.SOMETIMES RAW.

Under normal circumstances, I fully encourage and support any attempt one makes to improve interpersonal communication. Especially when things are clearly communicated on time. Some know how to do this, but unfortunately, many do not.

A partner using “I” statements and engaging in concerted efforts to be clear, open and honest warms my heart. A boss or coworker who communicates clear guidelines and expectations is a cherished gem that I would regularly enjoy. Children who are able to clearly state what is or isn’t working in regards to my half-ass attempts at helping with homework make it easier for me to justify hiring a tutor. I love boundaries. I relish opportunities to really, deeply understand what someone needs or how they feel. It is a wonderful feeling to know that I am surrounded—for the most part—by people who are not assholes and know how to communicate.

Unfortunately, there are people in this world who believe—deep down in their sad souls—that they are effective communicators. What these people don’t realize is that they are just crazy.

Take wannabe Nonviolent Communicators, for instance. And also, people who are sociopaths or egoistic maniacs.

The premise seems harmless enough: Nonviolent Communication is a self-righteous cult-like language style that supposedly facilitates the flow of communication needed to exchange information and resolve differences peacefully. It also claims to help focus attention on compassion as a motivating factor, instead of guilt, blame, fear or shame. In some cases, it helps people to own their feelings. This, I appreciate. I always own the shit out of my feelings, and sometimes everyone else’s feelings, too.

The framework of Nonviolent Communication adds a lot of unnecessary words to sentences, though, and can chew up anywhere from four to thirty-five minutes of any given day. For example, if someone doesn’t feel like going on a date with the drunk woman who accosted them in their therapist’s parking lot, they can just give a calm and brief “no, thanks” as a reply to the solicitation. Or utilize the pepper spray tucked away in their bag. In Nonviolent Communication Fantasy Land, the response would be more like this: “I feel uncomfortable with the level of your alcohol intake, and I need to stay home and watch Sex and the City this weekend.” The latter statement sets a revolving door of interaction into motion and invites questions. And questions always lead to conversation. It seems to complicate things. And it wastes a lot of precious time. Thirty-five minutes a day means about eight days out of an entire year used to engage in conversations with people we’d rather avoid when we could be doing something fun, like sleeping. Or planting five acres of corn. Or having oral surgery.

In almost every instance, if the feelings bubbling up from our instinctive cores incite feelings of aversion, it is quite alright to say, “No.” Take this woman I knew who, loyal to her Nonviolent Communication teachings, decided it was appropriate to “honour” her two-year-old’s needs to repeatedly not get dressed in the morning. In typical terrible-twos fashion, he screamed and cried while he ran amok, tearing their apartment to shreds; his need for control running the game. The mother listened calmly and replied, “I hear that you don’t want to get dressed right now, Lil Johnny. I honour your feelings, and we can try again later.”

This is crazy talk.

A two-year-old doesn’t even know it has needs, nor does the child recognize what those needs are beyond hunger or the deep desire to covet a Playmobil pirate ship. An appropriate response would have been to lasso that little bastard and shove him into a heavily starched straightjacket and get on with the goddamn day. Next, this woman is completely oblivious to the fact that she is raising one of many in a generation of monsters.

This little asshole will grow up to be a large, adult-sized asshole who will eventually enter the workforce and begin relationships. Without a serious emotional smackdown and some mild shaming once in a while, kids like this become men and women with no sense of personal boundaries, frequently displaying asshole behaviour because they “feel like it.” Also, the world is a cruel, gruesome place full of unanticipated pain, and we should all be prepared for the hands of life shoving us down dark stairwells of disappointment every chance it gets.

In the worst-case scenario of overly permissive parenting gone horribly, horribly awry, Lil Johnny will grow up to ruin the lives of women everywhere. He will pose as an asshole and stalk his ex-girlfriends on social media because doing so meets his need to feel in control.

The rationalization for some of his displays of other wildly inappropriate behaviour will surely include passive-aggressive word play: “I am sorry your anxiety causes you to choose to perceive me as a bad person because I just did what I needed to do to survive this stressfull situation, called you a overly dramatic and left in the middle of the night to make plans to screw another woman. Maybe you should think long and hard about what you did to make me need to do that.”

It’s enough to make even the most sane person want to rip their veins out through their eye sockets in fits of unbearable confusion.

It doesn’t end with a few cases of Lil Johnny Lacks Boundaries. I believe that Nonviolent Communicator wannabes are the foulest creatures to walk among us. Most blend in and appear to be everyday, normal people who frequent parks, bookstores, cafes, independent movie theaters and live music venues. Upon close inspection, they can be spotted by an air of narcissism swirling around them and eyes that are open just wide enough to see the white orb curving back above their irises. They never blink. Often, while pretending to listen with an open heart chakra, their heads tilt just slightly to the right, as if positioning the left ear a few centimeters toward an open mouth will help them hear more fully. If they are in agreement with what they hear, their eyes squint and their heads will begin to bob like they are grooving to an inner rhythm of a slow-jam-mix.

But it isn’t merely the aesthetics of unfortunate fashion choices or the superiority complex that shines through their eyes to the condescending tone residing deep in their solar plexuses that makes these people some of the most irritating humans to be surrounded by. Some of them may have heartfelt intentions of making the world a better place. To them I say, Kumbaya, My Lord. Still, there is a fine line between Nonviolent Communication and verbal manipulation. Speaking in a calm, clear tone makes no difference if what you are saying is abusive, just plain stupid, in order for you to get what you want.

Nonviolent Communication tactics may be perfectly appropriate in circles of self-righteous, passive-aggressive cultish circles or among people who are independently wealthy, leaving them with endless hours to devote to self-improvement gimmicks. It leaves the rest of us exposed to the bitter wind of impatience and unanswered questions. And quite frankly, it transforms otherwise normal and understanding people into a pack of angry, mangy wolves. I wish people could just be decent and normal. Without being fullblown assholes.

But these are just my feelings.

I still have a preference for a “yes” or “no” over some long-winded, inconclusive response from some creeps whose prolonged eye contact makes me want to dissolve them in acid.

Obviously, I need to look at my inner “needs list” in Chapter 5 of my Nonviolent Communication book and reflect on what is missing in my life. Oh, nothing, my life is perfectly fine and content.

I think I just feel hurt when people act like assholes, and I need them to go away and never talk to me ever again.

Maybe I just need some empathy. Or maybe people should just try harder to stop being assholes.

Dating? These techniques might come in handy. You are welcome.

The Desperado: They get a dreamy look in their eyes, then, before you know it, swoop in quick as a bandit and shove their tongue down your throat.

The Zombie: Their lips are stiff and dead, and you want to whisper, “Pucker up, you lifeless weirdo,” but you can feel yourself become infected, the passion slowly draining.

The Lollipopper: They suck on your tongue like a child sucking on a Lollipop. You want to say, “Hey, that’s bad, stop that,” but you can’t speak, because your tongue is vacuum-locked in their death grip.

The Kubrick: Toward the end of a long, intense make-out, you realize their eyes are open—and you get the creeping sense they’ve been open the whole time.

The Weirdo: You try to get solid contact, but the angles are just wrong. Their head is strangely tilted, and their lips don’t obey the laws of geometry. Nothing makes sense.

The Missing Tongue: You kiss open-mouthed, but their tongue isn’t there. You search for it like a rescuer trying to find a lost German hiker in the Alps. You wonder if it’s hiding somewhere, retracted into a secret chamber.

The Mmmmm Yum Yum: They make extremely loud and distracting “mmmm yummy” noises that remind you of a hungry guy devouring spaghetti and meatballs.

The Duck: They peck you four times on the lips, then they lean back and stare at you like they want some bread.

The Lizard: They rapidly flick their tongue in and out of your mouth like they’re trying to catch a fly. Then they pull their head back and scurry across the sofa and out of the room.

The Transylvanian: Their seductive nibbles turn into full-on bites. Then, in a thick but commanding Romanian accent you hadn’t noticed before, they say, “Turrrrrn off the lights.”

The Aggressive Dentist: They perform an invasive, one-by-one inspection of your molars, canines, and primary teeth, then text you an invoice the next day.

The Abyss: Before the kiss, their mouth opens in a wide mechanical swoop, like a puppet’s. Their mouth-hole is too big, and you fear they will literally swallow your head.

The Vehicular Manslaughter: They want to kiss while they drive in a residential zone!?

The Wes Anderson: They kiss you while playing a ukulele. Just as things start to heat up, they pull away and give you a handwritten note that says, “I have never had sex.”

The Bi-polar Lynch: Halfway through the kiss, they call you by the wrong name.

The Break-Up: They lean in slowly and sensually, French kissing you first softly, then more urgently. Just as the intensity builds to a crescendo, their lips stiffen, and you feel a hot tear roll down their cheek and onto yours. They whisper, “I don’t love you anymore.” Then they lean in and do it all over again.

I believe there are two kinds of people: Alive people and Not Alive people. Alive people are engaged in the act of living, attuned to others, present in the moment, and “a little bit shiny”. Not alive people, on the other hand, exhibit and almost spiritual dullness. They are dampened, muted, and view life at a distance. 

I am an alive person who turns 44-years old tomorrow. Wow! Happy birthday to me. This year has been an amazing one so far with lots of changes, adventures and even more crazy stuff coming up, like a huge trip to Japan this month.

Today, I want to share a couple of birthday and life-notes that are helpful to me and make life easier. Because I am a visual thinker, it helps me to take notes and refer to them often. I take notes all the time and everywhere. I want to share my notes that I wrote down in my little Moleskine notebook and that are daily reminders that life is awesome no matter what it throws at me. Do not take my notes to be literal, all-encompassing, or fitting in every context. This is just what works for me. 

And always remember: There are lots of lavender bushes out there, waiting patiently to be sniffed. 

• If you don’t know what someone’s talking about, ASK. 
• Articulate what you love about the ones you love. 
• Empathise with caution, practice compassion with abandon. 
• Go for a walk. Don’t bring your phone. 
• Know that terrible and wonderful things will befall you, regardless of your anxiety and yearning. 
• Captivate your audience. Dazzle them with your wit, grace, and humour.  
• Think about what you will miss most when you are dead. Do more of that. 
• One possible solution to an urgent problem is to go to bed and deal with it in the morning. 
• I am plenty. I have plenty. Say it out loud! 
• Dispense advice if it is asked for. Otherwise, dispense love. 
• Think about how proud your past self would be if they could see you now. 
• Think about death enough to appreciate life, but not so much that it eclipses life. 
• Let other people be other people.  
• Write down things you observe, dreams, or things you say in conversations. Sometimes making art is just paying attention.
• Travel far distances to see old friends. 
• You will never need or use all of the knives in a knife-set.
• Talk to yourself sweetly, like you would speak to a scared child. Issue forgiveness gently and easily. 
• There are many kinds of beauty and your kind is one of them. 
• Look up. What do you see? What do you hear, smell, feel? Isn’t it fun to be alive?
• Make new friends: through other friends, through common interests, on the street, on the internet, through one person being brave, no matter how many friends you have, no matter how old you are. 
• If you find yourself obsessing about everything you don’t have, give something away to someone who needs it more. 
• When something is good, enjoy it.
• Consider that you might be wrong and correct course. 
• When people ask you how you are, tell them how you really are. So they will tell you how they really are, unless you don’t care how they really are, in which case it is fine to say “fine”. 
• You don’t need a good voice to sing. 
• Let the people you love the most tell the stories they love to tell, even if you have heard them before. For everyone else, politely stop them mid-sentence. 
• Your partner should get you through the hard times. Your partner shouldn’t BE the hard times. 
• Eat! Enjoy food!
• Take pride in being the least frustrated person at the airport, in traffic, waiting in line….
• Listen to yourself when you talk. 
• When complaining, consider why. Is it because you actually want something to change? Or just want support and affirmation? Or simply love to complain?
• You might die soon, or they might die. Or we all might. Make peace and hold each other close and never leave someone in anger and fighting without saying sorry. 
• If you have portraits of yourself up allover your house, people are going to think you are conceited. Replace them with portraits of me. 
• Be happy. Do things that make you happy within the confines of the legal system. Do things that make you feel good and proud.
• Help people. Help someone. Show someone you care. Say something nice. Smile. Make eye contact. Hug. Kiss. Laugh. Laugh as much as you can. 
• Find out who you are. Okay, this is a big one (that what she said!) but possible.

I don’t mean to tell you what to do or how to live your lives, but those are some of the things that have worked for me. And I believe with all my heart that even if we try the teeniest tiniest bit we can make this world a much happier and healthier one. And if we try even harder, we can do some pretty spectacular things. 

Oh, one more thing talking about spectacular: My eight book “The Average of All Possible Things” will be published this year. What an awesome birthday gift to me indeed. So, once again: Happy Birthday to Me.