Holidays have always been a “how much do you love me” contest. I could never buy the right present or do the right thing. And if I did, I just didn’t do enough of it. There was always a passive aggressive undertone that went with the receipt of the gift.

Especially bad were the Hallmark holidays — Valentine’s Day, Sweetest Day, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day.

“At least you have a Mother to call…”

“Father’s Day is not about what you want, it is about your kids having a day for you…”

“I really wanted the brown one. I swear you don’t listen when I talk to you…”

Oh, yeah. Happy Mother’s Day everybody.

I have a friend who is working through a NEEDS vs. WANTS chart.

I have a simpler chart: NEED nothing.

When you admit to yourself and others that you NEED something, that is the moment you can’t live without it and others can take it from you. Sex, money, power, clothes, homes, love, companionship, dignity, food — all stuff you can live without. All stuff that you may want, but never need.

Treasure these things when you have them, but never need them.

I’m still working on air. That apparently will never be a want.

Maybe.

Through a string of comedic errors and serendipity, I found myself in Times Square on Wednesday morning, eating a bagel and drinking a small coffee from a street cart. Next to me on the park bench was my son whom I had not seen for several months.

I’m almost never in Times Square. It is a loud, noisy “tourist” spot. I have had some interesting past couple of months where I felt pushed or pulled along against my will and pace. It has caused a lot of internal rage and resentment.

But in that moment, sitting on the bench with all this activity buzzing around me, enjoying a cup of coffee in silence with my son beside me, I realized that I can control the speed at which I want to move. I don’t need to keep up with a pack if I don’t want to. The pack is ferocious and never satisfied.

There will always be disasters and crises, drama and angst. The to do list will never be completed. The inbox will never be empty. I think the trick to serenity is to choose to be an island of calm, regardless of what chaos is happening around you.

And move at your own speed.

“Work/Life Balance” was invented by someone who did not understand your passion and wanted to control you. You can control people by paying them or guilting them. Either is immoral.

Which of us would have told Picasso to paint less, Da Vinci to quit inventing sh*t or Thoreau to give it a rest?

“Here, let me help you with that,” I heard to my left as I was waiting for some testing at the doctor’s office. I glanced over to an older gentleman who was trying to tie his shoe that has come undone. His wife had jumped in to tie his shoe for him.

Our eyes met briefly before he turned his head, silently resigned to the public indignity of having someone else tie his own shoes for him. What made it worse was that he was forced to accept it from someone whom he should be trusting would never inflict that embarrassment on him.

Throughout the drive home, I could not shake this man’s eyes from my own mind’s eye. In a moment, he showed anger, shame and then resignation as he stared off into the distance. He knew I knew what he was thinking and feeling and he didn’t want to share that with me.

What the old man needed from his wife was patience while he tied his own shoe and the resolve to allow him the dignity of self-reliance — regardless of how long that took — even if the nurse came in and tried to rush him along for his testing. While I’m sure in her mind she was helping him, she was really only helping herself cope with her own annoyance at having to wait for him to tie his shoe. To her, the issue was hurrying the process of getting him into his medical testing appointment on time.

Sometimes all we need to help another is the patience and strength to just be there as he struggles through helping himself.

“Quit solving other peoples’ problems,” my son told me rather exasperatedly.

And he was right. I was trying to find a solution to something that was not mine to solve.

It was hard to let go, but I did. And I felt lighter

The Secret Sharer is a short story by Joseph Conrad written as a diversion while writing a larger novel. Basically, it is first-person account by a ship captain who has been put in charge of a boat with a seasoned crew who does not yet trust him. On his first night, he is approached by a man swimming in the water, allegedly from a neighboring ship where he is accused of murder. The captain hides his secret sharer in his cabin as he recovers and then helps him slip away to shore. It is only about 40-50 pages long depending on the version, but worth the read many times over.

This blog is my secret sharer. Only two people in the world know my true identity and we whisper to each other across the interwebs.

I like to think we do anyway. It makes a great story.

But it’s hard to tell the whispers apart from the voice in my head.

I wonder how many others out there have blogs that are secret sharers? I’ll bet we’re not as alone as we think we are.