One of the things I like best about my relationship with Kelly is the sheer number of "Thank you's" that I hear in our house (and in the garden, and in the studio). The other day, I was standing in the backyard, pondering the growing corn, when Kelly stopped, looked at me and said, "Thank you for bringing so much green into my life and our world." I was a little taken aback. I plant things on the porch and backyard because it feeds my soul, it connects me to my father and grandfather, and because it keeps the Covid despair just ever-so-slightly at bay. I am not digging and moving rocks out of any obligation or duty in our relationship.
 
But Kelly's real, heartfelt gratitude had a big impact on me. I felt seen. My work felt seen and appreciated. Not that I needed the external validation, but it felt great and it made me lean in toward Kelly, emotionally and physically.
 
Without ever talking about it, Kelly and I seem to have agreed to offer far more gratitude than correction, criticism, or even requests. We thank each other for everyday activities like emptying the dishwasher or doing the laundry, tasks that are so regular and mundane one could easily take them for granted. We thank each other for important behaviors. “Thank you for being so responsible with the bills.” “Thank you for always caring for the cats.” And, critically, we thank each other for courage and vulnerability. “Thank you for telling me you felt scared.” “Thank you for sitting and listening to me.” 
 
 And the beauty of offering frequent gratitude is how it affects both the giver and receiver, knitting us each tighter into supportive relationships. The receiver of the “Thank you” gets validation, acknowledgement, and a bit of motivation to keep at it. The giver of the “Thank you” gets to live in gratitude, gets a moment to see the abundance or ease or safety in the house anew, afresh. 
 
There are lots of things to complain about in this house. I am not easy to live with, I am sure. And I have a few beefs with how Kelly does things. But we choose to live in “Thank you.” And that choice, repeated several times a day, makes the little quibbles fade. Plus, I just much prefer to hear gratitude rather than complaints come out of my mouth. Like Stasia Rivera says, “Vote for the person you want to be.” I vote for grateful and appreciative. 
 
Are there things or people in your life that you would like to thank more?

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"He's a pussy little bitch!"

"Sir, I have to ask you to leave. Have a nice day."

Could the clash between cultures, between responsibility, and hyper-individualism be any clearer. But what really stands out for me is the stark clash between visions and versions of masculinity.  

One the one hand Customer Kevin clearly represents toxic or man-box masculinity. He seems to take great pleasure in bucking the system, showing the world through his Instagram feed that he will not obey authority. That refusal to knuckle under and an insistence on independence is baked into Western Culture and traditional manhood. And that independence is not necessarily a bad thing. Shaking up staid culture is part of the Hero's Journey and seems to be a part of psychological individuation.

But Customer Kevin displays the toxic and immature version of independent manhood by

1. Picking the wrong battle. Not all crises call for rebellion. Some call for thoughtful, patient, and collective action. But, when you're in the man box, operating out of the old model of strength, all you've got is a hammer. You've been told that hammers are the only tool for real men and any other tool is for sissies. 
2. Picking the wrong target. Rebellion and non-compliance is useful, like I said, for overturning hide-bound or unjust systems and institutions like Jim Crow, the Vietnam War, and, well, the patriarchy. Costco is a big capitalist entity but it is famous for treating and paying it's employees very well and having great benefits. Also, Costco made it clear it was requiring masks for the safety of its employees. It's hard to make a case for a just battle here. 
3. Personalizing  the conflict. Rebellion is only useful when it's directed at institutions. Picking a fight with an employee and attempting to intimidate him is classic toxic manhood.  Kevin's immature anger is directed, ultimately at Tison, not at the policy or the institution he claims is taking away his freedom. Like a school-yard bully looking to upgrade his status, Kevin went after an individual he thought he could defeat and confer glory and attention upon himself.

Tison represents another kind of masculinity. He is open, even engaging with the Instagram audience rather than hiding behind sunglasses. He remains calm and respectful. He never reverts to name calling. He is a confident warrior, embedded in an (relatively) just and healthy organization. He engages nonviolently with Kevin motivated not out of immature umbrage but out of a desire to uphold a rule that he believes will protect others. His strength comes from care and solidarity and he walks away victorious with the spoils - a cart full of good that Kevin was trying to buy. 

​I hope Tison's version of masculinity wins all our coming battles. 

"Have a nice day."

"I'm boycotting [x] for making me wear a mask!"

"Masks take away my freedom. Freedom is more important that anything."

"Masks are for lemmings!"

"Masks are for cowards, pussies, cucks, etc."

​The anti-mask comments on some posts are so livid and visceral, I can almost feel the spittle and froth through my screen. Something deep is getting triggered. Those who defend, vehemently, their "right" to flout common sense, community safety, and biological truth, are exerting themselves through the old, shallow, hierarchical model of strength. The old strength is the one characterized by:

• Power Over
• Win-lose
• Oppression
• Repression

The old strength insists that we are toughest, safest, and most likely to survive when we are wielding singular, individual power over someone else. It tells us that we are winning only when we can see someone else losing. And because it creates systems to perpetuate the win-lose scenarios, it keeps it's users hyper wary of their position in the hierarchy, every vigilant for that first slip down a rung. 

For those of us who understand that strength is really about fostering collaborative power and creating win-win solutions, putting on a mask is an expression of solidarity, concern, and even love. 

For those stuck in that old paradigm of strength, being told what to do and acceding to that demand is knuckling under to power and losing a win-lose contest and therefore allowing themselves to slip into the oppressed class. So, of course they fight and froth at the notion.  Any attempt to coerce, convince, or mandate their actions are going to be met with more hostility and spittle because they believe they are locked in an existential battle for power and survival, not a debate over public health best practices. 

Those of us who are able to value the community and collective power/safety, tend to wear masks without too much fuss. I know I feel caring, and connected to my community when I wear a mask. I am putting it on to protect others. I am showing my steadiness and my ability to make a tiny sacrifice for those around me. I feel upright and strong. 

And, yes, because I am acting in accordance with my value system, I feel a little righteous about my decision. Maybe I even act a little righteous or condescending about my choice. But there can be no true case made for both-sider-ism. Both choices are not equally valid. Wearing a mask protects others, will help prevent death, and actually speed the re-opening of businesses and institutions. 

​In times of collective danger, collective action is necessary. Unfortunately, those operating under the old paradigm of strength are ever fearful of being told what to do lest they become one of the oppressed. Their attempts to protect themselves from this fate endanger us all. 

I don't know, really, how to help the anti-maskers stand-down from their self-protective position. They crave power and freedom when self-sacrifice and community solidarity are called for. I don't know how to reach across the paradigm divide. Maybe some of you reading this post have ideas. I'd love to hear them. 

You can hear more about my own personal journey from Old Strength to New Strength in my latest TEDx talk.