As you may know, I didn’t grow up with either a formal or informal Jewish education. I didn’t go to Hebrew school or celebrate the High Holidays. Until I was a teenager, I thought that Snow White ate the forbidden fruit. I am largely self-taught – a living version of “Everything I Wanted to Know About Jewish Living I Learned after Age 18.” And I am still constantly learning, evolving and growing.

This year, on Yom Kippur, I learned that:

1. I am fine without caffeine until about 3 pm, and then I start to lose my mind.
2. I am inclined to replace the three meals I skipped with ten meals worth of noodle pudding, bagels and ice cream.
3. I am guilty of a sin that I never realized was one, until I read the prayer book closely: the sin of clever cynicism.

What does it mean to be cynical? First of all, it’s not the same as skepticism. Where skeptics are open to having their thinking changed with new and compelling evidence, cynics aren’t. Cynics are distrusting or disparaging of others’ motives; they are contemptuous or pessimistic. The clever part? Thinking they’re being funny about it – especially if most people around them are cynical too. (Tweet this!)

How many of you have seen the famous New Yorker magazine cartoon of a businessman on the phone with the caption: “No, Thursday’s out. How about never—is never good for you?” It’s clever. It’s cynical. And it’s the kind of language and attitude that now permeates far too many of our conversations, whether we’re talking about our community-based organizations (“ ‘They’ know how to find me, especially if I haven’t made my annual pledge yet”), to our colleagues (“Looks like no good deed goes unpunished around here”), family (“I’d agree with you but then we’d both be wrong.”) or politics (too many examples to name!).

I’m cleverly cynical far too often to pretend that the prayer book was written just for other people. I also know that I am not alone in making snarky remarks that demonstrate a mistrust of others’ motives, and then wait for the nods and smiles of my peers that make me feel like what I said was smart and socially acceptable. The sad part is that it IS socially acceptable to be cleverly cynical. (Tweet this!) And whether you are cleverly cynical yourself or just tolerating it by suffering in silence, you’re in it with me.

I don’t know if I can change the clever cynicism of the political landscape or even the organizations that I consult with. But I can change my own outlook. Here are three things I am committed to doing:

• Be more compassionate. When I operate under the assumption that people are doing the best they can with what they have, I cut people more slack, and feel empathetic about their challenges. Lord knows, that’s what I would want people to do for me.
• Be more “pronoid.” Paranoia is when we believe that people are out to harm us, whereas pronoia is when we believe that people are conspiring to make good things happen for us. (Tweet this!) If I have to make something up, I’m choosing that perspective!
• Call people on their clever cynicism – gently but directly. When I hear a remark, I’ll ask, “What did you mean by that?” and see if I can help coach someone to get to the heart of their message AND to put a little more heart into their message.

Will it work? The clever cynic in me would surely have SOME quip to make about it. But the kinder, gentler, less cynical me would just smile and say, “I hope so. I have faith.”

To Your Success without the Tsuris,

Deb

p.s. Despite a late start, I am clearly now an “ambassador” for Jewish living, learning and life – the same kind of ambassador you want your staff and volunteers to be for your organization! Want to learn more about how to do that? Join us for our upcoming webinar “How to Be an Ambassador for Your Organization” on Thursday October 8^th at 1 pm Eastern – and bring everyone on your team to learn with us!