thankfully yours

It’s 1:30am on Friday, the day after Thanksgiving.

It’s been 12 days since I’ve written to you, and it feels like a small lifetime has passed by.

Since we last touched each other’s lives, I have run the production of a groundbreaking short-form reality/dating show where I had the chance to create a dangerous yet entertaining path for one woman to find love, and I enjoyed the honor of getting to deliver nine workshops on listening. Eight of them were in Nebraska. One of them was on the biggest stage I’ve stood on to date.

The past few weeks have been full of frenetic energy, and once again, I’ve neglected the daily part of this daily email.

So I’m taking this reflective moment, as my brother snores in the hotel bed next to mine, to write to thank you for being part of my life.

I started this journey a little over four years ago listening to a stranger in a park about how a person was squatting in her house and causing her anguish that she couldn’t share with others.

When I conferred with my dad, the writer, in preparation for my series of speeches this month, I struggled to place my story as motivational.

I listen to other people’s problems, but I don’t solve them.
Listening isn’t enough, I argue.
Action is better, I say.

And yet, I find, after the speeches, when people come up to me and share heavy things, there is a relief that they aren’t carrying them alone anymore. That action can be taken from here. That even giving someone their first chance to say, “I’m not okay,” is a humongous gift.

If you have a chance to spend this weekend with people you care about, this is my call out to you: Build the bridge. Use it.

If you are carrying something, share it.
If you have capacity for someone else, let them know.
Frame it with gratitude.

Send the extra text to someone thanking them for being in your life.
Tell them what you appreciate about them.
Make it a practice.

More to come,
Orly