On Developing Civility - By Sharon Flood Kasenberg

The Unsung Tongue

In all the praises writ and sung,
where's homage paid to civil tongue?
To tongue that uses words like "please"
to put another soul at ease?
And where's the ode to kindly voice
who love bestows through phrases choice?
I've thought this through and must conclude
that tones are brusque and words are crude -
and more attention is required
before our tongues bear fruit inspired.
It seems we humans really ought
to spend more time immersed in thought,
where we for gentler utterance seek -
and more endearing way to speak.
Accomplish this and soon we'll see
odes lauding our verbosity -
but sadly, 'til we reach that day
none shall praise tongues or what they say.

Sharon Flood Kasenberg, October 2012

"All of civility depends on being able to contain the rage of individuals."
-Joshua Lederberg 

Yesterday was an angry day for me. After sleeping badly several nights in a row I was feeling thin skinned and ready to lash out at the slightest provocation. And naturally the opportunity to feel provoked presented itself. Containing my quick temper has always been a challenge - and frankly one that I'm seemingly unable to rise to consistently. Needless to say, it was not a day to have my own frustrations reinforced by watching politicians behave badly - I passed on the televised debate and took to the couch with a book. It was hard for me to get to sleep - I don't like giving in to anger. I can't find my cool very easily once I've lost it. I know this, yet somehow still find myself feeding my inner angry beast far too often. I wallow in hurt and irritation, expecting everyone around me to be lucid enough to understand how they're setting me off. Forgetting that they are dealing with their own rage-inducing issues.

That's the biggest problem, isn't it? We're all so attuned to our own sensitivities that we fail to notice how irritating we can be to those around us. And it's this kind of heightened awareness of our own struggles, combined with ignorant obliviousness of those experienced by others, that contributes to the incivility that seems so rampant in society right now.

We would find it easier to employ our tongues more civilly if we remembered the golden rule - we should try harder to treat others as we'd like them to treat us. 

"Play fair. Don't hit people. Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody."
-Robert Fulghum

It sounds so easy - and it should be. Robert Fulghum summed up the simple philosophy he wrote about in his book, All I Ever Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten in those three short sentences. But let's look at those three sentences more carefully:

"Play fair"doesn't just mean don't cheat at checkers. It means we don't cheat on our income tax or cheat on our spouse. It means we don't steal or lie or misrepresent ourselves. It means we demonstrate that we understand civil rules of conduct in every facet of life. It means that when we disagree with someone we try not to dredge up every offense we feel they've made against us in the last decade. It means we try not to lash out at them because we feel hurt by something they (maybe unwittingly) said. 

As for hitting, it isn't just physical abuse that hurts. To quote Frank Herbert, "Words are (such) harsh machinery, so primitive and ambiguous." Words hit home in the most damaging way when we consistently aim below the belt, seeking to down a perceived opponent quickly and ruthlessly. When we are focused on nurturing civility we choose our words to edify, rather than knock down, those around us.

When somebody hurts us, an apology seems like such a little thing, but when we hurt someone else the simple utterance of "I'm sorry" can feel more difficult than giving an eloquent address to an audience of thousands. The admission that we behaved badly is a difficult trial for most of us. Pride can keep us from demonstrating a willingness to show civility by admitting that we were wrong, or mistaken. And ego can keep us from being agreeable when there is a difference of opinion.

"Civility also requires relearning how to disagree without being disagreeable. Surely you can question my policies without questioning my faith or for that matter, my citizenship."
-Barack Obama

 It's okay to disagree with someone's political or religious views, but to attack a person's character simply because they have a different view point is unacceptable. 

As Richard Dreyfuss said, "Civility is not not saying negative or harsh things. It is not the absence of critical analysis. It is the manner in which we are sharing this territorial freedom of political discussion. If our discourse is yelled and screamed and interrupted and patronized, that's uncivil."

A civil tongue recognizes the importance of tone and diplomacy. A civil listener doesn't take offense when another point of view is expressed. But sadly, too many of us have our sacred cows when it comes to matters of opinion. Recently, a friend of a friend on Facebook made the startling admission that she just didn't think she could be friends with anyone who didn't support the same political candidate as her!

Ralph Waldo Emerson put it this way:

"Almost every man we meet requires some civility - requires to be humored; he has some fame, some talent, some whim of religion or philanthropy in his head that is not to be questioned, and which spoils all conversation with him."
  
As small children we all get to the stage where whether Santa Clause exists is an ongoing debate. On any given day in the average kindergarten class, the Santa believers and non-believers will manage to play nicely together. There may be a moment of incredulity on the part of one child or the other when the issue first arises. They may even briefly retreat to their own corners when they realize their friend has lost faith in Santa and now can't be convinced he's real, but it won't last long. If only adults were as willing to see past their ideological differences!

Wouldn't the world be a happier place if we just didn't concern ourselves so much with who voted for which party or attended which church, or any church at all, for that matter? When we begin to really grasp the concept that that every person is allowed to think and live the way they wish, the world will be a much more peaceful and civilized place. Ideologies don't create goodness in an individual - behavior does. It is our own egotistical desire to convince other people that they need to see things our way that keeps our tongues from being civil. We can't seem to move past that initial moment of feeling incredulous over differences of opinion. We need to justify our own position and to prove that our way of seeing it is the right one! Our words become patronizing, and our voices get louder -

"Raise your words, not your voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder."
-Rumi

It's hard to be civil when we're so focused on being right. Its hard to be kind when we're more concerned with satisfying our own ego needs than we are with considering the way our arguments sound to the other person - the way our words are making that person feel. We'd all like to think that our greater knowledge and (often dubious) wisdom will seed beautiful flowers in the fertile soil of another person's brain, but for the most part they just don't see it that way. Their internal planters are all full, and ready to strew seeds elsewhere too. So unless you're certain that you're as open to their ideas as you'd like them to be to yours, you're better off finding something less controversial to discuss. If you never reach a consensus on certain subjects, it's okay - you can still appreciate the good qualities you see in each other. 

Appreciation of others aids us in our efforts to be kind, and feeling kindly disposed towards others is a great step forward in the process of developing a more civil tongue, which will lead to a more civilized world.

"Kindness in thought leads to wisdom. Kindness in speech leads to eloquence. Kindness in action leads to love."
-Laozi

Perhaps the only way to control our uncivilized outbursts is to retrain our brains to think kinder thoughts. When we believe that most of humanity is essentially kind, we will find it easier to be kind. When we spend less time ascribing negative motives to those around us, we'll have more positive attitudes about the people we encounter each day. When we communicate kinder, gentler thoughts, we may not become eloquent in a "fluent or skillful" way, but Mr. Webster also throws the word persuasive into the definition, and that makes sense to me. When we use our tongues to promote civility by being considerate, mannerly and complimentary toward others, they are much more inclined to listen. And when our tongues become more fluent in the language of civility, our actions will soon follow suit.

"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around."
-Leo Buscaglia

If we want people to care what we say, we need to voice kind thoughts. If we want people to hang on our words, we need to show our sincerity through our actions. Everyone has a bad day occasionally, and until we ourselves can behave civilly at all times, we need to be able to show a little more empathy for the people who struggle around us. We can try to deflect thoughtlessness with kindness, or we can jump into the fray with anger and criticism of our own. 

You can choose your own course of action, but I've decided that I need to try harder to contain the anger that bubbles over in me and too often contributes more incivility to a world that is already rife with it. I'm going to spend less time expressing every critical thought that passes through my brain, and more time utilizing my tongue to show love and appreciation. I'm going to try to be more mindfully loving - in thought, in speech, and in deed.

Civility does in fact begin as an individual pursuit, as the last stanza of one of my poems illustrates:  

Thus it appears I can assume
that for improvement all have room
and I could boost civility
with small improvements made in me.
And with this thought I comprehend
some small behaviors I could mend
to be less guilty of the crimes
that typify these ruder times.
More often I will think to thank -
I'll fight the urge to be a crank.
When needs of others I respect
then changes I'll perhaps detect
as all that is improved in me
sends ripples through humanity.

(From Civility - by Sharon Flood Kasenberg, undated.) 

Seeds of Thought - by Sharon Flood Kasenberg

Fading Glory

The fading glory of the autumn flowers
is evidence of end of summer hours.
The sun's heat wanes; September days grow chill -
yet of my garden I've not had my fill.
In spite of tattered leaves and blossoms bleached,
and pinnacles of beauty still not reached -
the barren stalks hold mem'ry of what's done -
of rampant blooms beneath an August sun
and promise of fresh growth when spring's begun.
I turn from fading blossoms with a sigh,
but know they'll bloom afresh - though by and by
Too soon they'll wear a blanket cold and white,
and when it melts they once more will delight.

Sharon Flood Kasenberg, (From the unfinished files - completed May 2016)

This has been a season of beginnings and endings for me, and as usual my experience within my garden has perfectly symbolized the bigger picture of my life of late.

Spring started with the usual gardening chores, but this time I trimmed the plantings in my old garden with a slightly more melancholy air, suspecting (and rightfully so) that it would be my last time doing those chores in that particular garden. As I cut back the old growth and raked out my garden beds I wondered who would be doing those care taking tasks next spring. I fretted that maybe the new owner wouldn't love my garden as much as I did. I hoped that it would remain intact, but without knowing that it would I went about my usual routines. It's important to do your best to leave every place a little nicer than you found it. Besides, I knew I had no control over what happened in my garden later, but I sure as heck was going to take care of it while I could!

Our home sold in July, and we closed at both ends in mid-August. It was a crazily busy three week turnaround, but three days before we moved out I took a break from the seemingly endless chore of packing boxes to spend a final hour or two pulling weeds in my garden. It was important to me to leave it in good shape, even if it was something the new owner decided to uproot.

And, as it turns out, she planned to do just that.

It was hard for me to cede control of my garden, and following some gut instinct I'd left a note for the new owners, asking them to please contact me if they ever decided to remove a section of the plantings we'd put in. I knew they were under no obligation to contact me whatever their intentions were, but I hoped that even if they didn't appreciate the beautiful garden we'd put in, they'd at least recognize that it mattered to me. A week after we'd moved into our new home we received an email - the one that confirmed that what matters to one person doesn't matter to another.

Ironically, the new owner is a gardener too, but she wanted to pull up all of the flowerbeds around my flagstone circle and put in a greenhouse and vegetables. Vegetables!! I understand that "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" (and it really is), but to have all of my gorgeous garden beds ripped out and leveled for something as prosaic as vegetables is something I will never quite be able to wrap my head around. Nevertheless, I will give her credit for recognizing that those flowers, the ones her pragmatic soul probably saw as a decadent waste of time, mattered to me.

I could argue for hours about the value of food versus flowers in a first world nation. In the end, who is to definitively assess whether it's more important to grow sustenance for the belly or the soul? It's a moot argument anyway, because my house - and my garden - ceased to be mine the moment the keys changed hands. She could do what she wished with both. And she was, at least, kind enough to honour my request for the unwanted plants.

So I said good-bye to my old house once, and my old garden twice. The second good-bye should've been worse, because it was a sad looking mess when we'd dug out a truckload of plants, but really it wasn't so hard. Something had shifted in my thought process - the garden wasn't mine anymore - but the plants I had re-acquired were. I already had garden beds cleared for them at my new/old house. They'll never be anything like the extravagant show-stopping berths that I had loved in my old yard, but they'll be homey perennial beds that suit their location in the yard of a big old Victorian house in a little Ontario town.

Thus one ending played a part in a whole new beginning. Isn't that just the way life tends to go sometimes? I've learned that we don't always have a lot of control over the way things end, but that we almost always have some say in what happens next. I've seen several chapters of my life draw to a close over the last few years. I've gone through menopause. My children have grown up. My interests have changed. My beliefs have changed in a lot of different ways. Now I've moved - again. I'm okay with all of it. Change isn't as frightening as it used to be, and every ending ushers in a new beginning.

Today I planted bulbs in fresh (and refreshed) garden beds, and then spread a mountain of mulch over all the old plants, the re-planted plants, and the anticipated spring blooms that will (hopefully) emerge from those bulbs I buried.  I transplanted some snap dragons from a container into the garden, and as I did I noted that a few of them are blooming again. Likewise, a patch of crocuses has suddenly appeared in full bloom beside my lily bed! Six days before the end of summer - and as I cover my new bulbs and tutt-tutt over my rudely hacked-down-so-that-they-could-be-transplanted lilies and cone flowers, I get to enjoy a few bonus spring blooms!

This year, as I watch the flowers wane and the leaves turn colour in my new town, I'll be thinking ahead to seasons yet to come. I'll be thinking about which bay window to put my Christmas tree in, and how to dress up my new/old house for the holidays. I'll be thinking about delivering Christmas cookies to a whole new batch of friends and neighbours, and maybe doing some entertaining in this grand new setting.

And as long winter days set in, I'll be thinking ahead to my tulips and narcissus and eagerly waiting to see them poke through the chilly ground. I'll be looking forward to my old/new plants growing back full and lush in their new location. I'll be making plans for new plantings and further rejuvenating the gardens that surround this old Victorian lady.

My new life here is all about restoring what's been lost, torn out or neglected in this fine old building. Endings and beginnings all seem to converge at this place. In bringing this house back to life, I suspect I'll find a new way of living too. Something has reawakened for me here - not unlike a garden in spring. Somehow I feel like those bulbs I put in this morning - I'm just waiting to blossom.

It is a happy thought.