Leading with love in all things
When you wake up on the right side of the bed, put on your lucky socks, find that every stoplight on the way to work is green, and it’s a beautiful day outside, it’s easy to have an upbeat attitude and a heart full of gratitude. But how do you keep it all together when things don’t go so smoothly? As cliche as it sounds, love has been the answer for me.
But what does “love” actually mean? Well, this is something we’ll all feel a bit differently on. I have “love’s a state of mind” tattooed on my right arm, a subtle Stevie Nicks shout-out. Bell Hooks writes in her book, All About Love, that love is better suited as a verb rather than a noun; it’s how we treat others and show up for them — which is rather different than just a feeling we have towards someone. The Bible describes love as being patient, kind, protecting, trusting, and never-failing. In Buddhism, Metta meditation, or Loving-Kindness meditation, is a centuries-old practice meant to cultivate love towards others and yourself by repeating phrases such as “May I be happy, may I be safe, may I be well. May you be happy, may you be safe, may you be well.”
In all these different interpretations of love, there are similar themes of compassion and acceptance. To me, love and compassion are nearly synonymous. And for me, the idea of love is most easily evoked when I think of my young son. It’s hard to not be overcome with feelings of love when he races towards me to give me a hug. But loving a toddler who thinks you hung the moon is easy. Loving others — who have histories and opinions and grudges and more complex emotions — is a bit more difficult.
Sometimes, it’s small things that push love away. The guy driving behind me is angry because I’m driving so slow, and — when he finally has the chance — he speeds by me, giving me a piercing glare as our windows briefly align. The cashier at the check-out counter doesn’t greet me and seems almost annoyed that I need her help to check-out. My house is messy, I’m exhausted, and I am overwhelmed with work. In these moments, love flitters away, but it’s still in my rearview.
Other times, life is heavier, and love is even harder to find. The man next to me at the cafe is complaining about the number of individuals and families trying to cross the border; he mimics the motion of an automatic rifle when discussing how to deal with the situation. A person I care about posts on social media mocking and complaining about the LGBTQ+ community, a group of people I also care deeply about. Someone in my life is struggling with their mental health, and their traumas and anxiety and struggles are poured into all our interactions, causing strain and resentment. Sometimes I’m the one struggling with my mental health, and — despite furiously treading water — I can’t quite seem to keep my head above the surface.
How can I love people who put stains on my all-green-lights, lucky socks days? What if I am the person inflicting stains on others’ days? If love and compassion are so similar, then perhaps leaning into compassion is the answer.
I can relate to being an angry driver or an annoyed store clerk; I know what it’s like to be overflowing in emotions — typically from an event that has nothing to do with the present moment. In his book Nonviolent Communication, Dr. Marshall B. Rosenberg talks about how another’s actions have very little to do with how we react to a situation. He uses the example of someone being late to a meeting; if you arrive to the meeting 15 minutes early and have a busy schedule that day, you’ll be rather annoyed if the person you’re meeting is late. However, if you spill coffee all over yourself, leave the house 10 minutes later than planned, and then find out the person you’re meeting is also running late, you’ll feel a sense of relief. In both situations, the other person’s actions didn’t change — you did. This is helpful to remember when you run across a grumpy barista or a flustered co-worker. People have complex, ever-changing lives that don’t revolve around you.
For the heavier topics, compassion takes a bit more thoughtfulness. I know that so much of who we are as people is determined when we’re kids; it’s not set in stone, but it’s harder to change after that point. I know that trauma and adverse experiences change people, including trauma that’s passed down through generations. I know societal pressures — to fit in, to follow the status quo, to be a strong man no matter the cost, to be a well-mannered woman at all times— greatly impact us all. I know that a religion that threatens eternal damnation is a scary thing. I know that being a “hard worker” is a badge many people can’t bear to part with, even if they’re burned out and struggling to make it out the door each day. I know how privilege affects our lives and how the idea of privilege may be threatening. I know how unconscious bias impacts our decisions and the way we view the world. I know that people who are unkind towards others are usually the most unkind to themselves. I know we all just want to be safe and happy.
I know all this, hold it close to me, and try to evoke compassion for those who can’t seem to find compassion of their own. In her book You Belong, Sebene Selassie shares a concept that has helped me immensely: if I was born as someone else, with their same brain, same body, and every same life experience, I would have the same beliefs as they do. I am both grateful to have the beliefs I do, and I can also see how — if I was a different person — I might not feel the same as I do now.
If you’re reading these words, you know what it’s like to be in a tough season of life. (I don’t say this because I know who you are — I say this because everyone has gone through tough seasons). Your tough days might look like not being able to get out of bed or keep up with life. They could also look like high anxiety and irritability, where you can’t quite sit still and everything you encounter is the most annoying thing ever. There might be rage. Or there could even be desperation to pretend nothing is wrong, ending in an inevitable crash and burn. Welcome to the human experience. We can all find compassion towards others because we all know what it’s like to struggle — even if our struggles don’t look exactly the same.
If I hold love as my north star, then I can more easily pull it into my daily interactions. I’m still going to have tough moments and seasons where I can’t find a grain of love to spare — and i’ll still be the angry driver some days, I’m sure— but that’s being human, and I can have compassion for that, too. After all, I know loving myself changes the way I show up in the world, and I can love others better if I start with myself first.
Leading with love doesn’t mean everything goes, though. Boundaries are important. I can love people and also acknowledge that having them in my life brings more negatives than positives. I can have compassion for people while also acknowledging that the way they life their life is not how I’d like to live mine; love means accepting we see things differently, and — as long as they aren’t hurting others — letting them live how they see fit. I can feel compassion for children in war-torn parts of the world while also acknowledging that watching the news everyday will greatly hurt my mental health. It’s an endless balancing act.
Leading with love is also not about passively loving everyone while letting the world spin on by. I take action and push to support causes that mean more love in the world, and I stand up against acts that bring more hurt. I can build a company that promotes equity and acceptance for all, and I can actively let people know that I will love them — even if they don’t fit in the box others think they’re meant to stay in. After all, it was holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel who said: “We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. Sometimes we must interfere.”
So, with all this in mind: May I be happy. May I know peace. May I protect my light and allow it to shine for others. May you be happy. May you know peace. And may you always know that I will strive to love you as well as I can.
