I had occasion to pass along this poem to a friend, and in so doing, discovered that the author has revised it slightly. I thought it a good occasion to reprise my blog post from three years ago, with the updated text. Enjoy.
It is a sad fact of life that “no good deed goes unpunished.”
Perhaps you have done a kindness by helping someone in need, as Androcles removed the thorn from the lion’s paw. But for every Androcles, whose lion repaid his kindness, there are ten who are attacked by the one they tried to help.
Some good Samaritans get so discouraged when this happens that they just give up, and stop helping others. If our motivation in doing kindness is to get a reward—even the reward of gratitude—we often will be disappointed.
Instead, we do kind things because that is the person we want to be. Do it for ourselves. Do it for our sense of self worth, our self respect. Do it for one’s own sake.
In his 1968 booklet, “The Silent Revolution,” Kent Keith advised, “give of your time and effort because you care and want to give, not because you are expecting anything in return… Do things because you believe in them, and the simple satisfaction of having achieved them will be enough.”
He goes on to admit that helping others often results in being attacked and mistreated by those you are trying to help. But his response was not disappointment. Instead, he proposed “Ten Paradoxical Commandments,” that rang so true even Mother Teresa posted them on the wall of her orphanage.
People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.
If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.
If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.
The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.
Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.
The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.
People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
People really need help but may attack you if you do help them.
Help people anyway.
Give the world the best you have and you’ll get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you have anyway.
We show kindness to a lot of people on Littlefield Grid. We give of ourselves without any expectation of reward or profit. Sometimes, our kindness is repaid with gratitude. But that’s not why we do it. We extend kindness because that’s who we want to be.
Sometimes, we are repaid with thoughtlessness; and, on a few rare occasions, hurtfulness from the very people we helped. Thankfully, we have some terrific folks in our community, and that rarely happens. When it does, we could be resentful. But we aren’t. We keep right on extending kindness. And we always will.
Eight years ago today, Master, you gave me your collar, and in that moment I knew infinite joy. I am yours permanently, to infinity and beyond! I love you Master 🙂
(The background photo: “infinity room” mirrored art installation by Yayoi Kusama 2009. The artist intended it to symbolize eternal life; to me it captures my unending happiness as yours, stretching from that day eight years ago, to infinity and beyond!)
In 2014, on the 1st Anniversary of the opening of Littlefield Grid, my remarks were about building. On the 2nd Anniversary, my subject was inspiration; last year, on the 3rd Anniversary, I spoke about family. Today, I have one thing to talk about: Gratitude.
Gratitude is not only a debt we owe, or something we do to make someone else feel good. Gratitude should be something we do for ourselves. Having an attitude of gratitude, opening your eyes to look at your life and realize just how good you’ve got it, makes YOU a happier person. When we leave off complaining, and instead live in the awareness of the gifts we have been given, it changes our perspective about everything.
We have it good here on Littlefield Grid. We all could take a moment to step back, take a look at our situation, and realize just how good we’ve got it here. While other grids have failed, Littlefield is solid. Other grids have gone out of business; Littlefield is strong. Other grids have had technical breakdowns; Littlefield is running smoothly.
That is because Littlefield has what no other grid has. We have Walter. It’s because of Walter’s outrageous generosity that we have superior technology. It’s because of Walter’s vision that we have a virtual world focused on community, not profit. It’s because of Walter’s fierce leadership that each of us has a virtual home here.
And that is why I will lead the chorus of thanks – not because you need it, Master, but because I need to be grateful.
Master, when you gave me your collar, you promised to give me flight. And oh my, you have done that and then some. Buoyed up by your confidence and your love, I have soared. We all have.
In that spirit, I dedicate my exhibit for this year’s Anniversary as a monument of gratitude, to you, Walter, my Master and my love.
And I invite everyone whose lives have been touched by Walter’s kindness to join me in saying, “thank you.”
I want to reveal something personal about myself. It is not an easy thing to understand. I will do my best to explain it. I ask you, gentle reader, to suspend judgement until you have read my entire post, and do your best to understand, and, if necessary, forgive.
No matter where I start my explanation, it will be very easy to jump to conclusions. If you read one sentence, or even one paragraph, and quickly believe that you understand… please bear with me, because you probably don’t understand. Even if you think it’s simple, trust me, it’s not.
Let me start with a caveat: people are different. I know that seems crushingly obvious, but I need to say it. What is right and good and healthy and natural for me, may be completely different from what is right and good and healthy and natural for you. Just because something works for you does not mean that it works for anyone else. So please keep that in mind if you find yourself thinking that there is something “wrong” with me. Okay? Okay. So, here goes.
I am blessed to enjoy a handful of intimate relationships with some remarkable people. I give thanks every day that I am lucky enough to have these people in my life. I strive to show them the same love, compassion and respect that I have received. I am also blessed to be part of a wonderful community, to which I happily give time, talent and energy, because I enjoy doing so, and as a way of returning thanks for the many gifts I have received. I am very glad to be part of the community, part of a family, and part of a D/s relationship that is, quite simply, life-sustaining for me.
All of that is absolutely true. It is also true that I am sustained by solitude.
Since some of you will read that and instantly have a negative reaction, let me unpack it for you. Solitude is not the same thing as loneliness. Solitude is not isolation. Solitude is not withdrawal. Solitude is not depressing, painful, or unhealthy in any way.
For me, and others like me, solitude is serenity. Solitude is tranquility, a restful peace. Furthermore–and this is important–solitude is not the opposite of relationships. For me, solitude is fuel. Solitude is what enables me to love.
This is not true for everyone. In fact, it is not true for most people. Most people draw energy from being around others, and when they are alone, they feel lonely and isolated. They seek out company because being with people recharges their batteries.
I enjoy being with the people I love, and I seek out their company because I like it. I like to laugh and share and be intimate just as much as anyone. But for me, it takes a lot of energy. I like it, but I can’t sustain it. At some point, even if I am enjoying myself, I will begin to feel drained, then exhausted. And then, in order to recharge my batteries, I need solitude.
While I am alone, I am refueling. I am centered, focused and grounded. I may be working, playing, reflecting, studying, meditating, daydreaming, praying, planning, or indulging in small pleasures. But unless something unusual has happened to cause it, you can be certain that I am not sulking, pining, standoffish, hiding, lonely or withdrawn. I am most likely content, and happily immersed.
That doesn’t mean that I hate interruptions, or that I don’t want to be around people. If for some reason I need to protect my solitude, I will; that is my responsibility, not yours. So don’t worry that you will bother me if you interrupt me. And if you interrupt me and I say, “not right now,” it means exactly that–it doesn’t mean forever. It means that in this moment, I need to be recharging my batteries, but later, when I’m recharged, I’ll probably be up for spending time together.
A few years ago, I wrote about the difference between introverts and extroverts. I am an introvert. My source of energy is reflection, deep thought, solitude and intimacy. I need these things so that I can sustain essential relationships, work, activity and community.
That is who I am. If I am not like you, and if that bothers you, I hope you will forgive me. After several decades of self discovery, I know with deep certainty that this is who I am supposed to be.