Letters to My Greatgrand Daughter: The Day I Stopped the Bully
Dear Charly,
The day I slapped a bully was probably the most exhilarating day of my life. It all happened so fast though, that part—I regret, because I find it difficult replaying the incident in slow-motion in my mind’s eye. No motion picture should ever end before the popcorn does.
The bully was stunned because I was- well, I am, I was, am, (does it matter?) the meekest of souls. The coolest and most absurd part of this situation was that I wasn’t even defending myself, I was defending someone else. I had been bullied by this same bully earlier that day and apparently, I did nothing.
Of course, the bully came charging at me right after the stunning open-palmed mayweather-loving I dished. For sure, I was going to get beaten to pulp! Great, the tooth fairy would have to make her second trip that month.
At that very moment, the most phenomenal thing happened. All the people who had stood around previously and had cowered during the bullying, suddenly received some boldness! They stood in front of me, shoved the bully back and formed a shield around me. The bully, of course, walked off in shame and with a severely finger-streaked face.
Charly, defend the weak. One day, when you need it the most and expect it the least, help will come your way. Someone will shield you because you shielded someone else. Of course, this doesn’t mean, you should go around slapping bullies and poking people in the eyes, that’s particularly risky and the tooth fairy may very well quit visiting and just move in all together. Understand that bullying is the root all forms of injustice and you should never be an observer.
Bullying occurs as a result of a power differential in the situation. The bully seems more powerful because he may be bigger, richer, higher in hierarchy, more knowledgeable—whatever he thinks he is— the trick is to strip the power by changing your perspective about him. He really isn’t that big, or that important. In fact, bullies only do it because they are deficient in love, security and kindness. Once you see them in that light, the emotion of fear is quickly replaced by compassion. Well, kinda. Someone should have told me this before I slapped the bully, right? Hehe.
If given another chance, would I do things differently? Probably not. Although, I might spin around on my heel, swing my arm a little wider, let my hand hang for a bit, wriggle my fingers theatrically before the slap eventually connects- you know, just to make sure the movie doesn’t end before the popcorn.
Love,
Great Gran x
PS: Beating up bullies doesn't stop bullying altogether. The bullies tend to find other victims or retaliate on a grander scale. The solution to bullying is to educate bullies about the value of kindness. This of course isn't practical on the play ground, office or in cyber-space (as in cyber bullying) but is the responsibility of the school, governing body, social media platform or at least, a person who is able to influence the bully and stir him in the right direction.
What are your thoughts? Is it worth educating bullies on kindness? Ever been bullied? Did you fight back? Have you ever been cyber-bullied? What do you think is the best solution to this? Would love to hear what you think!
October is National Bully Prevention month (in the US)
Letters to my Greatgrand daughter: I found the One and she's a "She"
Dear Charly,
I found the One!
No, not your Greatgrand father. I found the one, years before I met him. Surprisingly, she was a girl. She had short, curly lashes and a huge mass of brown hair that never fell. She bit her lip when she was nervous and doodled like her life depended on it. She couldn't hold a 15-second gaze without breaking it and then shifting her weight on her feet while saying something completely inappropriate.
She had an easy laugh and bounced around when we were alone. You could see her heart in her eyes and it beamed a yellowish hue of gold. She had long, gangling arms and sometimes she joked about cutting them off because she said it made her feel like a furry primate.
She took long, deep breaths after every rainfall and never avoided rain puddles. When we were together, the world stopped just because she smiled, we blushed at each other incessantly and my world never remained the same. But whenever others came around, she closed up fast and all they could see was me. She was so self-conscious and uncertain, all I wanted to do was hold her shoulders all the time- i think that was when I fell in love with her- the day I held her shoulders. In those shoulders, I felt all her strength, all her resilience and all her fragility.
I saw her this morning, right after I kissed your great grandfather as he left for work. She's still beautiful, very much so. She still bursts with mirth when we are alone, she still has gangling arms but she no longer doodles, she writes now, she says. Her gaze is a lot steadier, she even made it to 20 seconds, but nothing more.
Her smile broadened as she smiled back at me from the mirror- she was amused because she knew you'd never guess who it was.
Charly, I fell in love with myself ages before I met your Greatgrand dad.
I can't remember what prompted this decision but I decided to love myself anyway; and not just regular self love that is preceded by a hashtag but an intense astounding love that makes me blush in the mirror. I'd wink at myself (still do), i'd tell me how pretty I am, even when I wasn't feeling that way. I accepted me for who I was, I embraced my loud laugh, my large nose, my long arms, my complexion, my age, my hair, my skin, my body, my skills, my likes, my flaws, my inadequacies, my spirit, my abilities -everything I was destined to be. I realized consciously that every single part of me was designed intentionally for a purpose by God, even the random fact that I love only the red skittles and the red Pringles.
Once I accepted who I was, I decided to do the work of becoming the best version of me. I discovered this beautiful, fun, playful and sometimes quiet person, who I spent time getting to know and I discovered - hey, I could spend forever with this person!
I placed more value on myself and on my time and would not let anyone regard me with less than that value. In doing this, I was becoming more conscious of valuing others and respecting their time and the things they stood for and loved.
Dear Charly, love yourself and don't wait around for someone to love you until you realize how wonderful you are; don't look for love in sub-standard places, scraping around for it and eating leftovers.
Spend time with yourself and make yourself blush in the mirror. When you love yourself, you are able to love others, in the right measure and in the right quality.
It's in that journey of self-love that you can enjoy and place value on others; it's in that journey that you can foster growth in the lives of people around you and watch them flourish endlessly.
You are perfect when you realize the value of your uniqueness and spend your time improving those awesome qualities that make you, you.
Love,
Greatgran x
Ps Your Greatgrand dad almost passed out reading the first three paragraphs too. Hehe!
Letters to my Greatgrand Daughter- Why You Don't Deserve to be Happy
Dear Charly,
You do not deserve to be happy. Yes, I said it! YOU DO NOT DESERVE TO BE HAPPY!
You deserve joy-the highest form of it. You should want to climb to the top of a mountain and scream in delight, just because you can. You shouldn't have to pout and sulk because you lost a job or can't find Mr. Right or be sentenced to moodiness because Mr. Kinda-Right is acting up. Joy is that sparkly ball of tickled delight that bubbles unconditionally somewhere from your mid-gut, somewhere between your large intestines and stomach.
Oh Charly, if there is a man who makes you just plain ol' happy, i hope you are beginning to see how ordinary, common and unexciting that is. Happiness is dependent on variable factors; people, money, success, jewelry, makeup (don't ask), friends. They all have one thing in common, the lack of the consistency and the permanent ability to keep you in a constant state of happiness! So if Mr. Kinda-Right or even Mr. Right makes you happy, good for him, the day he doesn't feel too giving, guess what you'll have bobbing around your intestines? Joy! Crazy, infectious joy.
True, there is a time to cry and pout, certainly, but make sure it doesn't overwhelm you to the point of hopelessness. Endeavor not to crumble under heartbreaks and disappointments. My first heartbreak was very similar to the 6th layer of Dante's description of hell. I was lost to the world, whenever I was conscious, and whenever I fell asleep I sighed in relief as I slipped into oblivion, temporarily rid of the evil and pain on the earth. Every time I saw him, it would feel like my heart had been ripped from my chest severally and there was nothing left. It was the first time I would subject my state of joy to a person; unfortunately that wouldn't be the last time. I learnt much too late to learn to keep my state of mind independent of the willful actions of other humans or expectations. How about this- You be the one who infects with this beautiful thing called joy. It requires a conscious effort and a permanent reminder that you are full of so much love and positivity that, really, it's a wonder you haven't imploded! Your joy is from within and your internal environment must always be kept in a constant state of controlled delight, let nothing have access to it.
“Joy comes when you make peace with who you are, where you are, why you are, and who you are not with. When you need nothing more than your truth and the love of a good God to bring peace, then you have settled into the abiding joy that is not rocked by relationships. It’s not rocked by anything.”
So, you see you do not deserve to be happy. Not even a little.
Love,
GreatGran x
Letters to my great-granddaughter- The Assasination of Mary
Dear Charly,
This is the story of the assassination of Mary.
It was a dark, stormy night. As the rain slapped noisily against my window, all I could think about was completing my task. I sat in my old dilapidated room contemplating the plan. Ms. Y had come to me with the job. The target was Mary.
Mary had been making enemies or maybe not, I didn't care. My job was to take her out. In my line of work, many get paid for the services they render, but I do it because I enjoy it. I can't say many of my "colleagues" don't enjoy it much either but some of them end up in a shrink's chair. For me this is somewhat of a hobby. There's a joy that comes with taking existence, isn't there? A little laugh bubbles somewhere deep in your throat as you stare at the lifeless corpse you made. One minute there is life, a rhythmic thumping, a pulse - next, stillness, quietness.
Mary like everyone else would experience the stillness soon. She'd be removed, forced to cease, forced to rest in peace or in the Lord or in a pit. I smiled, almost fondly. I know Mary myself, we work together and I had thought knowing her firsthand would make the job harder, not in the slightest, in fact, I was ever so enthusiastic. I had no motive to kill either, so I guess the murder would never be traced back to me. The joys of getting away with murder, I giggled to myself as I polished my weapon. I'd write a book one day; How to Get Away with Murder, except someone beats me to it first.
Early the next morning, Mary was found dead at her desk. A couple of us knew who did it. Not to worry, i wasn't the only one who took Mary out, it was more of a group effort. We all chipped in at the office, a little stab here, another there, the same way we chipped in to buy her a chocolate frosted birthday cake last June. Now she was out cold, face ashen and mouth agape.
Just in case you have never thought about gossiping and backbiting this way, this is exactly what it is, Charly. The moment you open your pretty mouth to slander another person, you literally just killed the person. It's actually called "character assassination"; dishonoring another individual. People do stupid things, people do crazy things, people do down-right weird stuff but it's not your place to judge. Never was, never will be. When the gist comes your way, let it slide. Forget it and don't relate with the person based on what you heard.
I've done my own share of gossiping, probably enough to cover the next four generations of my progeny (another reason you don't have to). I've learnt to reconfigure my mind through a deliberate process, not to speak ill of people and to wish them the best, even if they slip up. Catch yourself when you can and stop polishing your weapon, someone might just be pointing a nozzle your way.
Love,
Great gran x
No one was hurt in the making of this post! If your name is Mary, I have nothing against you. Marys are my fave!