the way it feels."

Thank goodness, this ride is over. I was more than ready to get off.

Finally All Grown Up

When I was young, then a teenager and then in college, I thought being a grown-up would mean paying rent, driving, paying the utilities bill.

I figured I might someday have a house, have a husband and kids and read Essence magazine and like it, because those are the things my mother did. I'd buy groceries all the time, mow the grass and definitely have pets.

I never imagined that being a grown-up could mean realizing that, at this point in my life, there are doors of opportunity and experience that health, time and circumstance have forever closed to me.

And as it turns out, being grown-up also means facing the eventual certainty of death.

Over the past 18 months, I've had two surgeries, a biopsy, and now prepare to have a third surgery over the next few weeks that most likely won't kill me, but could also change my life forever.

All this for a person who at best, stumped her toe or caught a cold. I believed I would always be able to do anything I wanted when I got around to it. Wanna lose weight? Just get up and exercise. Wanna have kids? Just settle down with the right man and do it? Wanna travel around the world? Just save up and do it.

Nothing will ever be that simple for me again.

I'm 41 now, not 14, and while I was kinda right about the grown stuff - I do drive, own a house, pay utilities and have pets - I wasn't prepared to be alone and trying to figure out how to make sure I'll be okay.

After being told by my doctor about the need for the procedure that it hit me - I've wasted time.

I've wasted time waiting for someone I love to become worthy of that love. I've wasted time waiting for a world to improve that has no real incentive or desire to do so. I've wasted time worrying about the opinions of people who could care less about what I think. I've wasted time waiting for friends to remember to give as much as they take. I've wasted time believing that I was the only person, who really cared, tried, wanted, dreamed or suffered.

I'm done wasting time. Done believing that, apart from God, the calavry is coming around the bend. There is such joy in this world, and in my life that I've missed out on experiencing while I was thinking small and seeing the little picture.

That ends now. And just thinking about the possibilities of living life that way makes me so happy.

Mary Kay Ash once said:

"Some people drift through their entire life. They do it one day at a time, one week at a time, one month at a time. It happens so gradually they are unaware of how their lives are slipping away until it's too late."

In refusing to be one of those people, I'm taking true responsibility for the life God's given me.

Guess I am finally grown up after all.

Fake Growth

The fodder for today's entry evolved from the music of Coffe'y Anderson.

In pop culture terms, his public persona and acoustic offerings are rife with contradictions. He's black, but more into country than hip-hop. He's talented, but not conceited. Interested in success, but seemingly not in abandoning the Christian beliefs in which many of his songs appear to be rooted.

I posted some of his videos on Facebook (my guilty pleasure), told the masses how great he was, and waited. Then I waited some more.

Few responses.

Understand me, please. This is not about a belief that if I like something, everyone else should like it too. I don't think or even want that. But I believe that people shy away from that which doesn't fit within their own narrow parameters of what they already know.

The people who chose not to listen, what did they gain? Nothing more than they already have. But if they'd listened, they may have thought a new thought, heard a new sound, or been led in a direction that enhanced their lives forever.

It's not just about the music, it's about the choice to stay tightly closed instead of open to new experiences.

Another example: I am a Christian. Have been all my life. I'm also a cradle Catholic, and in the case of a lot of my friends, the only Catholic they've ever met. And while we're all cool, and I've attended their churches often for service, no one takes me up on my offers to worship in my church home. Some of these same friends will only look for inspiration in music that sounds like what they always listen to, ministers who look and sound like the ones they always hear and only from church members who look like them.

Other friends are no different. Some make jokes about coming to my house, which is in a part of town that they see on the news connected with crime. Well, my street isn't like that, the police themselves have told me as much. But still, many of those friends seem unwilling to visit.

We all talk the talk of the evils of discrimination. But when given a chance to grow with as little effort as it takes to click on a video link for an artist we've never heard of, we take a pass. We all talk about how important it is to help our fellow man, and oh my goodness, how my friends have bemoaned the need for universal health care. But when the time comes to give for a cause or give their time at church or with a non-profit, we make excuses.

We all speak of the need to be own and willing to grow, but in reality, that seems to mean that we only want to grow within our own comfort zone.

Author Anais Nin spoke eloquently of how repeated rejection of growth is impossible:

...and the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful that the risk it took to blossom.

Make it easy on yourself. Grow.

...and so it begins

First lesson of enthusiasm: Be willing to get excited about something you've never done before.

First let me say up front that blogs are something I've never understood.

The basic concept seems to involve pouring your thoughts into a prescribed bit of internet space and then expecting people to take the time to read and respond, regularly, to this effort.

To think that, unlike an established columnist, Joe Goober from Hobolkan has an opinion that will set the world on fire seems at best, unlikely and at worst, really narcissistic on Joe G's part.

I don't want to be a goober.

Why then, am I writing this blog, you may ask? Simply to try something I've never tried before and to discover the appeal of the blogging world. It may suck, but if I say that I don't dig blogging (as I've done for several years), then I should at least know what I'm talking about.

I'm thinking about several topics for future postings, and hope to post daily. Not bad for a skeptic, huh? Be forewarned: Things may at times seem really random. But hang in there, I'm learning.

Until next time,

Sophiiblu