Wednesday, June 4, 2014

Manners Make Us Memorable

          Manners make us memorable, either as courteous, compassionate folks, or as people who practice acceptable social customs out of obligation and respect for traditions, or even as hypocrites who use politeness to disguise disdain. Here, in poetry, are some thoughts about manners:

Definitely!
by Susan L. Lipson

They agreed that it was fabulous to reconnect after so long,
that they needed to get together--DEFINITELY!
And that old sentiments renewed should be called "resentiment."
They laughed together, then exchanged phone numbers, emails, smiles, and hugs.
She texted her long-lost friend the next day, to say how thrilled she felt to be back in touch.
The text evoked a "ditto" and a smiley face in reply. 
And that reply evoked an invitation to get together,
which remained unanswered for two days, 
before being re-sent, along with the words, "You probably didn't get my text, so…".
A day later she re-sent the text again, and then re-sent a new one,
and finally, "resentiment" became RESENTMENT.
And "definitely" became a lie.



You’re Welcome 
by Susan L. Lipson

You’re welcome—to take your place
below her,
once you’ve finished gushing,
“Thank you so much for your help--thank you!”
and she replies nonchalantly,
“You’re welcome,”
but never, “Thank YOU—
Thanks for asking me.”
No, that would mean
you’re welcome
to bother her again,
and clearly you’re not.
To thank someone for effusive thanks
creates balance,
equates giving and receiving,
and negates power of one over another.
“You’re welcome,” blithely uttered,
implies a privilege granted,
a favor tallied,
and only rarely a follow-up offer
to “feel free to ask again, anytime.”

Sympathy Cards 

She called to ask whether we received her sympathy card,
and whether we knew that she had made a donation in memory
of our dearly departed.
She didn’t ask how we are coping with the loss.
She didn’t even mention my mom-in-law's name,
or any memory of times spent with her.
She was just wondering—“no pressure, of course!”—
since she’d never received a thank-you card.
“But that really doesn’t matter, of course,” she assured me,
“since I’m sure you’ve been so busy since….”
And then she assured me yet again: “You know, dear, that you have
my sincere sympathy, in any case—
card or no card.”

Whose card did she mean?

And why must I thank her for mere sympathy,
which is like a carefully wrapped package of nothing,
without the true gift of Empathy rattling within.

Sympathy is what you SHOW to others; Empathy is what you FEEL for them.
Sympathy is external; Empathy is internal.
Sympathy is a polite action; Empathy is a compassionate one.
Sympathy is expected in polite society; but Empathy is a welcome, cherished surprise.
Sympathy can be expressed by greeting cards; Empathy is only expressed in sincere words and/or hugs.
Sympathy is announced; empathy is understood.
Sympathy shows caring; Empathy creates sharing.
Sympathy is to shine another’s beaten-up shoes; Empathy is to wear those shoes.

Loss is cluttered by the sympathetic shoe-shiners,
But simplified by those who share our burdens,
Leaving us a smaller fraction of grief to bear alone.

Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Spring Has Sprung!

Gardening
by Susan L. Lipson

To help them flower and spread,
I add to the seeds of my ideas
inspirational flow,
figurative fertilizer for nurturing full color,      
and empowering light after germination.

And then I weed,
ripping out random growths
that strangle their laconic beauty,
detract from their tones,
cover their distinctive petals and leaves,
and clutter their well-aligned lines
with verbose foliage.

I try to resist clipping a bloom
or forming a bouquet to share
until each flower's growth has peaked,
to avoid publishing prematurely harvested blooms,
which will wilt in the shadows of disappointment.

In verbal vases
I present the bounty,
hoping that you see Beauty and Truth.

Monday, May 5, 2014

Memorable Miscommunication!


          I shared my daughter's latest YouTube music video (she's a singer known on YouTube, as well as an actress on TV and in films) with my 86-year-old father via email, and when I called him to hear what he thought of it, his questions about the song and her collaborator hilariously exemplify the generation gap in the music world. First, watch, and then I'll tell you his response….

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ioN8ClDI1KE&list=UUcyjBPgV4o-xkrozdwRLZYQ




          "So, Dad, what did you think of Lainey's newest music video?" I asked.

          "I don't know…. I didn't like that guy in the video. I don't why she needed him standing there. He was distracting, and he wasn't even singing along with her--I watched his lips!  He didn't even know the words! And he wasn't even playing the background music with her, so what was his purpose?"

           Trying not to laugh, I replied, "Dad, he was beat-boxing, not singing."

           Before I could explain what beat-boxing is, he asked, "What do you mean he wasn't singing? I saw him moving his lips, but he didn't get the words right."

          "No, Dad, he was making the beat sounds in the background with his mouth. All those drum sounds you heard were coming from him. That's what made the song so cool."

           "What do you mean?"

           "Are you listening? There wasn't any instrumental music in the video, only percussion sounds that he was making with his mouth while Lainey was singing a cappella."

          "Well, I don't know that song, I only know that I didn't like this one because of that guy making weird expressions and keeping me from hearing the music."

          Sighing, I conclude, "Okay, Dad, maybe you'll like her next one better."

          Thinking about that conversation now reminds me of a "text fail"--the kind I'd save on my phone just to laugh over it later. That's why I wrote this post, to save this "phone fail."