Lisa notes

Do You Assume the Best or the Worst? And a Barking Lady

By LisaNotes March 20, 2026 Compassion, Grace, One Word 2017: Story, Trust 75 Comments

I double-check my notes. I’m on the second floor of my local public library. The call number for the library book is correct. But where is the book? Maybe it has been shelved wrong by mistake.

That’s when I hear the noise.

A loud bark! Directly in my ear.

I jerk around . . . to find a woman brush past me, not a dog, like it sounded.

After barking, she smirks. Then she walks away.

A couple other people come rushing up beside me now. They are clearly disturbed, and ask, “Did that woman just bark at you, too?”

I pause for a split second. I know I have options for my response.

We almost always have options, even when we’re not aware of them.

The Agreements

In 2014, I read a small book of Toltec wisdom by Don Miguel Ruiz called The Four Agreements. (I recommend it.)

Ruiz shares four statements he lives by. They are virtuous and respectful toward all humans. (Read Ruiz’s four agreements here.)

After I finished the book, I tweaked the statements to create my own four agreements for life.

I wrote them on a sticky note and put them on my bedroom mirror. I don’t live them as well as I’d like, but I’m not finished yet.

My first agreement is this:

# 1. Give others the benefit of the doubt.

[Here are all four agreements.
1-Give the benefit of the doubt | 2-Let go of being right | 3-Don’t take it personally | 4-Just show up]

But how? How can we practically give others the benefit of the doubt?

5 Ways to Assume the Best

5 Ways to Give the Benefit of the Doubt

1. Create a Better Story

It’s not easy. We’re wired to distrust uncertainty.

So when we don’t know the whole story (which we rarely do), our minds fill in the gaps. And we don’t naturally assume innocent until proven guilty.

Instead of assuming the best, we think:

  • My husband must hate my new haircut because he said nothing about it
  • My friend just wants to make me mad by bringing up that topic
  • The world is against me because I had a flat tire this afternoon

But if we really don’t know, why not create a good story instead of a bad one?

Can’t we assume a positive what-if scenario instead of a negative one?

2. Use the Golden Rule

Would we want others assuming the worst motives about us when we do something they don’t understand? No.

We think they should know us better than that.

We can treat others’ motives the same way we want ours to be treated.

3. Let Go of Self-Protection

Often our cynicism arises because we don’t want to be hurt. We want to protect ourselves by staying on the defensive, not risking pain through naiveté or being caught off guard.

But is being skeptical the best way to live?

No. We will sometimes get hurt by giving others the benefit of the doubt, but more often we’ll create a brighter world, bringing light into darkness instead of spreading even more darkness.

Safety is an illusion. Take chances with love.

4. Forget Revenge

When we sense we’ve been treated unfairly, we can grow stingy with doling out understanding.

But who among us hasn’t received far more compassion at times than we’ve deserved?

By tuning into the kindnesses that we have been given, we can be more compassionate to others too, all things considered.

In everyday situations, when possible, err on the side of grace instead of judgment. It makes for healthier relationships. And happier ones, too.

5. Do It for You

Lastly, we often show the least compassion to ourselves.

Even when we assume the best in others, we may place unrealistic expectations on ourselves. If our bodies get tired or our tongue gets edgy or a relationship turns sour, we may shame ourselves with labels like Lazy or Selfish or Stupid.

Granted, we do need to take responsibility for our actions.

But we also need to give ourselves the benefit of the doubt as well, knowing we tried, that we wanted the best for everyone. Even when you fail, don’t abandon yourself yourself just because you made a mistake

Choose Your Response

Back at the library, instead of causing a ruckus about the barking woman, I choose to let it go. The woman looked homeless and had more important issues to deal with than receiving a lecture from me on keeping reverent silence in the library.

I laugh off the incident alongside the other people who heard the barking, hoping they will let go of their fears that she’ll be waiting outside to harass them.

The woman seemed completely harmless, just coping with life as best she can.

While some people in the world may be out to get us—and yes, let’s be cautious with those!—most of the people in our circles are decent human beings.

Like us, they too are doing the best they can with what they have.

Fill in the gaps with compassion.

And the library barker?

I’m agreeing to assume the best, not the worst, about her, too.

I’m giving her the benefit of the doubt.

* * *

Are you more naturally trusting or skeptical? Please share your thoughts in the comments.

See all 4 agreements (click on individual infographics)

1-Benefit-Doubt 2-Being-Right 3-Take-Personal 4-Show-Up

image map infographics

1-Give the benefit of the doubt | 2-Let go of being right | 3-Don’t take it personally | 4-Just show up

revised from the archives

The Day I Sat on My Hands Instead of Taking Notes
A March update on my One Word Shift

By LisaNotes March 16, 2026 My stories, Personal Growth, Shift: One Word 2026 25 Comments

Sitting on My Hands

I am in my seat in the beautiful auditorium. I’m listening intently as the poet gives her talk. Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer is speaking amazing truths.

But I’m sitting on my hands.

I’m fighting with myself to not take notes.

Often when I hear a great speaker, I’m clicking on my phone keyboard to write down key points as they say them. The practice has served me well through the years. I have both paper and digital notebooks holding insights I might never have remembered otherwise.

Take notes on a phone while listening to a speaker

I like capturing wisdom while it’s fresh—then having a record I can return to later to reread and maybe incorporate into my life.

All good things.

But there’s a tradeoff.

While I’m copying down one brilliant sentence, the next one is already being spoken. My attention splits because my brain can’t record one thing and fully listen to another at the same time. Neither task gets my full presence.

Who can truly pay attention to two things at once?

So as I listen to Rosemerry, I try to do just one thing:

Listen.

The Leaves That Don’t Let Go

For the month of March, my singular focus with my One Word Shift has been Nature.

I’m paying closer attention to the subtle shifts happening outside: the yellow daffodils pushing through the soil, the tiny unfurling of new leaves, and the stretching of daylight hours that brings us more life.

But I’m also noticing something else.

The dead leaves.

In early spring, when most trees have stood naked for months, a few are still dressed in last year’s leaves. Brown and brittle, long past their prime, these leaves have been hanging on stubbornly all winter long.

Marcescent oak leaves still clinging to branches in early spring

The internet tells me there’s actually a name for this: marcescence.

Certain trees—especially some oaks and beeches—hold onto their dead leaves instead of dropping them in the autumn like most deciduous trees.

Scientists aren’t exactly sure why, but they theorize that the dead leaves stay on the branches to protect new buds, discourage deer and other animals from nibbling tender growth, and provide fresh nutrients in the spring when they do fall.

Nature, it seems, isn’t in any rush to let go. Not until it’s time. Not until the baby leaves arrive and gently push the old ones out of the way.

Our Own Marcescence

As I sit listening to Rosemerry, I wonder about my own connection to holding on and letting go.

I’ve always liked holding onto words the way those marcescent trees hold onto leaves. Notes from talks. Quotes from books. Lines that strike me as important enough to keep, too meaningful to drop.

Sometimes that’s helpful. Last year’s leaves serve a purpose, after all.  So do old words.

But other times I wonder if my intellectual marcescence—clinging to old words even after their season has passed—keeps me from noticing what I’m hearing right now.

The Vase or the Sieve

During her talk, Rosemerry shares a story. She had told a friend about trying to become a bigger vase so she could hold all the emotions she was feeling. (Read the poem here: Pourous)

But her friend gently challenged the premise.

Why be a vase?

Perhaps instead of trying to hold everything, she could be a sieve and let the experiences simply move through her.

Ahh.

I hear the lesson.

I don’t write it down.

One Leaf Worth Keeping

Later, after the talk ends, I pick up my phone. I type the line into my notes:

Be a sieve, not a vase.

That simple nugget of wisdom feels like a leaf worth keeping.

Hopefully the rest of the talk has done its work simply by passing through.

New spring leaves pushing out on a tree branch

Maybe that’s a shift worth noticing: knowing when to hold tight and when to let go.

Some words need to stay with us a long while, until their message is buried deep in our soul or until something new and improved pushes them out of the way.

Other words can drop away quickly once they’ve completed their seasonal work, like leaves returning to the soil in the autumn months.

And like the trees outside our windows, we don’t have to force either approach.

Just let the shifts happen, each in their best time.

Question for you:

Do you write it down when you hear something meaningful—or do you prefer to just listen? Share in the comments.

Read more about Shift:

Read more here about Shift - One Word 2026

What a Smelly Elevator Taught Me About Questioning Beliefs

By LisaNotes March 11, 2026 Book reviews, My stories, Personal Growth 14 Comments

The Elevator Test

When the elevator door on the right opens, we immediately smell something.

It stinks.

It’s Monday afternoon at the apartment complex where we deliver free meals. Our grocery cart is full of food containers, and we’re ready to start making our rounds.

A woman gets out of the elevator. She warns us, “Watch out for the puddle on the floor,” she says. “Someone peed there.”

Now I smell it even stronger.

We pause to debate what to do next.

Do we get on the elevator anyway? Do we wait for the second elevator on the left, hoping it comes quickly?

Apartment elevator representing a moment of hesitation and questioning beliefs

I believe this may be too much for me.

I start leaning toward a third option: maybe we should just call it quits, leave the food in the lobby, and go home.

It surprises me how strong my reaction is. I had wanted to be here. And yet just the idea that someone chose to relieve themselves in an elevator fills me with disgust.

A strong enough belief that I’m ready to walk away.

But as we stand there, I notice I’m reacting strongly to something I don’t actually know for sure.

  • What if someone had been sick?
  • What if it was from a small child?
  • What if it was something else entirely?

Would a different answer make a difference in our decision?

While we linger in the discussion, the elevator door closes. Without us.

A Book for Questioning

Lately I’ve been reading—and experimenting with—a new book by Nir Eyal called Beyond Belief.

The premise is simple but powerful: many of the things that limit us may not be based on evidence, but on false beliefs we’ve unconsciously adopted.

Book cover of Nir Eyal's book Beyond Belief

These are the definitions that Eyal uses to explain the differences between these three things:

  • Fact: An objective truth that can be verified with evidence
  • Faith: A conviction without need for objective evidence
  • Belief: A firmly held opinion, open to revision based on new evidence

The book is primarily about beliefs—our strongly held opinions. Eyal describes beliefs this way:

“Beliefs aren’t simply thoughts or feelings. They’re tools—working models we use to navigate reality when the truth isn’t fully knowable.”

The problem comes when we allow our opinions to limit our lives.

Examples of these kinds of beliefs include:

  • Believing someone doesn’t like you if they had to cancel your lunch date, so you never reschedule
  • Believing you’re not smart enough to graduate so you never enroll in college
  • Believing you’re too old to learn a new skill so you let yourself fall behind

None of these are facts. These beliefs are simply interpretations.

According to Eyal, the way to challenge limiting beliefs isn’t through argument. It’s through finding evidence.

He suggests asking questions like:

  • Does this belief hold up to real-world feedback?
  • Am I ignoring evidence that contradicts it?
  • Is this belief open to revision?

Beliefs matter because what we believe shapes what we see, and what we see shapes what we do.

The Quiet Power of Belief

Not every thought we have is true.

Some thoughts are.
Some thoughts aren’t.

The same goes for beliefs.

But the way to find out isn’t through overthinking—it’s often through trying something and seeing what happens.

Books like Beyond Belief encourage me to do just that. It lists three powers of belief:

  • Attention: the power to see what you believe
  • Anticipation: the power to feel what you believe
  • Agency: the power to do what you believe

Experiment with beliefs by starting with evidence. Focus where it counts. Shape the stories you tell yourself.

Practicing Small Experiments

Since reading the book, I’ve been trying some of these experiments in my own life.

For example, when lying in bed I sometimes believe I’ll never fall asleep. Yet when I pause and look at the evidence, I know I always eventually fall asleep. Every night. Believing my body will suddenly forget how to sleep is a belief that doesn’t hold up.

Or when I believe my whole day will be ruined if I don’t finish my to-do list. I experiment by intentionally leaving a few things undone and see if I survive. Spoiler alert: I do.

And when I believe I can’t finish my rounds if someone urinated in the elevator, I can question that too. Is it possible I actually can endure a 10-second elevator ride while stepping around whatever is on the floor?

Apartment hallway symbolizing small experiments and stepping into new possibilities

The Elevator, Revisited

The elevator door that opens next is the left one. Whew. We get in and go to the second floor. But after finishing the meal deliveries on the second floor, it’s time to return to the elevator to head up to the third floor.

Two doors. Two choices.

Which one will open first? It’s the one on the right. Ugh.

This time, though, something is different.

There’s no odor. No puddle. Just a leftover paper towel from a cleanup.

We step inside and laugh. Whatever had been there before—urine, spilled liquid, something else entirely—is gone.

And either way, we would have survived it.

I’m grateful I didn’t give in to my earlier belief that the situation was simply too horrible to endure. (Shout-out to my companions who helped me persevere.)

The moment feels small, but it sticks with me.

Sometimes testing an experiment isn’t necessarily to prove yourself right or wrong, but to see what is possible.

Maybe it can be as simple as stepping into an elevator that you were sure you couldn’t tolerate.

As Eyal writes:

“Extraordinary lives aren’t built on grand declarations. They’re built on small efforts—actions that create evidence, evidence that strengthens belief, and belief that fuels more action until possibility itself expands.”

And every life deserves to be extraordinary.

Question for you:

Have you ever believed you couldn’t do something, only to discover later that you were more capable than you thought?

Share your thoughts in the comments.

thanks to NetGalley for the review copy of this book

8 Books I Recommend: Being Human, From Memoir to Plague to Fiction

By LisaNotes March 4, 2026 Books I Recommend 19 Comments

I get a warm feeling among my books. 
—Anthony Powell

I love being surprised at a thread that runs through a random stack of books on my nightstand and Kindle.

For March, the books stretched from memoir to science to history to fiction.

And yet, each book indirectly asks some version of the same question I often ask myself: What does it mean to be fully human—embodied, flawed, unique, and purposeful?

Here are the eight books I just finished that I recommend, all circling that shared question from very different angles.

[See previously recommended books here]

NONFICTION

1. The Look
by Michelle Obama

The Look by Michelle Obama book cover

Such a beautiful book in every way.

The rich photography, the gracious commentary, and the honest reflections show us the amazing human being we’ve come to admire in former First Lady Michelle Obama. Through the many “looks” she took on in her White House years and beyond, she reminds us that our look is about far more than appearance.

I highly recommend reading this in print instead of as an ebook or audiobook, so you can fully experience the stunning, glossy images.

2. The Extinction of Experience
Being Human in a Disembodied World
by Christine Rosen

The Extinction of Experience book cover

This will likely be one of my top 10 books for 2026.

Christine Rosen makes the case that our digital lives may be stripping away the very things that make us human—our embodied experiences. I found myself pausing again and again to think about what we lose when we replace real-life bodily participation with watching others live life through screens.

But this is not an anti-technology book. It just urges us to be intentional about prioritizing what we value most—especially our real-world experiences.

3. Awake: A Memoir
by Jen Hatmaker

Awake: A Memoir by Jen Hatmaker book cover

In this candid memoir—because how else would Jen Hatmaker write?—she weaves together childhood memories and adult experiences with her signature vulnerability and humor. She is very open about how she is navigating life after her husband left and as her faith shifted. I’ve always admired her honesty and humility, and both are as evident in this book as previous ones.

4. This Changes Everything
A Surprisingly Funny Story About Race, Cancer, Faith, and Other Things We Don’t Talk About
by Tyler Merritt

This Changes Everything book cover

I first became aware of Tyler Merritt in 2020 when his YouTube video, “Before You Call the Cops,” went viral (it originally aired in 2018). After reading his first book, I Take My Coffee Black, I became a fan—and now with this book, I love him even more. Here he shares his cancer journey with honesty and vulnerability.

I highly recommend you listen to this book instead of just reading it. Tyler narrates it himself (and sometimes his mom, his cancer doctor, and others), adding such nuance and humor even beyond the words on the page.

Having heard him speak and meeting him in person two weeks ago, I find him just as delightful a human being face-to-face as he is on Instagram. This week he is starting radiation and chemo for his most recently diagnosed colon cancer. (And as an aside, I love that he and Jen Hatmaker are a couple.)

5. Truly
An Inspirational Journey Through the Life of a Musical Legend
by Lionel Richie

Truly by Lionel Richie book cover

Having grown up as a Commodores fan and later a fan of Lionel Richie’s solo career, I thoroughly enjoyed learning the backstory behind his songs and life (plus, he’s an Alabama native like me). Such an interesting journey he’s had.

By watching him as a judge on American Idol since 2018, I’ve come to appreciate his humility and genuine desire to help young artists pursue their dreams as he pursued his.

This book is also exceptional to listen to (but see the hardback book for photos). It is narrated by actor Blair Underwood, who does a phenomenal job in capturing Lionel’s voice, tone, and laughter.

6. The Genetic Lottery * * *
Why DNA Matters for Social Equality
by Kathryn Paige Harden

The Genetic Lottery book cover

This book was a little too academic for me in places, but it’s still worth the effort to better understand how genetic differences can influence life outcomes in ways we don’t always expect. Harden argues that acknowledging biology can actually strengthen our commitment to social justice rather than weaken it.

I recommend it because it opens up new ways of thinking about fairness, opportunity, and inequality in our country.

FICTION

7. Year of Wonders
by Geraldine Brooks

Year of Wonders book cover

Based on true events, this novel is set in a 17th-century English village struck by the Great Plague of 1665–1666. It follows Anna Frith, a young housemaid to the local pastor and his wife, as she chooses courage and sacrifice in the face of unimaginable tragedy. Though heartbreaking, the storytelling is so well done. The book is a haunting caution to me of what helps—and what harms—when communities are hit by disasters.

8. Out of Darkness
by Ashley Hope Pérez

Out of Darkness book cover

This is another difficult but powerful novel. It’s based on the 1937 school explosion in New London, Texas, that killed nearly 300 students and teachers. It centers on the growing love between Naomi, a Mexican American teen, and Wash, a young Black boy who befriends her and her twin siblings. The racial injustice back then is painful to witness, yet remains important to continue to remember and confront even now.

WHAT I’M READING NOW

  • How Donating a Kidney Fixed My Jump Shot
    And 73 Other Short Essays
    by Jim Sollisch
  • Nations Apart
    How Clashing Regional Cultures Shattered America
    by Colin Woodard
  • The Unfolding: Poems
    by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
  • The Let Them Theory
    A Life-Changing Tool That Millions of People Can’t Stop Talking About
    by Mel Robbins
  • Speak
    by Laurie Halse Anderson

A Closing Reflection

Across these different genres, these books remind me that being human is complicated. We are each shaped by so many factors: culture, technology, biology, faith, history, and chance.

And yet, through every story, I see the importance of finding our common ground, respecting our differences, and learning how to live well together, things that matter the most.

*** Books from Daniel Pink’s 21 Favorite Books list; you can find it here. I’m working through the list. I’ve read 16 so far, and have 5 more to go. Getting closer!

Have you read a good book lately? I’d love to hear in the comments.

I’m sharing at these linkups

On the Blog – February 2026

By LisaNotes February 28, 2026 Archives No Comments

Here are brief summaries and links to posts on the blog, Lisa notes, from February 2026.

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See previous months’ archives here

Experimenting with a Shift in Pace (Share 4 Somethings)
—Share Four Somethings February 2026

By LisaNotes February 28, 2026 Life updates, Shift: One Word 2026 25 Comments

I’ve been experimenting this month with my One Word—Shift—in a slightly different direction: pace.

Not doing less or doing more, necessarily, but adjusting the speed—faster or slower—where it felt possible. Paying attention to the rhythm of my days. Speeding up things that didn’t need dragging out. Slowing down things that deserved to be stretched.

Here are my 4 Somethings this month, shaped by Shift. I’m linking up with Jenn here.

I’m also sharing my last month’s One Second Everyday video.

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~ * ~ * ~ * ~

1. Something I Loved

  • “Name One” Brunch

Last weekend we hosted a brunch for the families of our book club participants. I see the women every week, but not their kids and partners. It’s always fun to expand the circle.

Everyone brought one item that represented something about themselves—and a story to go along with it. We played a fast word game Blank Slate and shared a photo from our phones that made us smile.

box cover of Blank Slate board game

It felt enriching to have all morning to shift our pace, lingering over stories and really noticing each other. It helped us see how the unique things about each person are also the very things that bring us together.

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 ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

2. Something Sustaining Me

  • A Colorado Weekend Retreat

At the beginning of the month, I spent a fantastic weekend in Colorado with a few online friends who are now in-person friends.

Our two hosts thoughtfully planned meaningful activities for each day, allowing plenty of breathing space in between for casual conversations or quiet solitude.

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On the final night, we made a gorgeous mandala from objects we’d been creating throughout the weekend—such a slow, rich closing to an intimate weekend of treasured community.

mandala at a Colorado retreat

 ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

3. Something Carrying Me Forward

  • Time Tracking for a Week

Once every year or so, I keep a time log for one week, thanks to Laura Vanderkam’s enthusiastic recommendation and annual challenge. This year I chose a week in February to track my time.

It’s a little bit of a hassle, but using the wonderful Toggl app makes it almost fun. And definitely quicker than keeping up with it by hand.

At the end of the week, I was curious (and slightly nervous) to see the breakdown of how I spent my hours. Toggl provides you with wonderful charts of your week.

As expected for anybody, sleep was my largest category (53 hours).

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The big surprise (to me, maybe not to my husband?) was what came in second: reading in bed, clocking in at 9.5 hours for that week—mostly centered around 6am and 9:30pm. Those bookends of the day are some of my favorite slow times to read without looking at the clock.

I don’t use time tracking to pass judgment on how I spend my time, but rather to notice my rhythms and pace, and figure out any adjustments I’d like to make going forward.

As with most things, shifts often start with awareness.

[Read more: Four tools to live with time, not against it]

 ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

4. Something I’m Making Space For

  • The Alabama Solution

My husband and I spent a Sunday afternoon at our local public library to watch The Alabama Solution (you can also watch it on HBO).

It’s a sobering documentary (it received an Academy Award nomination!) about the deadly abuses inside Alabama’s prison system.

Watch the 2-minute trailer here.

Cover image for the video documentary The Alabama Solution
It felt slow. And hard. But important to witness.

Part of shifting my pace this month meant sticking with uncomfortable things, if they were also valuable things. This film fit that category.

Other than contacting state officials, there’s not much I can do about the problem, but I can at least stay informed. And that is something.

—

This month reminded me that shifts don’t have to be drastic to be meaningful. They can happen around a brunch table. In the mountains. In a spreadsheet of hours. With a community watching something hard.

All at a human pace.

A Question for You:

Where would you like to slow down—or speed up—this week?

Share your thoughts in the comments.

I’m linking at these blog parties