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Hi everybody. Welcome to the podcast today. When I was a little girl, I used to wake up frequently in the night feeling really afraid of various things, different dangers in the world that felt, felt a lot bigger than me. So in school, I remember ha being taught about what to do if your house catches on fire. And I, I remember the videos and the different things they taught us to do. You're supposed to [00:01:00] put your hand on a door to see if it's hot before you go through the door. That type of thing. But these were really vivid videos and teachings and it, it, it kind of traumatized me. And I remember waking up in the middle of the night as a little girl needing to go use the bathroom and checking all the doors before I would open them to see if they were hot and just being really afraid about fires in my house at night.

I also had a sibling that was really fascinated with snakes and they would show me the encyclopedia and, and show me all of the poisonous snakes and tell me about the venom of each one and how much time you had to live when each one bit you and what you had to do if they bit you. And I remember getting really terrified of snakes. And I remember in the middle of the night sometimes waking up and feeling sure that there were snakes under my bed, and needing to get up and go and use the bathroom, but not feeling like I could step off my bed because then they would see my feet and they would bite me.

Um, I also remember in school it really being emphasized that we shouldn't talk to strangers and having, there was kind of a statewide campaign, I think because of some children that had been kidnapped, there was a statewide campaign in schools to teach children to be wary of strangers and not talk to strangers, and don't take candy from strangers, and don't take rides from strangers. And I, I got this feeling that all the strangers in the world were out to get me. And so I would wake up in the, in the middle of the night and I would feel afraid that maybe there was somebody outside of my window trying to open my screen and get into my room and I would hear different sounds, and I would think that I heard someone trying to get in.

Anyway, the fears that I felt in the middle of the night would change from time to time, but there was a re recurring theme in all of these fears. And it was that in all of these scenarios, I felt very small. I was conscious of my smallness, my helplessness. I think that these fears ended up coming up for me most at night because this was the moment when my family was asleep, and so they were not responsive. So it was the time when I felt the most alone and the most defenseless. And I think my brain was trying to answer that question, how am I going to fare without my family in the future when it's just up to me to face this big, dangerous world? So it's this recurring theme of, of realizing how small I am and how big the world is, and how ill-equipped I am to face all the dangers in the world. I did finally get to the point where I didn't wake up terrified regularly anymore in the middle of the night, but I didn't stop sensing that I was really small and weak.

As an adult, it was really common for me to wake up in the morning feeling terribly anxious and hyper aware of the demands that were against me in my day and feeling really small in comparison to what was required of me. I think part of me actually felt that there was something smart or righteous about worrying about threats. I felt like tracking and identifying where the threats were in my life was a good thing because then I could be prepared for them. But with this habit that I had of worrying and always tracking the threats, my mind was hyper aware of threat, and I was consumed with all of the possible threats around me. And it was really just a repetition of how it felt as a little girl to wake up small and terrified. Except that now I was an adult and I felt small and terrified next to all of the threats and demands in the world that I was facing. I, I felt it was all too much for me.

If I were gonna compare myself during this time to an animal, I would say that I was like a marmot or one of those little birds that seem to never be able to relax and enjoy the moment. They might be eating something, but while they're eating, they're always looking around trying to see what threat might be coming from some unexpected corner of their eye. And they, they can't relax because they're, they're conscious of their smallness. They're conscious that they're almost at the bottom of the food chain, and so they're conscious of their lack of defense and their inability to, to win a fight with challengers. If you contrast that to an elephant on the other hand, I don't know if you've ever watched elephants, but they're, they're so relaxed and happy, and playful and loving, and they seem to just enjoy life. They're not nervous about attackers 'cause they're such a big animal. There's not very many predators. And they're, they're herbivores and so they don't have a lot of this built in aggression that carnivores have. So they just seem to be happy animals. But I was not like an elephant. I was more like a marmit or a little bird.

But I did find one solution that helped me to get a handle on this habit, this mental habit I had of waking up anxious and feeling overwhelmed by all the demands that I could see and that I could imagine in the day ahead of me, all of the needs of the people around me, all of the things I was up against. What I found was to apply a principle that I learned in the game of Catan. Now I am really good at the game of Catan. My family doesn't always like to play with me because I almost always win. Either me or one other family member, one of the two of us usually wins this game.

Catan is a game that is a mixture of strategy and chance. And for those of you not familiar with the game, it's a board game. It's an island. You get certain pieces of the island, certain pieces of land and certain resources to develop that land, and then you get points and you win depending on how you develop that land. Now I have certain family members who almost always lose this game. And the reason why they lose is because before they start, they have a really defined plan in their head of the particular piece of land that they want and the the certain resources that they want. But because it's a game that is a mixture of strategy and chance, they don't always get what it is that they wanted. Some, sometimes someone takes it first, or someone interferes with their plans, builds in the part that they wanted to build in, or the dice might not give them the resources that they want, and so their plan gets disrupted. And so they end up feeling really frustrated and complaining a lot that their, that their plan was blocked and feeling kind of like a victim of the game. But I, on the other hand, I almost always win because I am, I'm really adaptable in this game. So instead of having a preformed plan where I already know exactly how I'm going to go about it, I form my plan on the fly and I according to what becomes available and possible in the game. So if someone takes my preferred spot, I take the next best spot. If the dice don't gimme the exact resources that I wanted I build something with the resources that I have, even if it's not what I had thought of building before. Right? I do the best that I can with what I have instead of wishing that I had something different. And so this almost always results in me accumulating points before everybody else and winning the game.

So I've learned a good way to deal with my morning anxiety by applying some of these principles from Catan. So when I wake up in the morning facing certain things that, and I feel overwhelmed, instead of trying to solve all the problems and all of the demands that I can see, and that I can imagine that are before me, I have started this habit of looking at my cards, quote unquote, or the resources that I have. And asking myself what's the best that I can do with these resources that I've got today. So I think of my day, kind of like a game of Catan, and I am asking myself what's the best I can do with this hand? So sometimes on certain days I find I have really few resources. For example, you know, because I live in Brazil, people like to come and visit me. And so there was once when I had a a, a house full of visitors, so I had a lot of demands because I had all of these visitors here. But I was also sick. I had gotten sick, and so I didn't have a lot of resources to meet these demands. So looking at my cards for the day, I realized that the best that I could do with those cards was, you know, I really wanted to make sure I wasn't rude or grumpy to anybody during the day. That was one goal that I had. And I also wanted to take care of my body and not overdo it, not try and do too much, trying to take [00:10:00] care of other people and make myself sicker. There are other days where my resources feel great. You know, I have a lot of energy and I feel really on top of things, and I'm able to spend three hours on this writing project and two hours practicing the piano and clean my house and whatever. But I make my goals according to the resources that I have in that day to meet the demands that are against me, but with, with the best that I can do with what I've got. So it's a, it's a way to rewire my perspective. So instead of feeling really beset by this consciousness that I'm, I'm way too small for these demands instead, I'm thinking about, well, these are the demands. These are my resources. What's my best play here? I'm just doing the best I can with the cards that I have. And I like to look back at the end of the day and ask myself, did I play my cards the best that I could? So in the example of that day when I had a bunch of visitors and I was sick, I was able to look back at the end of the day and say, Hey, yeah, I, I succeeded in not being rude and grumpy to anybody, and I also succeeded in taking care of myself. And then I can congratulate myself. I can feel a sense of accomplishment even though there were a lot of things that didn't get done. And I, you know, from the outside it might not look like I was very productive. There might be a lot of problems that still needed to be solved, but I could still feel that sense of having won that day because I played my cards the best that I could.

Sometimes I also like to do what I call a yay me paragraph, where I go through and I say, yay me, I was able to get through the day without being grumpy at anybody. Yay me I was able to take care of myself so that I wouldn't get more sick. And I detail the, the, the goals that I accomplished that were according to my hand or according to the cards that I had in my hand. Sometimes I look back and I find that I didn't do the best that I could in that day. Right? And I think about what would've been a better play. And that's, this is how I've learned, you know, looking over in hindsight, to not spend all my resources in one area or in one day, and have none left over for the next day, you know, to spend my energy wisely on things that are really important to me instead of things that are less important to me.

Now I've mentioned before that I started a bachelor's degree, but then I it didn't finish it because life got in the way. I was working. I had little kids. But when I was in my late thirties, I decided to go back to school and finish my bachelor's degree. And I was really nervous about going back to school because I had been outta school for so long and I didn't know if I could do it again. I didn't know if my brain was outta shape. But I found actually that I really thrived in this environment. And I remembered why it is that I love school so much. Part of why I really loved it was that in school the demands are so well defined, right? You have [00:13:00] this, you have homework, you have tests, you have projects, and they all have specific deadlines, and it's easy to tell if you're on track or if you're succeeding or not. And the difference between that school environment and real life is that real life, in contrast, is a lot more vague. It's not that well defined. It's a lot more complicated. And the parameters, the parameters and the goals in real life are often changing. Sometimes you have competing concerns and it's hard to tell what's most important, right? And it's hard to tell how to succeed. It's not, it's not so clear how to succeed. And often the, the things that we deal with in real life are never finished, right? They're not discreet and finite. They, you know, like relationships for example. And sometimes the tasks that we're up against, you know, we just don't even know where to start. So this technique that I learned over time to be able to look at my day and sort of play Catan in my day, helps me to take the chaos and overwhelm out of the present moment that's often there, you know, in real life because it's so complicated and vague and you know, it's hard to tell how to succeed. But it makes it into a game with defined limits. And why is it that we like games? Well, it's because in games there are well-defined rules and parameters, and it's easy to tell if we're succeeding or if we're failing. And the games that we like are usually the games that are not way beyond our resources. They're enough. They're challenging, right? They, they, they make us engage our, our capacities. They make us concentrate, but our chances of success are high if we can really focus. So using this technique of thinking in terms of Catan, when I look at my day, helps me, you know, if I'm feeling anxious or overwhelmed, it's usually because I'm trying to swallow a whole whale at once or fix problems that are actually big enough to swallow me whole. But thinking of my hand of cards and thinking of, of my day in this way, of what's the best play that I can make here, can give me this sense of feeling capable and satisfied and challenged, but not overwhelmed and anxious. Because I'm looking at my hand and I'm trying to decide what's the best that I can do with this hand today.

So there's just a little thought to help you when you wake up feeling like the world is too much for you and you're too small. Go ahead and bring it down to your size. Just look at your hand and decide what's the best that you can do with what you've got today. And then at the end of the day, go ahead and congratulate yourself if you were able to play your hand the best you can. You could give yourself a yay me paragraph. Or if you didn't play your hand the best you could, analyze how you could have played it better, and that will help you to keep, to keep things within this realm of what is actually the best that you can do in this situation, rather than feeling overwhelmed with all of the things that are bigger than you are. So that's my suggestion for today.

Now we are going to move on to the kindness narrative. Stay tuned 'cause it helps you with your gratitude practice. It's quick and painless. Also, thank you to all of the listeners who have shared. Your own kindness narrative, and if you haven't shared yours yet, please consider doing it because it helps you tremendously and it helps all of us too. So it's a win-win situation. Thanks so much for listening today. Bye-bye.
This is a kindness narrative that was shared with me by a listener, by email.
I had some experiences with kindness while living in Albania, serving as a volunteer. In the early nineties, it was such a remote place and I was so disconnected from the world and my family, friends, even my own mother tongue and culture. Back in those days, Durres Albania was so remote that my communication with family in the US was by letter and typically took about three months to cycle back. On occasion, the snail mail cycle was as long as six months. The phone never was reliable, especially for international calls, and I don't know how to describe just how foreign a place Durres was. I definitely was a foreigner there. I was so far from home that I didn't even know that the 1994 Baseball World Series was canceled.

I couldn't speak much more than a basic introduction, and there was no way I could possibly ask for directions from someone. I hadn't yet learned the common system for addresses in the city, and I didn't know how to navigate. One night I wandered, lost for a couple of hours, what should have been an eight to 10 minute walk home, just wandered in circles even further away from home. Finally exhausted, my companion and I stopped to buy bread as we were passing a bakery that was now in full swing baking. In preparation for the morning rush, I approached the window to buy the bread with a couple Lek, or dollars in my hand. I felt so alone. I couldn't really communicate that I wanted a loaf of bread, but I held up my money and the baker woman could see me scared and far from home. And I can't explain how she knew what I needed because the words that she said didn't have any intelligent meaning. It was literally some kind of communication without words. She persuaded me to come around the building to the back door. This bakery wasn't like a store where you went inside and shopped through choices of various pastries. It was more like a prison cell. Made of brick with metal bars over the windows, mostly as a protection for the baker against the hungry mob during bread shortages, which were common. So I walked around the back unsure why I was to do so, but feeling calm. She opened the door, refused to take my money, and handed me a hot loaf of bread straight out of the oven. As opposed to selling me a cold, stale, leftover from earlier in the day, which she was supposed to do, and gave me the kindness and gave me the kindest, loving embrace, so much so that I'm certain that I could feel my own mother's love in her warm, loving arms with no words to communicate. I could see in her eyes that she missed her son, who was in a far away place, probably Italy, and she understood exactly how I felt. In her, I saw a glimpse of how my mother felt and I hugged her back knowing that her son would've wanted to do that. I can't tell you what kind of communion took place between us, but for as far away and alone and desperate as I felt, I know a divine love enveloped us, and it wasn't conditional on any kind of business transaction, religious affiliation, or any type of sacrifice that I could have merited this kindness.

It was absolutely pure charity. She gave me a loaf of warm bread and filled my heart so full of love. I don't know who she is. I don't think I could ever find that same bakery. I was so lost that night, and it has remained in my heart for over 30 years. A complete stranger with a warm loaf of bread and a close embrace. That kindness imparted to me was so incredible that I can't adequately put it into words.
When I die and go into that foreign land beyond the veil, after leaving behind all that I know and love, I hope that she's there. If I find her in heaven with a loaf of bread and a warm embrace, then I will know that I'm in heaven.