Thinking about Sleeping
Rape: The Scourge of Our Time

“I Like Your Necklace”

The other day the “compliment clothing instinct” peeked out its pretty head. In the morning, as I walked by her, I blurted out to a student that I liked her ring. I couldn’t help it—it was so big, so obvious, so worthy of compliment; teacher-student relationship be damned—the girl has taste. It was a three-inch silver disc with intricate designs on it: quite the finger shield. A ring to be noticed—and complimented.

Then later when I was walking around the supermarket, a woman who almost walked into me (or did I almost walk into her?) complimented me on my necklace. As I said “thank you,” I reached for my neck to feel which necklace I was wearing. It was the necklace that I bought after my year of wearing no jewelry after father passed away.

And the next day I complimented a colleague on how lovely she looked. And she did the thank you blush and took the back straight-chest out stance.

Even when I tell my daughter, who doesn’t much like my voice or the words that come out of my mouth, how pretty she looks, I get a shy thank you and a tinge of blush to her beautiful cheeks.

Oh, how lovely it is to give and receive. Forget the lists. Forget the stores. Forget the gift cards. Give the gift of a compliment.



It makes me wonder why some people are so stingy with compliments as if they somehow would be diminished by giving one to someone else. How can it ever be wrong to give someone a compliment?

There's a reason the phrase is "give a compliment." For the recipient, it is a gift.


I think you hit it when you said that they think they will be diminished--don't you think that people's lack of self-confidence and/or overbearing ego make it hard for them to step out and acknowledge the good in others?


I do. Exactly. There's that ego again. If only we could all get out from under our egos. (Some people have a greater mountain to climb than others.)


Ego climbing. I like that.

Well, there's not much optimism here. Even Aristotle talked of hubris; he might have defined it as too much pride, but where the heck does that come from if not the mountainous ego.

Why so many built-in complications in this story of life?

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