The other day, in the grocery store, a young woman who worked there stopped and asked me if I needed any help. 

I said, No, but thank you—I’ve in this store for ten minutes, and you’re the first cheerful person I’ve seen.

She started to apologize, as if I was complaining about everyone else (my sister once worked at the customer service desk at this same store, and complaints are unfortunately common there). 

I quickly explained: I know how much work it takes to be cheerful right now, and I see you doing it, and I appreciate it. 

I will admit I got choked up saying it, and she looked startled and touched. 

I can be awkward sometimes, and disorientingly sincere. It’s a lifestyle choice, but me saying this was actually inspired by another conversation I’d had a couple weeks ago at a completely different store. 

This place had the front door locked, with a sign that said: Welcome! We’re limiting the number of people in the store, so please wait—we’ll let you in shortly. 

All good—except on this particular day it was raining buckets, as per usual in a Carolina summer storm. So, I only waited a couple moments but was fairly drenched when the clerk let me in. 

Flustered, she apologized. Twice.

And twice, I told her the truth: No worries. There are much worse things right now.

Later, the same clerk was manning the register while I was checking out, and she told me, You’re really calm. You have this way about you—I felt calm as soon as I saw you.

Like the young woman at the grocery store, I was taken aback but also touched.  I thanked her, sincerely—I may have even said, Thanks. I try, or Thank you. I have thirty-some years of practice.

She said, This is something that I’m trying to do more of, telling people what I see in them, especially when it’s something nice. 

Obviously, I liked this so much that I felt inspired to do the same a few weeks later. I’m bringing this up now, because it occurred to me: 

People might not necessarily be aware that being this way is a practice. Calm and cheerful aren’t necessarily fixed personality traits. Definitely not right now, when everyone is feeling tension. 

Actually, calm is a renewable resource. 

I go into a tense world and handle a situation with as much calm and kindness as I can muster. Then I have to renew my reservoir of calm. 

I aim to take personal responsibility for my demeanor. I do this in service of my community as much as myself. If certain things are omitted or other complications are added, I tend to lose my cool in unforeseen ways. (This happened as recently as last night during a family dinner at my parents’ house. I did take a moment to renew my calm and then apologized.)

Renewing my calm isn’t avoiding necessary action. It’s getting to a place where I respond to a situation in the way that helps the most people. It helps me navigate through challenges with calm and kindness.

So, I’m going to start sharing some of the ways I renew my calm:

• Some of them will be pretty informal.

• Others will be more structured—and will also probably be more writing-focused. (More on that later.)

I will not give instructions to tell you exactly what to do. I’ll just share more of what I do personally, so that maybe you’ll be inspired to find a practice of your own.

We can all use more calm, more cheerfulness, more of the good stuff that humans give to each other in tough times. 

This is one way I can share it with you—a way that might help you renew whatever you are aiming to bring into your world.

Originally posted on Instagram on 8/18/20