I’ve come to realize that criticism comes easy to some people. Like mosquitoes, they live to sting any flesh available to sustain their ego fix. And as a friend reminded me today, trying to satisfy any ego is a sheer waste of time because it simply cannot be done.

So once I indulge myself in a modest portion of delicious annoyance, I realize how much I’ve lost interest in my weaknesses, gaps, and deficiencies. Ruminating on them doesn’t give the kind of rush I used to get when I was at an age where self-improvement seemed only possible on the heels of self-critcism.

These days, I mostly prefer to simply use criticism as an excuse to reflect instead on my highest intentions and most cherished strengths. This seems to work better.

We tell ourselves stories about why we do what we do. Part of growing up is having better myths to explain what we are willing to take responsibility for. We spend hours spinning the yarn of myths until we come on a story that we deem credible. We are less comfortable not knowing why we or someone else does what we or they do. Even bad behavior appears more acceptable if it’s adorned with a compelling causal myth.

One of the 4 principles of the wildly successful group process called Open Space Technology is: Whatever happens is the only thing that could. The wisdom here is that life is wasted in explanations; and it is lived in the next moment’s choices. The most honest explanation for anything we do is that we did it because we could. Any more explanation is a postponement of living into a new choice in the next moment given to us. Realizing we always do what we do because we can frees us to live into new possibilities.

In a conversation yesterday with entrepreneur-visionary Phil Nabors who pioneered whole foods groceries and restaurants, he reflected that technologies that are marketed to “save time” rarely do. We still experience a lack of time, perhaps more than ever.

I’m an admitted early tech adopter: on the internet in 1992, one of the first with a PDA in hand, wireless everything and anything, hanging out with guys who know what’s emerging before the local paper hints at it.

It’s interesting how technology creates a deficiency perspective, focusing us on the time we could have, but obviously don’t. From an abundance perspective, we have all the time we need. We don’t need more than one moment at a time to do whatever we want. An abundance perspective puts the responsibility on us to use each moment in a way that aligns best with our strengths and passions. Technology, I think, cannot give us more than one moment at a time. When it adds value, it does so only to the extent that it assists us in creating the highest quality of each moment possible.

We love ourselves to the extent that we love our mothers. Their lesson is that in spite of their having all kinds of limitations, we continue to benefit from their dedication to our well-being, always never quite knowing just how we would turn out.

Sitting at a light yesterday, I notice
two young people in the car behind me. She sits
with a self-absorbed intention to
not notice him casting futile glances and pleas
in the direction of her apparent disinterest.

He cannot help himself
as he offers his guilt
on the altar of her eternal unworthiness.

In that moment
for them,
there is no brilliant spring sun
warming the earth into a blossoming sea.
There is no world that would otherwise adore
their supple youth
as they freeze
in scripts
they will one day happily hurl into the fire of enlightenment.

The light changes and
I move
into the intersection of
gratefulness and the brilliant spring sun ….