I got a couple of those Facebook Memories today that I’m glad I wrote. I’m grateful I saw them this morning, and I want to share them.
November 5, 2018
I wrote this yesterday on my tumblr thing. I’m sharing it here for anyone who struggles with the same things I do.
I’m having a bad day. It happens. So I take my own advice for people who are having a bad day, and I get out of my house. I go for a walk. I work hard to push negative and hurtful thoughts out of my head, and I replace them with positive things. It’s little observations at first, like the trees are starting to drop their leaves, a dog has a cute beard, this person’s Halloween graveyard has tons of great puns in it.
I take this positive voice that’s enjoying things in the neighborhood, and I use it to talk to myself. I remind myself that my experience is valid, even if random strangers who know nothing about my experience tell me that it doesn’t, on account of my privilege and success. I remind myself that this terrible way I feel isn’t forever. I remind myself that my wife and children love me. I remind myself to make an appointment with my therapist.
I’ve walked a couple of miles by the time I get back to my street, and when I’m a few houses away from mine, I feel better. I still don’t feel good, but I’ve moved my day from a 1 to a 2 on my 5 point scale. It isn’t the 4 I am hoping to achieve, but it’s better, and just moving from 1 to 2 is enough.
I am enough. I am enough for my wife and my kids and my dogs, and I’m learning to be enough for myself. I’m learning to let go – trying to let go – of the pain I feel whenever I’m reminded that I’m not enough for at least one person in my life, because it’s not my fault.
One of my neighbors comes out of her house and tells me that her daughter’s English teacher is a fan of my writing, and when he mentioned it to her class, she told him that we’re neighbors. He was excited by that, and asked her to ask me if I’d come into the class to talk to them about writing and being a writer.
I tell her that I’d love to do it. I don’t tell her how humbling and overwhelming it is to feel wanted by someone because I’ve done things that matter. I hope she doesn’t see me squeeze the tears back into the corners of my eyes.
Her daughter comes outside, and we talk about me coming to her class to talk about writing and being a writer. She tells me how much her teacher loves me (those are her exact words) and I feel so lucky and grateful to have done something that somebody cares about, something that a teacher feels makes me worthy of speaking to a class of 11th graders.
So I give them my email address, and we resolve to coordinate with her teacher next week. I’ll probably go speak to her class sometime in December.
By the time I’m done talking with them, I have moved from a 2 to a 3 on my 5 point scale, and that’s a HUGE improvement over the 1 I was feeling when I walked down my driveway.
So I’m sharing this good news that I hope inspires and comforts anyone else who is having a bad day. It’s possible, through loving ourselves and allowing the kindness of others to get past our defenses, to turn a day that’s awful into a day that’s okay, and it can happen really quickly.
I’m glad I took my own advice, and I’m grateful that I have an opportunity to share it with all of you who are reading this.
I ended up talking to that class of 11th graders shortly after I wrote this. It was as terrifying as I expected. The few times I’ve been on a school campus as an adult I have felt all the anxiety, insecurity, the feeling of not belonging, that overwhelmed me for the very brief time I was in public high school (as it turns out, I touch on that in the other memory I got today, which is coming up). This time was no different. But when I access my memories from that day, I recall feeling that the kids in that class were all on my side. It was like they sensed how weird I felt, and they made a choice to put me at ease.
I don’t recall everything we talked about in our Q&A, but I clearly remember the last minute or so before the bell rang. I have this short list of … I guess you’d call them rules? Maybe guidelines? Values? These are my guiding principles, I suppose, and they’ve worked out well for me. So I share them with kids whenever I have the opportunity.
“We’ve been talking about about an hour, and if I’ve earned some credibility with you, I hope you’ll take some of this to heart,” I said, pulling a piece of paper out of my pocket. “You know how you would get in trouble for doing something ‘on purpose’? I want to take the concept of “on purpose” and make it literal. When you choose to do these things I’m about to share, you will be doing them “on purpose”. I don’t know if this will make sense now. If it doesn’t, maybe you’ll remember it later in life and it’ll be relevant to a choice or a challenge you’re facing.
“These are the things I do ‘on purpose’, to literally give my life purpose.”
I looked up. I saw that I’d lost some of them, while others seemed to be listening intently.
“I’m a reasonably successful person. I don’t mean in my work, or only in my work. I mean in my life. I have great friends, I get to do cool things, and I’m happy a lot more often than not. I believe that I got where I am in my life by choosing to do these things:
- Be honest. I’m a very old man, relative to y’all, and I’ve learned that the only currency that really matters in this world is the truth.
- Be honorable. This dovetails with number one. You attract to yourself what you put into the world. Dishonorable people will take everything from you and leave you with nothing. Do your best to be a person they aren’t attracted to.
- Work hard. I don’t mean, like, at your crappy minimum wage job you hate. I mean do the hard work that makes relationships work, that gets you ahead in your education, that gets you closer to your goals. Everything worth doing is hard. Everything worth doing requires hard work. Sooner or later, you’re going to run into something in your life that’s really hard, and you’ll want to give up, but it’s something you care so much about, you’ll do whatever you can to achieve it. It’s going to be hard, but it’s going to be less hard for someone who has practiced doing the hard things all along, than it is for someone who doesn’t know how to do the hard work because they’ve always chosen the easy path.
- Always do your best. Even if you don’t get the result you wanted, doing your best — which will vary from day to day, moment to moment — is all you can ever do. We tell athletes to leave it all on the field. Whatever your version of that is, do it.
- This is the most important one. This is the one I hope you’ll all hear and embrace. This is the one I hope you’ll share with your peers: Always be kind.”
When I read number 5, I looked up at them. I was so happy to see a classroom filled with teenagers who were all listening intently, even the ones I thought had tuned me out. “Here’s the thing about being Kind, versus being Nice,” I said. “I have interacted with lots of nice people who are incredibly unkind. Why is that? How do you choose to be nice but not kind?”
I pointed to my head. “This is where nice comes from,” I said. Then, I put my hand over my heart. “This is where kind comes from.” I lput my hands out, like, “get it?”
There was this collective gasp of realization that I did not expect, at all. One kid said “Oh damn!” I saw a few kids look at each other like the trick had just been explained to them. They heard me. They really, really heard me. And it was amazing.
This happened … three years ago? So these kids are all around 20ish today. Since then, they’ve been challenged in ways I can’t imagine. We had a Fascist in the White House until last year. The pandemic we all hoped we’d overcome has been deliberately prolonged by people who want these kids and their peers to suffer, because it owns the libs. I could go on and on about the ways America has failed this generation, and I could righteously rage against the people who are perpetuating that. But I do that already, and that’s not what this is about.
This is about a moment I shared with some kids who I honestly should have been calling young adults all along, and how I remember feeling like that moment made a difference in some of their lives.
I’d forgotten about this, until I saw the memory this morning. I doubt very much that anyone who was in that class will ever read this, but if you do: thanks for making me feel comfortable enough to share these things with you. I hope it was helpful and meaningful to your life.
The next memory Facebook coughed up is a little more recent, but it dovetails with the first one in an unexpected way.
November 5, 2019
One of my biggest regrets in my life is that I didn’t go to college. When I was 18 and desperate to get out of my parents’ house, I moved to Westwood, where UCLA is, and moved in with Hardwick, who I’d known for a little bit, and who was already attending.
I planned to enroll in two years of Extension, and then apply to the university after. I have no idea if that is even a thing that a kid can or could do, though, because the instant I started filling out my Extension forms, I panicked.
What if I didn’t know how to *be* a college student? What if I failed? I was certainly going to fail. I was a stupid actor. I knew that. Mrs. Lee told me that in 9th grade, and my dad has spent my whole life making it really clear to me that I was worthless (fun sidebar: when I was 19 or 20, I read The Portable Nietzsche. I thought a lot of it was bullshit nihilism, but some of it resonated with young me. I wanted to share that with my dad, whose approval and affection I craved, desperately. When I did, he told me I was “being a fucking intellectual” and “nobody likes a fucking intellectual.” I was so humiliated and kicked in the balls by that statement, I never pursued any further reading of philosophy, or mentioned it to him, again). I didn’t even have real public high school experience beyond one awful semester when I was a Freshman. I had no idea what to do, and I was so afraid of failure, I never turned the forms in.
Here’s how sheltered I was and how unprepared I was as a kid, crawling into adulthood: I thought you *had* to be in a fraternity if you were in a college. I didn’t know any better, and my dad was in a fraternity (which explains SO MUCH about what a jerk he was hashtag not all frat guys), and TV and movies were heavily focused on that whole thing, so I just extrapolated from what information I had and … well, garbage in, garbage out.
For years I told anyone who asked me about it that I had to withdraw because I was getting work as an actor. That’s partially true. I *was* getting work as an actor, but it wasn’t enough to justify not going to a single class. The truth was, I was terrified of the uncertainty. I felt like the only thing that mattered, the only thing I was any good at, was being an actor. And even then, at 18, I knew that it wasn’t my passion. I wasn’t ready to admit to myself that I was living my mother’s dream, and trying so hard to do the only thing I was good at because I hoped it would make my dad love me, but when I met other actors my own age who hadn’t been pushed into it by their parents, they had a totally different energy around them. They had this incredible and wondrous knowledge of theatre and film and acting technique, that they’d devoured and studied. They had the artistic calling, of art for its own sake.I had the fear of failure, and the growing awareness that I didn’t love the one thing I was good at. And, I have to be honest: I wasn’t even that good at it, then. I was OKAY, but not great. I knew that, and I knew that I would get better when I understood technique the way those other young actors did, as opposed to leaning on the instincts and experience I already had.
When I got older and eventually went to drama school, where I studied Meisner Technique for years, I did get better. I’m good at it now, I like being on the set now, and I’m proud of the work I’ve done, even the stuff that isn’t that great like The Liar’s Club. That work and those years of study actually contributed to me finding my own path, and discovering the confidence to be a writer and storyteller. I learned when I was in those workshops and scene studies that the performing wasn’t what I loved; it was the preparation, the deconstruction of the scene and the character, the *work* that went into getting to know who the characters were and *why* they were in *this* scene, what was at stake, and what all their obstacles were. As a writer, now, I use all that training I had for scene preparation, when I’m creating a scene from scratch. It’s awesome.
But, way back in 1990, I was just afraid of so many things, and I wasn’t supported in the ways I needed, so I let that fear consume me, and didn’t attend a single class. I have always regretted that.
A few weeks ago, I decided that I was going to take an online course, not for credit, but just for knowledge. I looked at TONS of courses, and decided that I would take a writing course. I have a lot of practical experience writing essays like this one, narrative nonfiction, and short opinion pieces, but I have no formal writing education, beyond reading some books. This is not to say that reading some books hasn’t been helpful! I have learned a TON about structure and character design and pacing from books. I’m a competent fiction writer, and I credit the books I read with helping me understand my own writing process a little better.
But I decided to take a writing class, anyway, because I thought I would get some insights that would help close up the gaps in my knowledge. I spent a lot of time looking around online, and decided to take Brandon Sanderson’s course at BYU. It’s a series of 11 lectures and a Q&A, that was recorded in 2017. I’ve been watching one lecture a day, taking weekends off, and tomorrow I’ll finish.
It’s been a fantastic experience for me. I haven’t learned as much new stuff as I thought I would, but even more importantly, I’ve had many of my instincts and experiences confirmed and validated by someone I respect and admire, who is successful in my field. The new things that I did learn have been PROFOUND for me. Like, huge, epic, explosive revelations and insights that I did not expect at all.
The biggest revelation hit me this afternoon, as today’s lecture was wrapping up: I doubt myself way too much. I’m smarter and more capable than I was raised to believe I am, and it would serve me well to trust my instincts more. I should listen to my OWN voice when I’m creating, and not invent voices that criticize me, humiliate me, or minimize my accomplishments.
I got a lot of good, useful, practical, experience and knowledge from Professor Sanderson’s class, but the most profound thing I got out of it wasn’t even directly related to what he was teaching, which I believe is what going to college is all about.
I don’t know what it’ll be, but I’m going to start another course when I finish this one. Maybe something in history. I’ve always been interested in learning more about the American Civil War and Reconstruction, and that seems really, grossly, horrifyingly relevant to this moment in our history.
I’m really grateful that I can pursue knowledge for its own sake, and I’m even more grateful that I’m not afraid to do it
So these two things were written on the same day, a few years apart. I never would have thought to put them together, didn’t even know that they went together, until I saw them side by side today.
I see that, when I talked to those kids, I was telling 17 year-old me all the things he didn’t hear, that would have made such a big difference for him. I was being the person I needed in the world, even if I was like thirty years late.
I still live by that list. It is my guiding star, and it has served me well.
Today, I’m adding to the list: whenever possible, be the person you need(ed) in your life. Do it on purpose.
This is precisely what I needed today, and I appreciate how well you articulate All The Things.
I’m struggling with the potential impending death of one of my childhood and adolescent abusers. She has been a significant part of my life for over 50 years, and what she’s going through is so gruesome that I wouldn’t wish it on anyone … and yet, even while horrified, I’m also feeling quite distant. (“Do I contradict myself? Very well, then … etc.”)
Your body of work helps me put into words some of my own process, which has often remained unfathomable. Thank you for helping disempower some of the murkiness. I appreciate you.
Thank you sir, for being the sort of kind, considerate and thoughtful person we need more of in this world. I am only a few years younger than you but I find great inspiration in how you think about yourself and the world. Your writing about mental health and how to live with it has helped me a lot in coming to grips with how to handle my own anxiety and depression.
Hey –I came over from Facebook. Just wanted to let you know I thought this was great. I hope you share more of your blog posts over there. I love the whole ‘nice vs kind’ idea. I think I’ll pass that along to my kids.
Thank you for sharing this today. My daughter is having an incredibly tough time accepting herself and we wish we could make her see herself the way we do and be at peace with herself. Having someone like you speaking in school would be fantastic, and inspiring for her…unfortunately, we’re a bit far away in Cumbria, England 🙂 I’m going to share this blog with her, though.
Thank you
Kath x
It sounds to me that you are the ‘Good Enough Mum’. You are showing that you are concerned, that you are proactive and pragmatic when it comes to raising your child.
I have to tell myself this (that I am good enough) as a mother to a child/teenager (she is both) and who also struggles with acceptance of who she is inside.
I will also be sharing this blog post with her. I already found out that my nephew follows Wil Wheaton on social media, and I am so happy about that.
I absolutely love these rules for living. I want to share them with my fifth graders. We may look at one a week and discuss it , since there is a lot to unpack with each one.
I love that you’re going to share this with your students. If you would like me to be part of it, send me an email and I’ll see what we can do.
Also, I typically put these Discord invites on Facebook, but it feels appropriate to put one here, today. https://discord.gg/aXurGXa3
Thank you – I appreciate the Discord invite – that is definitely going to be a line in my gratitude journal tonight. 🙂
Wil, I love reading these things on your blog and hope you never stop posting, even though you think it goes into the void. Plus when a post particularly affects me, I post my appreciation here instead of the Facebook share, just because I feel like you’d see it here before FB.
Wow – this would be incredible. I will email you!!
Thank you for cross posting these facebook things. I really appreciate it. The insight you have into your personal history, and the work you have done, have helped me to help the most important person in my life deal with similar issues. I am grateful for you every day.
Thank you for sharing, Wil.
I am going through my own awakening regarding the roots of my insecurity and pain.
I have my own kids and have always thought I need to be the mom I wish I had. And I’ve been proud of how I’ve gone about doing that. My kids are unconditionally loved and happy.
Only recently have I realized that I can be, to myself, my inner child …. The mother I wish I had.
It’s been humbling in a way to have a memory pop up and instead of just feeling the pain … to actively comfort myself the way I would my own little girl…. To tell myself it’s okay, that I am special, that I can do anything I put my mind to and that I have everything I need for success within me already.
I really feel your growth in the last little bit … maybe it’s because I am experiencing my own and I’m just vibing with your strength more fully…. But I appreciate you.
You have helped me and many like me more than you know.
Reading this gripped me. My social anxiety has always set me back for the past 4 years, just me constantly being so self critical of myself, having negative thoughts, caring too much about what people think about me. Its no wonder I’m a highly sensitive person . I’ve ‘stopped’ caring about what people think about me, but it used to be a conscious thing that i did, whereas know its unconscious (I still care even though I’m not aware that I do it.)
I know its silly and stupid of me to think that I’m not interesting enough because I am, its just my anxiety that belittles me and drags me down, but I know to seek for help and not bottle it up.
What I can take from this is the following:
Not to be self critical
Not to doubt myself
I am enough
I have innate self worth that doesn’t require proof or justification
People’s criticism’s, judgements and ‘facts’ of you reflects them, not you. (BTW, their ‘facts’ are their OPINIONS)
Not to focus on external factors such as achieving the highest grade or gaining a professor’s approval. (Neither of the two reflect my self worth)
Never stop being kind because of horrible people
Quite important this one: Intelligence is always a beautiful/attractive/sexy trait.
Great blog! I appreciate you sharing it via FB. I have bookmarked it so I can find it again to read more!
I can’t be a million page views or hundreds of comments, but I can be an appreciative reader and use my one comment to say thank you. As a fellow gen-xer that has also struggled with self-esteem and depression your words have often resonated with me. Despite that, I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you before, so please allow me to correct that now. Thank you for the words on this page, and the many pages preceding them that have helped de-stigmatize some very familiar struggles.
These are great lesson, Wil. Even at 53, they ring true to me, too.
I love reading your thoughts about your life and your struggles. I’ve always grappled with impostor syndrome, and the older I’ve gotten the more I’ve realized that I’m not alone – almost every successful person I’ve been able to talk to has many of the same feelings. I love your writing, and to hear that it’s something you still are working on helps me keep pushing through to improve my own skillset. That need to be brave, to push outside of my comfort zone – it’s always been a huge struggle. Thank you for sharing such personal things. It really helps. It’s an aside, but also, thank you for the wonderful conversation you shared with me on JoCo, the last night of the cruise before we went to all boat. It was serendipitous and organic, and I loved just being able to talk about the cruise with you and speculate about what the whole ship would bring. You do a wonderful job with demonstrating kindness.
Thanks. Also just wanted to say as a long time lurker here and on your fb. I still read everything you post here. And I really appreciate you posting here.
I don’t like to post publicly. It freaks me out but I want to let you know I hear you and appreciate what you share. Many things you say are not only uplifting for myself but my kids too as I pass along many of your writings to them.
Thank you.
Thank you Will. My parents were imperfect, and not always the parents I needed. They were immigrants and I grew up in a whole new world they were confused by and scared of. Their protective instincts didn’t always serve me well, but they also wrapped me in love. Your words remind me to be kind to them, and our history, and to be grateful for the love I received. You’re brave to speak out loud the things you regret, and work to move on from those things. I will do the same, and will be kind, and will share when appropriate, because you really don’t know whose life you will touch.
This is wonderful! Thank you for sharing and for offering the added context!
I can’t tell you how much this resonates with me, Wil. I wrote this about a month ago:
“If you are lucky, you eventually become the person you needed to save you when you needed saving.”
My four-year-old son is in preschool and each week he and his classmates have a different job. A few weeks ago he was the “kindness officer” or “kindness leader” or something like that. There were several days he came home from school and told us about how he was kind to his classmates or encouraged them to be kind to others (like if one really wasn’t interested in sharing a toy with another). I’m so proud of this kid.
The way you described where Nice comes from and where Kind comes from was definitely an “Oh, dayum!” moment for me, too. I’d never thought about it that way, but it makes perfect sense. I’m going to share it with my son the next time we talk about kindness, and I’m going to share it with his teacher (who’s great) so she can use it in class.
Once again, your writing has moved me to tears. The sad tears of being so unready for adulthood and pushed into life and afraid and all the mistakes made…and the happy tears of having made it through, still making it through, and the joy i get from knowing a fellow survivor is also surviving, working hard for our 4/5 days and appreciating those pennies of happiness, those flowers we find in the cracks of the sidewalk.
For those of us who cant walk far, a great alternative is the book on bench. I have a little square in my town, and i get a coffee and my book and sit and watch the world go by. Think of the stories and places and people. The book is just a prop. Gets me from a 1 to a 2, and sometimes i get a smile or ” watcha reading?” And theres a 3 right there!
Hey Wil,
It’s funny how this sort of stuff clicks one, or two, or five, or even twenty years after it initially happens. It’s great that you’re sharing your recognition of it, though–maybe it’ll help someone who hasn’t yet figured out what their “guiding star” in life is / could be / should be. And the sooner people realize that having all the shiny rocks in the world, and having the biggest metaphorical dick in the room really doesn’t matter if you’re making other people’s lives shit to get there, well, all the better!
I went to college in 1991 (too young I was 17) and ended up never finishing. Didn’t realize you were so close to me in age. This is a great long piece and I’m happy to have read it this afternoon. My son is only 8 and I hope I’m supportive of him as he gets older – but a good reminder that one statement from a parent or a teacher can have a lasting impact.
Wil, i love Your writing, your honesty and your vulnerability. I adored You as a young girl and respect you as an adult.
I just wanted you to know that I came here from Facebook and read the whole post! As usual, this piece is very well thought out and very relevant to my life right now. Thank you for writing it.
One thing I greatly appreciate about your blog and it’s comments section is just how positive and affirming this community is. I know it’s not perfect here, and your willingness to curate make also play a part, but it’s one of the few websites where I really try to read the comments.
Thank you, Wil, for sharing your wisdom and growth here. You are brilliant, talented, and caring. I’m glad you are able to send some of that in your own direction. Getting over abuse is the work of a lifetime, but that doesn’t mean we don’t get continuously better along the way.
I’m with the “Oh damn” kid. I never had a good way to differentiate Nice and Kind even though I know they are different things. That is a most excellent purpose list and I bet at least a few of those kids remember it.
I remember that blog. I cried when I saw it because I had to overcome bullying from age 6 to 14 (first “cooties”, then “butterball”, “weeping willow”, etc.). But somehow I found that I had worth when I got the courage to try out for first a High School comedy and get a small part, then as Alma Hix in “The Music Man”. Suddenly not only did I know I had guts, but other people and teachers knew I had value. I still work on that feeling of “You are enough, you are so enough” (courtesy of Sierra Boggess) but you’re never too old to find that out. Thank you, Wil, for keeping on that path.
Self Evolution. I have been trying affirmations, and I’m (all the good adjectives) that it actually worked for me. I learned it from, Tik Tok, of all places. I always liked your saying, “Don’t be a D” and I like saying” #Kindness4theWin” and “Walk the Good Path” to the youngins. Being the Person I needed, makes so much sense. I’m 50, a Grandmother, and that “helpful” kind neighbor who cares about my family n neighbors having food, medical care and someone to lean on. I wish I’d had access to this knowledge at 15, life would have been so much better. Keep up the good Works. 🙂
Thank you.
I also came over from Facebook. I don’t often remember to visit your blog, but cross-posting lets me know when there’s something new.
Your journey and your openness about mental health have helped me on my own journey.
I think I commented on your blog when you wrote about your awful GenCon experience some years ago, trying to undo the harm of your Tabletop “friend.” I was trying out a game demo when you stopped by the same booth. You were obviously talking business, so I didn’t fangirl all over you. I just paused and turned to watch (and carefully NOT listen).
(I also wasn’t yet on medication for my own anxiety at that time. I’m always overly self-conscious about meeting my heroes.)
I want to remind you that just seeing you there, in person, made my entire weekend. I almost wish that I had approached you, so that maybe my fangirling could have improved your weekend.
As a parent, I’ve made lots of mistakes with my kids (especially my son, who is so much like me it’s scary), but I want to focus on one thing I think I’m doing right, and it involves my daughter.
As a girl, my own awkwardness and self-consciousness inhibited a lot of my behavior; the expectations of my parents for me to not be childish or “act stupid” did a lot to stifle the rest. I’ve just never been someone to act out or be loud, for fear of embarrassing myself (or my family). At 43, I still wrestle with it.
My daughter is so much freer and braver than me, and I don’t know how much is her being like her dad, and how much is my influence in encouraging her to be that way, but she is so much more than I ever was. She dances where people can see, see sings (even joined a chorus class!), she laughs loudly, and she TALKS. I’ve tried so hard to make sure she’s comfortable telling me what’s going on, what she needs, how she feels—I know I don’t get all of it, she is a teenager after all—but she is so much more comfortable than I ever was, and it makes me happy. I’m trying to raise a confident female without knowing how to be one, and I have so much hope for her.
I’m not a Trek fan and so never saw your work on there. I found you via social media and relate very much as a person with depression, anxiety, and PTSD. You are a gift to the world, and I thank you for using your voice and your platform for good. Also, I suspect that you’ve already discovered her work, but if not: you mentioning that you wanted to learn more about Reconstruction leads me to suggest looking into the amazing work of historian Heather Cox Richardson. She writes an almost-daily letter about the day’s US political news in a way that gives it historical context, and she does twice-weekly videos and has a podcast. She has written one or more books about the Reconstruction era. Be well.
You still could go to college, if you want to, Wil. It’s never too late. We can always learn.
I teach first-year composition at a college, and my favorite class to teach is the one for struggling and at-risk writers. I use your “Fireworks” essay when I teach them personal essays because you do such a beautiful job of conveying emotion through description. “Fireworks” clicks with them as a model in a way that other essays I have tried haven’t. I appreciate that you keep that piece on here and continue to share your writing.
This means so much to me. Thank you for allowing me the privilege of being part of your students’ stories.
And thank you for being a teacher.
I’ve only recently started following you and it is very clear that you are my people! Thank you for sharing these- I’m trying to be that person for myself and to help my teenage daughters develop the internal compass to navigate the bits of life where I got really lost. Your list really articulates what I am striving for. Thank you!.
I remember the original posts, and I have used the kindness vs being nice description often in my life and will continue to do so.
Wil, another thought-provoking gut-level piece of your heart! GOD, I love how you write! I have struggled with “not good enough” my whole life (I am 60 now) and it’s taken years of counseling to learn how to be the person I needed as a child. Wow. Dr. Gabor Mate’s work on childhood trauma has helped me tremendously! Teachers all around us – you are one of mine!
I don’t really get into reading long articles about people’s lives and philosophies and their life experiences and what they learned from all of it, and blah, blah, blah, because I have my own. But this article was written so well and was so right, although it reasserted what I think most of us older folks have heard and really already understood, made an impact on me and helped re-assert certain things I’ve been doing. I think it was the part about the difference between being nice and being kind that made me glad I read this. I didn’t really know the difference between the two really, like some of those high school kids didn’t. I really learned something truly valuable from this article. I’m glad you found writing as a career. You’re really good at it, and your kindness could be felt through the whole article.
Thank you so much for this. I always enjoy your writing, and this one really hit home for me. I am someone who, whatever I am doing, have always been very driven and determined to do it to the fullest extent of my capabilities. While to many this might sound like a good thing, it has recently led me to a diagnosis of anxiety, because I can’t keep up with my demands on myself. I am a mother of two incredible 11 year-olds, and feel this drive to be the BEST mom. This “mom” somehow magically strikes a perfect balance between being fully present for her children, but also demonstrates an excellent work ethic, while volunteering in her community, making homemade meals and baked goods in order to feed her children wholesome food, and exercises regularly. The reality is that as an elementary school teacher during a pandemic, I come home exhausted every day, try to steal some moments with my kids but end up feeling distant because of all of the things on my mind, spend much of my evening marking or planning lessons and spend NO time on my own physical or mental health.
(Yes, I’m in counselling, and am working on this because I know it’s unhealthy)
Anyway, I have recently (you and I are the same age) begun to realize that I can’t wait for someone else to come and look after me. I need to do that for myself; I need to be that person for me. I need to listen to AND FOLLOW the good advice that I would give to a friend that I saw behaving like I am. I also need to realize that giving 100% to EVERY aspect of one’s life is a mathematical impossibility. My kids deserve a 100% mom, because I’m the only one they’ve got. The only way I can do that is to also take care of myself, so that the mom they’ve got is actually present in their lives. Applying that heart-kindness to myself is the first step in being the parent I strive to be.
TL:DR – Thanks; I needed that.
As someone with several major anxiety disorders and a bad/non-existent family life, I tend to be able to relate to the things you say. What you wrote here hit me especially hard. I come from a poor family and none before me went to college, it’s my dream to finish my psychology degree and become that person I and many others needed but never had. But I was never able to finish due to some bureaucracy with my grants that forced me to take out loans I couldn’t afford (when the overall grant money surpassed what I owed but couldn’t be used for that semester for some reason). It’s a long story, but the short is 5 thousand or so dollars are keeping me from that dream. I work 10 hour days in bad conditions just to survive paycheck to paycheck. I can’t get a better job because I didn’t finish my degree (not for lack of applying). My loans are tiny compared to most people but I can’t even do anything about them no matter how hard I work because the system isn’t built for poor people. It eats away anything I try to save. But your post is inspiring for me. I don’t really know what I can do but at the very least I’m not going to give up. Thank you.
As someone with several major anxiety disorders and a bad/non-existent family life, I tend to be able to relate to the things you say. What you wrote here hit me especially hard. I come from a poor family and none before me went to college, it’s my dream to finish my psychology degree and become that person I and many others needed but never had. But I was never able to finish due to some bureaucracy with my grants that forced me to take out loans I couldn’t afford (when the overall grant money surpassed what I owed but couldn’t be used for that semester for some reason). It’s a long story, but the short is 5 thousand or so dollars are keeping me from that dream. I work 10 hour days in bad conditions just to survive paycheck to paycheck. I can’t get a better job because I didn’t finish my degree (not for lack of applying). My loans are tiny compared to most people but I can’t even do anything about them no matter how hard I work because the system isn’t built for poor people. It eats away anything I try to save. But your post is inspiring for me. I don’t really know what I can do but at the very least I’m not going to give up. Thank you.
Thanks Wil, I needed to hear this today. Going through some big changes right now and am being challenged more than I have in years. Your list of five things really helped, especially #3.
I mainly wanted to do my “Same” from all the others that needed over from Facebook. Reading the entry reminds me –
When I used to have. Mini v. Full of kids (mine no others) I used to have a bumper sticker that said “be kind”. I put it in my rear window, and on the reverse side of that sticker, on the inside if the window, was the same sticker. It was reminder, every times a day for me, that I would see it in my rear view mirror. That the road, or that moment in life, wasn’t about me and my journey, but the road we are all on together. That my need to maintain my spot on the road wasn’t more important than someone else’s need to merge into mine.
I posted this in the wrong place originally. I’m a n00b.
I came to a recent post of yours on Facebook to share this book with you. I have not read it but wondered if you have. and, if not, it might be helpful.
“The Highly Sensitive Person’s Guide to Dealing with Toxic People: How to Reclaim Your Power from Narcissists and Other Manipulators,” by Shahida Arabi (2020, New Harbinger).
I do not know if I am ready to read it. I am 45 and am just realizing that I attract bullies and I am trying to understand why.
That said, I love this post. Your statement on kindness reminded me of Last Midnight from Into the Woods. The witch wants to sacrifice Jack to the giant in order to save the town, which the townspeople refuse to do.
“You’re so nice. You’re not good, you’re not bad, you’re just nice. I’m not good, I’m not nice, I’m just right. I’m the witch. You’re the world.”
I am not generally a nice person, except when greeting a human customer. I am a dog groomer. I am KIND to the dogs. I am trying to learn to be kind to humans. I don’t really understand yet, but I thank you deeply for sharing your knowledge.
-Amy
By the way, I read your blog even before you moved to wilweaton.net . You replied to a couple of my comments, not many. I feel that I may have insulted you about your appearance on CSI. I’m sorry if I did. Once I joined Facebook, I lost track of you. I don’t use Twitter, so I missed those years. It sounds like it was a good thing I missed it, and Twitter was cruel to you.
I have learned a lot about myself since you started writing on Facebook for real.
Thank you, you’re a frood.
Oh, I feel so much the desire to want to be loved and accepted by a parent. I’m still struggling to find out who I really am (at 51) and it helps to be reminded that I am enough just the way I am.
SInce you expressed in interest in the American Civl War and Reconstruction, I thought of two things that might interest you. The first is Not Your Momma’s History which is a project by a woman named Cheney MckKnight. She’s a black reenactor who in addition to giving lectures also has a series of YouTube videos about enslaved and free people of color. http://www.notyourmommashistory.com/. The second is a fictional pair of books by Justina Ireland. Dread Nation and Deathless Divide is a zombie apocalypse set at the end of the Civil War. https://www.monstercomplex.com/blog/zombie-interview-ireland-the-things-that-scare-people-are-always-the-most-interesting-to-write-about
Thank you, Wil, for giving me this today. I honestly don’t know much about your acting career, but as a human being and writer, you are CRUSHING it! Stay kind, and I will too.
Thank you for sharing this, Wil. I don’t do FB, or Instagram, and your putting things here is nice. I do Discord, though – I’ll try to see if there’s something there for me to follow… but for now, I think I’ll go for a walk with the dog. I’m a bit meh today. And you’re right. It helps. Also, thank you for the rules. I try. Massive (distanced) hugs.
Thank you, Wil. I always enjoy reading whatever you kindly share with us. I have the greatest admiration for you!
Wil, sir, thank you for writing and posting this article. I’m saddened for you for the pain you have suffered and the doubt you have felt. Please know the you are enough. Indeed, you are a true leader. Again, thank you.
You inspire people every day, in small and large ways, and I hope somewhere in your heart there’s a part of you that remembers that and shines a little light even when things seem dark. You inspired me to start writing again after a long dry spell with a post you wrote about watching a meteor shower with Anne, how it made you feel small, but loved. It inspired me to think about love, stars, and meaning. I shared the poem with you at a convention a few years back, but I’d like to share it again, because I think it reminds us how we can impose meaning on observations, and create something positive from it:
You know that feeling,
when Anne rested her head
against your chest?
That moment, that meaning
is timeless and infinite,
more rare than meteors or planets.
Like the constellations, it exists
because we join things that are separate,
and create meaning out of dreams.
We are not small,
because we have in us such things
as even the stars might envy.
There are large swathes of this that I want to put up on billboards, or have calligraphed and illuminated and hung on my wall.
I appreciate your writing and sharing so much Will. Thank you. Things I needed to remember and acknowledge.