Put on your own mask first.

I saw something simple and beautiful the other day. As I waited for my to-go coffee to go from the counter at Picnic, I watched the young woman, hair pulled back, mask obscuring her expression, meticulously wiping and wiping and wiping the outdoor table she had cleared.

I stood there transfixed, lifted by, what … her care? Her proof of human decency? I could practically hear the words in her head, “Be well. Be safe. Be happy here.” The swell in my chest was exactly the same sensation I get during sappy car commercials or watching one of my sons smile at someone. It was a gentle reminder of goodness. Of our potential to be generous with each other. 

We keep saying this, and it’s true: we’re in a marathon, not a sprint. To continue to give of ourselves, we have to also give to ourselves. As we round the corner on one of the most successful “giving” events anywhere, I am reminded of something Mrs. Old Bill said years ago, when she began sharing her own mental wellness tools with leaders in our community. “It’s true what they say about putting on your own mask first,” she said. “You have to have good ideas for taking care of yourself, or you’re not much use to anyone else.” 

I love the way the mask metaphor is working to reveal this truth about giving and receiving: they are interrelated and meaningless without each other. Extending care to yourself enables you to bring strength and purpose to your care for others. In some cases we don the mask to give ourselves oxygen, and in other cases, we wear it as a greeting card to friends and strangers, a card that says, “I care about you.” 

It is politics, not masks, that obscure these truths: generosity and care are only helpful if they are active, received, and returned. The gift can be anything -- money, time, empathy. It doesn’t matter what you give, only that you give. To yourself, and to others. That you get down to business wiping that table, writing that note, giving money or time, or showing up with a simple desire to keep care at play.  We can all participate in the currencies of empathy, creative problem-solving, and a fundamental open-heartedness. 

Mr. and Mrs. Old Bill set an example that is the highest of bars, by all metrics. But I think their legacy really stems from the fact that they didn’t overthink. They acted. And then Alan acted. And Frances and Bill and Sarah and Karen and Jimmy. And Katharine and Julia, Fred, Cory, David, Peggy, Erika, Kellie, Carol, Gillian, and Bob.

It’s hard to say what has had a deeper impact -- the millions of dollars generated for organizations such as St. John’s Health, One22, the Counseling Center, Teton Youth and Family Services, the Center for the Arts, Search and Rescue, the Community Foundation itself (and, yes, Becoming Jackson Whole) -- or the adoption of values that tether us together, reliant on the choices and goodness of friends and strangers alike. 

Or maybe the sum of both becomes greater than each part, a powerful reminder of the good that comes from the simple act of wishing well for others. We can practice this through “well wishes” meditations, which help us feel more connected to others. Research suggests that, when practiced regularly, well wishes meditations can improve our social interactions and close relationships. One of our youngest teachers, Isaac Kinney, shows us how it’s done.


Sara Flitner