I just read one of what will be many articles about gifts and gift giving this year. It’s about the 5 do’s and don’ts of “regifting” – the practice of giving someone else a gift someone gave you. There are many reasons for regifting – wrong size, you hate the gift, you’re cheap, you’re broke, you’re saving for a new car and aren’t doing Christmas this year, you have a better version or model of the gift, you read the book, you’re allergic to processed food, you haven’t eaten canned vegetables since your grandmother died of food poisoning from home canned pickles. Whatever. I thnk regifting is something people do for practical reasons as well as selfish or insensitive ones. I wonder if regifting is first and foremost about GIFTS, and not so much about giving.

Several years ago I received a regifted book from the sister of a friend whom I admired and really liked. It was a cookbook, an expensive, beautiful book and one I would have never bought myself, but might have enjoyed looking at in a bookstore. It wasn’t really me, I cook, but am not a passionate cook, but I didn’t think much of it. I was surprised she bought me a gift at all.

When I got home I opened the book and started reading, and that’s when I saw the personalized inscription to her from the person who gave it to her three years prior. The inscription had been erased, but was still easily visible. Knowing how much time she spent shopping for her children and other friends and family members and the lengths she went to to ensure that they all received very personal gifts with meaning from her – I felt embarrassed that she obviously felt obligated to give me something. If she had handed me the book and said, “I have this cookbook I don’t use,” or “I don’t bake,” but _____ gave it to me and I hate to see it gather dust on a shelf because I know you love to bake,” I wouldn’t have minded at all! It wasn’t the gift. It was the obvious intention – or lack of attention – that hurt. I later gave the book to the Goodwill. What I learned was that there wasn’t really a friendship there. It became obvious after that – but it took that incident for me to see the warning flags. She was about appearances and doing the right thing. That’s fine – for her, but that’s not the kind of friend I like to hang with. It’s not just acquaintances.

My mother once gave everyone beautiful traveling jewelery boxes for Christmas one year. They were small padded leather cases perfect for taking jewelry with you on a trip. I was a teenager – 15 years old. So I went with her as she took her gifts to her friends and sat in the background as they exchanged and opened gifts. I carried the packages and helped her wrap. She too went to great lengths to pick out the right colors and designs for everyone and as everyone opened their gifts there was a lot of excitement from the recipients. She had tucked a pair of earrings, or a small necklace in each one for an extra surprise.

Christmas Eve when I opened my gift, instead of the same beautiful case I’d seen her give her friends, there was a horrid pink and brown vinyl floral box for me. It wasn’t the colors or patterns I would have ever picked and she knew it. It was ugly. No doubt about it. It was stained, sticky – obviously had been at the bottom of a box or sale bin for sometime – the sort of item no one buys. There was a tear on one side and it didn’t close properly. The sale sticker, with several reductions marked on it, was still on the bottom. As I looked at it and tears welled up in my eyes she said, “It was the ugliest one they had, but I didn’t have time to get you anything else. You’ll just have to live with it.”She hadn’t planned on giving me the box but had a set number in her head. She had given my brother “X” number of things and thought she had to do the same for me, even if they weren’t gifts that mattered. They were things. That is the only thing I remember her giving me for Christmas ever.

My parents are the reason I don’t care much for Christmas and why I’m so big on love being the motivation behind giving. I held onto it for a while, to remind myself I didn’t dream it – then I ultimately threw it away. I don’t have anything my mother ever gave me because she never gave me anything that meant anything to her, or to me. Later, when I was older, I threw a Christmas for her and gave her everything I knew she would love. And she did – for about a day. Then she complained about it all, and I think later gave most of it away – regifting everything but the white fleece cape which she wore that day and rarely again. I realized then that it wasn’t about gifts, it was about my mother’s inability to give or to receive love.

The best gift I ever received was a hand knit wool cap from a formerly homeless woman. She knit caps for anyone who asked – no charge. She asked me what size my head was and what colors I liked. I told her and a month later I got my cap in the mail. I have it to this day. She never met me, heard of me only online and knew I was living in my van in Denver and was cold at night and couldn’t afford a good warm cap. When the Bible talks about “doing it for the least of these” and the value of even a cup of cold water given in love, I think of this woman. That is what Christ meant when He said, “Do unto others…”

I have received expensive gifts, money, trips and all kinds of items, and yet among the most precious gifts I have ever received are the shared meals – a baloney sandwich from a co-worker who was as broke as I – an unexpected thank you card with a McDonalds gift card for $5 worth of food from a teenager I helped with something one year (he tracked me down and left the card on my doorstep to say “Thank you” for some small thing I’d said or done for him that meant a lot to him). When people say, “It’s the thought that counts,” that’s what they’re talking about. A thought, a motivation to give from love. Giving should be an act of love, of connection – not a bribe, or something we do because it’s expected.

Giving simply because everyone else is doesn’t feel authentic. But then, Christmas doesn’t always feel so authentic to me either. Giving from the heart isn’t about the gift itself. The gift is a vehicle for the emotion. A friend of mine – someone I’ve never met, but whom I admire and like and interact with online, send me an unexpected package this month. She told me she was sending me a copy of her book – which I looked forward to with great pleasure….the unexpected surprise was along with the book she tucked in a pound of the most fantastic coffee, a magnet with several small Linchpins on it she had made, and an itunes card – and the sweetest, most personal note I’ve received in quite a while. It was like Christmas in a box for me.

It made my day. It wasn’t the gifts – but the thought and care that went into them. I drink one cup of coffee a day – sometimes two if it’s a long day. I’m new to coffee drinking (just been drinking sporadically for about a year) and have no clue what makes great coffee, but thanks to Christina, now I do!! It’s Jacobs/Kronung – a German coffee…and it’s so smooth and flavorful that I truly love sitting down with a cup and just sipping it. I can’t think of the last time someone really took time to put into expressing themselves, or their appreciation or connection so well. And Christina did. Her book, “I am that I am” is a photo/text motivational book for mothers. She gives from her heart. She gives as Christians are commanded to – “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” The book, the exchange, was all a delight. It made/makes my heart sing to connect with people that way.

In a season where people are focused on gifts, I think the focus on giving and why we give, is lost. If there is someone in your life that you love, that means a lot to you, that has helped, inspired or moved you in some way – let Christmas be a reminder to you to reach out and let them know how you feel. Don’t give because it’s expected. Give because it allows you to be vulnerable, to be real, to let someone know you care. Your gift doesn’t have to be expensive. It just has to be real.

If you want to regift this year that’s up to you. You have your reasons, but think about why you’re giving, not what you’re giving. A gift of coffee, of tea, of home baked cookies, of fudge, of a homemade Christmas ornament or even a handwritten letter detailing all the reasons the person means so much to you – are gifts people will remember. I wish you all a wonderful season with gifts from the hearts of the people you love.

There are only a few thing you need to know about getting more out of the ordinary things around you:

Quit thinking about what something was designed or purposed to do. Look at it as though you didn’t know what it was and were seeing it for the first time. Kids do this all the time. It’s why they’re so creative!

Explore. Test. Fail. Explore more.

Decide if YOU like it, don’t worry about what others think about it. If it works for you then trust me, there are thousands or millions of others who will like it too. They’ll find you or you’ll find them!

There is no ultimate judge sitting around with a hammer waiting to hit you or “approve” or “disapprove” of the innovations you find or create. “They” are only a few people – not the world. Don’t let others judgmental attitudes stop you from creating. Your creation doesn’t have to be immediately and obviously huge and life or world changing. It can simply be a more remarkable way of using a musical instrument, or cooking a meal, or sewing a quilt or decorating. But potential – no matter how small – does change the world.

If you forget these rules, watch the video again. Where’s the potential around you?

Seth writes, “We say we want one thing, then we do another. We say we want to be successful but we sabotage the job interview. We say we want a product to come to market, but we sandbag the shipping schedule. We say we want to be thin but we eat too much. We say we want to be smart but we skip class or don’t read that book the boss lent us.

The contradictions never end. When someone shows up and acts without contradiction, we’re amazed. When an athlete just does the sport, or when a writer just writes the words, we can’t help but watch, astonished at the purity of their actions. Why is it so difficult to do what we say we’re going to do? The lizard brain.”

Martha Beck had the same questions. So did Stephen Pressfield. But Martha takes a different approach – one that says the Lizard is our friend (and I truly believe that). The Lizard, she explains, protects our essential self – keeping us from being successful cubicle monkeys and clinging to dead-end jobs. The Lizard, exists not simply to screw up our lives, but to point us away from mediocrity and towards Nirvana. If we are happy wearing Poodle skirts, eating funnel cakes and dating a guy with a mullet, our Lizard will indeed sabotage that polyester slack suit, fresh produce and five veggies a day and the Marine hunk with the buzz cut.

When we begin to see the Lizard as a brain with access to our true being, as the gate keeper to happiness, not the reptile with the party pooping agenda, we begin to understand why it’s really there. Men call it “resistance,” and women call it “possibility.”

Seth writes, “The resistance grows in strength as we get closer to shipping, as we get closer to an insight, as we get closer to the truth of what we really want. That’s because the lizard hates change and achievement and risk.”

Martha sees the “resistance” not as a force that hates change and achievement and risk, but as a compass that shows us what we really love. When Stephen Pressfield encountered resistance as a major force in his life he was living in a Chevy Van with his cat. (Sound familiar?) He was driving trucks and doing all sorts of menial jobs to avoid doing the thing his soul wanted to do – WRITE. (If I could find the essay he wrote about resistance I’d post it here….if you find it, please do. I’ll link to it.) I read that and it struck me that I was doing the same thing….so I began studying the lizard brain in depth.

Seth writes, “The lizard is a physical part of your brain, the pre-historic lump near the brain stem that is responsible for fear and rage and reproductive drive. Why did the chicken cross the road? Because her lizard brain told her to.” And that is SO lizard brain!! He’s right. The lizard brain is where fear and rage and reproductive drive originate because the lizard brain’s job is to see, record and document patterns that put our lives at risk. The lizard brain exists not to give us hell, but to ensure our survival. When we listen to what it is trying to say (it is, after all the seat of our intuition as well), we survive, but can also thrive!!

Where I will diverge from Seth’s reasoning is in believing that organizations are run by lizard brains. I contend that organizations are run by people who are DENYING THE WISDOM and direction and patterns their lizard brains are trying to share with them. Organizations fear change, risk and balloon popping because past patterns of more failures than successes through this behavior indicate that NOT changing, risking and balloon popping is a better alternative. That is ALL the lizard brain is doing – prodding us with statistics of our experience. Our lizard is a data base of every experience we’ve ever had – good or bad. If risk and balloon popping brought you success early on – guess what? That’s what your Lizard is going to push. Because it works for you. That’s all it does. If you don’t know how to read a spread sheet or interpret data, you probably won’t understand how valuable the lizard is. Ever since you were born that part of your brain has been cataloging information into “safe and fun” or “Painful and scary” and prodding you when you encountered similar situations. From the type of food you like, to whether you’re a breast, leg or ass man, the lizard has controlled it all. But let’s go back to the Lizard’s alarm when faced with a new situation.

IF, at this stage of the lizard’s input you simply decide NOT to change, NOT to risk, NOT to pop, you quiet the brain and shut down a stream of valuable information. Not a good thing. This is the stage where you can either say, “Ah ha! Risk is bad. Let’s not risk.” Or you can have a sit–down with the lizard. And if you do, and if you listen long enough you might realize your lizard isn’t saying “Don’t risk.” The lizard may actually be saying, “You know, we put Fickle Fred in charge of those last three failures. Let’s talk to Fred and see what really happened. Maybe we can put Agnes on this next venture if Fred can’t really account for what happened.” That’s not an option if you’re trying to shut the brain up. Apple doesn’t shut down its lizards. It buys them espressos and massage chairs and says, “So what do you think we ought to do to then?” You don’t ignore or discount the Lizard, you step back – put the fear on hold and listen and look at the data. It’s not the Lizard you want to quiet. It’s the fear you’re feeling. Remember the progression? Our thoughts create our emotions, our emotions create our actions….So, let the THOUGHTS the lizard is having come up. But press “pause” when the emotions are cued.

We are “fearfully and wonderfully made.” As a child I was gang-raped, drugged, tortured, beaten and abused mentally, emotionally, physically, sexually. Not just once – but over 15 years. My Lizard Brain and Amygdala are the size of apples, not walnuts. Seriously. Research shows that trauma increases the size and action of the amygdala. My lizard brain is fear on steroids. It’s like Godzilla, not the GEICO gecko. My lizard brain is why, when I was a cop, that I could walk into a building and tell you where the bad guy was hiding. I could smell fear and “knew” where the danger was – to the point of pinpointing the physical presence without even seeing it. Psychic abilities are so connected to trauma that psychiatrists and science consider psychic abilities as part of a diagnostic for trauma. I could have, should have by many accounts, be drooling in a strait jacket in a rubber room somewhere. But I learned to press the pause button most (not all) of the time. When the Lizard says, “Hmmm….teen-aged boys in gang colors standing on the corner, run away, run away!” I listen – and cross the street or go down another street. When the Lizard says, “Aaagh! Temporary Employment Agency!! Run away, run away.” I reassure it that it’s just for a month so I can make my bills. I understand, or try to, why the Lizard has its panties all in a wad. Then I deal with the data. Usually. Not always. But usually.

Seth writes, “The amygdala isn’t going away. Your lizard brain is here to stay, and your job is to figure out how to quiet it and ignore it.” Sorry Seth. But I read this today and thought, “Oh no. This is SO NOT the way to deal with the lizard brain at all.”

It’s NOT about quieting it, and certainly NOT about ignoring it. It’s about listening to it and acting on what you learn from it. The lizard brain simply identifies patterns and sends a signal to you telling you that what you’re encountering is not “safe” for SOME reason. If you’re not used to interpreting this signal all you feel/hear is FEAR. So you avoid or resist this THING your Lizard is all wired up about. If you QUIET IT and IGNORE IT you will never learn to understand it. You’ll continue the knee jerk reaction, stuffing it down in your attempt to keep it caged. Yeah. It’s hard work to learn to speak Lizard. But it’s so worth it.

Personally, I’m with Martha Beck on this one. I say give your lizard a name. Sit down and have a cup of tea and a conversation with it. You’d be amazed how articulate and astute it is, given an understanding ear. Why? Because your lizard brain can alert you to patterns, things you didn’t realize you didn’t like. And if you listen, and recognize those patterns, you can CHANGE the resistance, find a new direction, take action, cast off the chains and LIVE.

For instance, if your limbic lights go off when you walk into an office cubicle, or go with your best friend to look at bridesmaid dresses, there’s a message there – usually one that says, “Shit. I hate working in a cubicle. I loathe wearing puffy-arm party dresses in unnatural hues of magenta and lime.” So, instead of ignoring that message, or misinterpreting it, consider whether or not your lizard is saying, “You know, the last six times you’ve worked in an office in a cubicle you screwed things up. You screwed them up because you really don’t like working for the man. You’re going to botch this one too. Let’s start our own business selling t-shirts at rock concerts.” or “You really do look like a fool in those darn bridesmaid dresses. Next time, decline the invitation. We’ll put up with it this one last time, but seriously. Learn to say NO.”

Martha Beck encourages her clients to listen to their inner lizard. It is sabotaging us because it knows what we don’t like and won’t do well at. It is a compass. It is a tool. Embrace it. Listen to it. Heed its alarms and find your true path. You can fight it, or you can understand it. As someone who has spent most of my adult life alternately ignoring, fearing and running from or listening and learning to heed the advice of my lizard, and to understand what it knows, I can assure you….you’re better off making it a friend rather than an enemy.

Here’s what I had/have to say about Patty:

It wasn’t too many of my blog posts in (on Triiibes.com), perhaps the first couple of weeks, that Patty emailed me and said she wanted to get to know me. When I asked her why she said something to the effect of “I know a star when I see one. I think it’d be fun to go along for the ride.”

She was honest, supportive and encouraging, as so many of you are. But she was more than that. She was committed. That, to me is what makes the difference in a great person and a linchpin. She made a decision early on to be with me, to see me and us both really, through to the stars. And she’s hung in there and done that. She nominates me for things and calls quiet subtle attention to me when she meets people that she thinks I’ll benefit from knowing. She is a silent, consistent partner and friend.

When I got the news that I had been selected to speak at TED, she and her husband Ed sat in their living room with me while I screamed, “I’m speaking at TED!! I’m speaking at TED!” for a solid 20 or 30 minutes. And they smiled through the whole thing. My joy was their joy.

When I drove up in Oct. for the first Triiibes event in NYC, I stayed with them and Patty drove us up. She tolerated my “new to the big city” fascination and filming of taxi cabs and cops. She was patient when I stopped to stare at big buildings. She sat with me at Seth’s talk and was, of all the Triiibes members I knew then, a real friend – not just someone I met on Triiibes. Patty and her husband Ed hosted me in their home – regularly. Generously. They didn’t roll their eyes or laugh on those cool nights I chose to sleep in the van with my separation anxiety inflicted Rottweiler. In the South we call that “style and grace.” I think everywhere else they call it “class.”

Patty gave more than encouragement and support. She gave of herself. She shared her own struggles, doubts and successes. She was three dimensional. I’ve never felt like she expected anything in return, although I feel like I’ll never be able to repay her.

Over the next year Patty and Ed offered their spare room or parking lot to both me and my Rottweiler and Patty, who is not “an animal person,” even walked Koko. Koko, who isn’t much of a “people dog” immediately took to her, not barking once at her.

When I decided to lose 100 pounds this year I turned to Patty, who’s lost that and more, for advice. When my tendency is to see the worst in a situation, Patty is there to offer the best scenario and to ask the tough questions that force me to re-evaluate someone’s intent or the way I should handle it.

More than just hospitality, Patty has provided perspective, listening to my whining, hair-brained ideas, to my concerns, outrages, questions and just general “beckiness” and truly cared and worked overtime to find solutions or ways to help me define my dreams. She led a Success Team I was on, she tweeted consistently about each of my successes. When I wailed and cried and struggled with my TED talk, she helped me focus. “Not good enough,” she said to every draft of my speech. “You can do better.” She said this not once, but three times!!! She dared to push me to my limits, to my potential.

She referred clients to me, enabling me to afford to make the money I needed to go to TED. She was the last person I talked to and the first person I called when I returned from TED – because of all the people in my life, Patty “GETS” what it means to be a friend, a supporter, an encourager and a linchpin. And I’m NOT the only person she does this for. She does it for dozens, if not hundreds.

But it wasn’t any of the million brilliant, caring, time intensive labors of love and friendship that make Patty a linchpin. It’s the fact that she saw more in me than my rough edges, quick temper, mouthy opinions, and hairpin spontaneity. Patty saw my heart. She saw my talent yes, but there are lots of talented people here on triiibes. She was one of the few who could look past my temper, and see my pain; look past my fears and see my courage; look past my failures and see my future.

As I’ve watched Patty interaction with others, and read her blog and seen her dedication to her husband, her son, her grandchildren and daughter-in-law I know that all she has done for and with me is NOT just because I might be somebody one day. It’s just Patty’s nature to be this way.

I hope you’ll all understand that while many of you have been there at rough times in my life, Patty has been the lighthouse on the rock, always there, always consistent, always patient. She is amazing. Call her a rockstar, a saint, an angel, the spirit of Triiibes, or whatever you like, but at her core she is a linchpin.

To leave a comment on the Linchpin page on Squidoo go to: http://www.squidoo.com/lensmaster/new_workshop/patty-newbold-assume…