Saturday, September 01, 2012 : 4:15 PM

To be a candle or to be a flashlight...

A cheerful greeting too early in the morning may be counted as a curse."

My sister laughs in recalling our school days where she'd walk down the stairs and yet again find me sitting at the base of the stairs with my sleepy face propped in my hands, enduring the time it would take for my body to begin cooperating with the schedule demanded by school.

That proverb has fascinated me since my youth. Certainly, I could readily relate to the notion of the "curse"--morning greetings were mostly noise to me.

I could also relate to the cheerful greeter in the proverb because I've seen people respond negatively to my joking, my "cheerfulness."

Here is the easy, convenient-for-me interpretation of this proverb: "Hey, some people are just grumpy. Even when you've done something nice, they're going to take it wrong. That's their problem. I'm just going to keep being me." Yeah, there are grumpy people, and that's a bummer.

Who doesn't want to be a bright spot, a light, a helper, a bringer of warmth? Consider when you are grieving or hurting: you can probably think of cheerful people you would like to be with and just as easily think of cheerful people who you want to keep away. Among your talkative friends are those you like listening to and others who drain you. Among your listening friends are those who clear the way for you to open up and those who add to a sense of risk for you to keep answer their questions. Both are of value--talkers and listeners--yet either can be a healer at one time and a drainer in another.

The proverb has contribute to my pondering both sides. A lifetime of detecting that some joking was untimely or inappropriate has reinforced these additional interpretations of the proverb: "My idea of 'cheerful' may actually be inappropriate." And "What I consider to be the perfect gift may actually not be." Hm.

The risk for me is not releasing my grip on a blindspot. I'd rather not consider that the "curse" may in fact be partly due to my insensitivity to the other person's needs or state of mind.

As Dad was declining, many folks visited. Without doubt, each was clearly motivated by incredibly good intent. Bravo, yes? What a beautiful thing that anyone would extend such care. Nearly all were life-bringers. Their variety in personality and variety in offerings were beautiful. And we also observed some head-scratchers and even some life-drainers. A lady came and loudly sang a long song that was interesting to her. And a couple came and talked all about their interests and goings-on and we just listened till they left.

If you're thinking, "Oh no! Have I been one of those drainers?" my response is that reaction right away demonstrates a great thing: thoughtfulness and alertness and openness to insight. In contrast, the folks I mentioned are ones who I'd consider either not so self-aware or not open to the notion that their gift is anything but perfect. I would never expect these people to ask, "How might I be more of a life-bringer and less of a drainer next time?" Take to heart that you have gifts and characteristics unique to you and you can use them to bring life. You don't have to be like someone else and their style. Go and encourage!

And so this proverb has served as a reminder that I need to be open to the possibility that I, the "cheerful greeter," have some responsibility in this exchange. I continually have an opportunity to consider what might work better next time.

Candles are a beautiful touch at a wedding or in a restaurant. They're an appropriate light in that setting. But in a mine collapse, a candle wouldln't be so smart. "Hey, I'm bringing light into this darkness! Of course I'm doing a good thing! That's my gift to you all!" But it's draining the room of oxygen. A flashlight would be appreciated in that setting. And a flashlight would be annoying in a wedding candelabra. How am I going to know what is best?