Set an intention

Make room for

more light in your life and

more joy in your heart.

Set an intention for

peace and love to flourish

and chaos and fear to diminish.

Let generosity grow and scarcity shrink.

Count how many times a day

you say thank you or

offer a compliment.

Notice the abundance in your life and

act for those who have less.

Pray for those in your family or neighborhood

who face challenges and are struggling, and

those around the world who face tyrants.

Remember those who are grieving.

Reach out to those who are lonely or lost.

Every act of kindness ripples out into the world and

then comes back to us,

bridging the space between us and

reminding us that we are one.

Bringing joy

Every act of kindness

is like a butterfly flitting by or

a hummingbird hovering over a flower—

an unexpected gift to be seen and savored.

Whether you are the giver or receiver,

every act of kindness brings joy.

A spark

Hope is ignited by a single spark,

an act of kindness,

a smile,

a touch,

a hug.

Creating positive vibes

One of my neighbors used sidewalk chalk to create a “Positivity Path” on the sidewalk in front of her house and two neighboring houses. Each concrete slab presents a different image or quote encouraging trust and hope, with such messages as Stay Positive and You sometimes tend to think you’ve been buried. Perhaps you’ve been planted. Bloom.

• 

• 

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I smile as I walk her “Positivity Path” every morning, pausing to read each message, grateful for the reminder to resist darkness and despair, to choose light and hope.

Her project reminds me of the paper hearts people are putting on doors and windows to show support for health care workers and first responders—those people who are putting their own safety at risk during this pandemic.

Words of inspiration and hope also come to me in a daily email from Country & Town House, which usually focuses on travel and cultural events in the U.K. but is now sharing “Good News You Need Right Now”—stories of the ways people are showing support and having a positive impact during the COVID19 pandemic. I read each story and marvel at the thoughtfulness and selflessness of so many people around the world.

And then there are free webinars on mindfulness, meditation and prayer available online, plus free concerts from every music genre—all ways to help us remain grounded and hopeful.

Abundant generosity and kindness living side-by-side with the darkness of the coronavirus.

All those messages of thoughtfulness and hope invite to me to consider what I can do to show support and gratitude for people who provide essential services—and to create hope in my own community. They invite me to dwell in possibility instead of in panic.

I am not much of a sidewalk-chalk kind of person, but I would welcome any neighbor who wanted to add positive messages and pictures to the sidewalk in front of my house.

I can cut hearts out of construction paper to display on my door.

I can sew and will go through my fabric stash and make up some masks.

I can pray.

Perhaps the most positive thing I can do is offer support and encouragement in note cards, over the phone or on social media, especially to those who live alone and/or are facing the pandemic at the same time they are facing cancer or some other health issues.

My neighbor’s “Positivity Path” is a great reminder that this is the path I need to walk every day, in whatever ways I can.  

We can each create our own path of positive energy through acts of kindness, and beauty, and we can bring light to darkness and hope to despair. What are you doing to remain positive?

"I've been waiting for you."

I had just finished making my purchase at Office Depot and complimented the young cashier on her earrings. I asked if she had made them. She hadn’t, and she told me where she bought them.

“Are they something you would wear?” she asked.

“I would.”

“I have been waiting for you,” she said. “Stay right there.”

She bent down, retrieved a package from the shelf beneath the counter and handed it to me.

I thanked her and walked out of the store with my gift—a small bag containing the same earrings she was wearing and a card with “Thank you” printed on the front and this handwritten message on the inside:

A kind gesture can reach a wound that only compassion can heal. -Steve Maraboli.

Pass the kindness on. The world could use it.

She had drawn two hearts on the card and signed her name.

Since that encounter, I keep thinking of her intentionality and thoughtfulness. I am amazed at how planful she was in her act of kindness. It was only random in the sense of her having no idea who would receive it.

That encounter reminded me of a woman I met years ago after her one-woman show performed in a small chapel at my university. I had approached her to thank her for her presentation and we discovered we had both lived in l’Arche communities.

She shared that she decided to move to l’Arche after meeting a man from my community who was visiting her college for a weekend workshop designed for students to learn about l’Arche. She said that Ross had walked right up to her, lightly touched her arm and said, “I have been looking for you.” She knew in that instant that she was supposed to live in l’Arche.

I didn’t tell her that Ross did that to many people, because it did not really matter. What mattered was that she was the one who was open to hearing his message; she was the one who responded to the invitation.

How many of us are waiting for someone to choose us to hear a certain message or receive a gift? How many of us are waiting for an invitation?

Conversely, how can we be instruments of change by acknowledging someone, by inviting others to see in new ways or by acts of kindness?

After I had met the woman from l’Arche, I often thought about how Ross knew which people to approach. I wondered if he had an intuition that certain people were waiting to be asked.

Now I can see that we are all waiting, even if we don’t know it.

I walked into that store with a list of things I needed to buy; I walked out with a deeper understanding of generosity.

I was deeply moved by that young woman’s act of kindness, and I find myself telling this story with a sense of wonder.

Have you had similar experiences? The world could use more kindness, so please share your stories.

Gratitude

Winter came early this year, unexpected.

I was not ready for it; I thought I had more time.

What else catches me by surprise?

Acts of kindness?

Moments of joy?

Flashes of fear or anger?  

Hold on loosely to everything because it is all passing.

Give thanks for everything because it is all gift.

Spread joy

After a change in travel plans, I called the airline to see if I could get on an earlier flight, but I had bought a “no changes allowed” ticket. The airline representative told me, though, that the gate agent could let me board an earlier flight, so I decided to go to the airport early to see if the I could make the switch.

It was my birthday, and I thought that if the gate agent knew, it might help my cause. So, I bought a button that proclaimed Birthday Girl and pinned it to my coat.

I am happy to be alive and grateful for every birthday. I have never lied about my age because every birthday reminds me how blessed I am and gives me the opportunity to think of family members and friends who died young, all those who did not reach my current age.

In the shuttle from the car rental agency to the airport terminal, several people wished me happy birthday. A man across from me asked me how old I was, which startled me since people don’t usually ask. I told him I was sixty-eight, and he said, “You look great.”

I don’t know what sixty-eight is supposed to look like (or act like, for that matter), but I appreciated the compliment.

The TSA agent looked at my birthday girl button and checked my driver’s license before wishing me a happy birthday. “Just checking?” I asked. “I didn’t want to be made a fool,” he said.

The surly cashier at the donut shop looked at my button and asked, “Is it really your birthday?” I assured her it was. She broke out in a big smile and wished me a happy birthday.  

The birthday wishes continued as I walked through the terminal to the gate, and it made me happy to think of the impact of one little button.

When I got to the gate, the monitor indicated that there were fifty open seats on the earlier flight.

I approached the gate agent and explained my situation and asked if she could help me. She said there was nothing she could do. I relayed my conversation with the airline representative on the phone, but nothing—not even knowing it was my birthday—softened her. 

I wondered what had happened to this woman that prevented her from doing this act of kindness. Had she just gotten some bad news? Was she preoccupied with her own problems? Had someone said “no” to her that morning?

I understood that she was just doing her job, that she had every right to deny my request, and so I walked away. I was sad for her and prayed that she would find joy.

And I didn’t allow her surliness to impact my happiness. As I boarded my flight, the flight attendant said happy birthday and asked if I was thirty-nine. “I crossed over to forty this year,” I joked. Complimentary bubbly and extra cookies added to my birthday celebration.

Birthdays in heaven

Jim and I used to celebrate our “feast days”—mine is July 22, the feast of St. Mary Magdalene, and his was July 25, the feast of St. James. During my morning prayer on each of those days recently, I recalled how we would mark these occasions—usually with a card and a small gift related to our patron saint.

Although Jim is no longer physically present, I still feel close to him, especially on days that were significant when he was alive.

At lunch with friends the other day, one mentioned that her grandson’s birthday is coming up in a few weeks. This is will be the second birthday “since he is gone,” she said. The expression birthdays in heaven came to mind. Although her grandson is no longer physically present, his presence is still very strong, and she wants to mark his birthday.

A few weeks ago, I facilitated a bereavement group at the cancer support center where I work. A dozen people talked about the pain of loss and the process of grief. They were strangers before coming to this group, and now they are connected by their shared experience of loss.

At the end of the meeting, the conversation took on a different tone as they planned their monthly Saturday dinner together.

Hope and resiliency were the words that came to mind as the air in the room became lighter. In the midst of deep sorrow, these twelve people were excited about their upcoming dinner.

Life is so often that kind of balancing act; sorrow and joy sitting side by side.

We hold all kinds of sorrows—because of death, dashed dreams, family members lost to addictions, betrayals, health issues and so on—and yet we also hold hope that things will get better.

And if we can hold onto that hope, things usually do get better.

We learn to carry our sorrow without letting it overwhelm us. We remember good times and discover deep gratitude for what had once been. We create a niche in our hearts where we store happy memories.

These experiences of loss change our lives and change us. They can increase our capacity for empathy and compassion, and they can teach us what really matters in life.

Moving through loss and grief can take a long time. People can get stuck in grief, fearing that to let go of sorrow would be a betrayal to those who have died or perhaps finding consolation in the identity of someone who is bereft.

That seems to be the exception, though; most people find a way to move through grief to a new normal—not the same as what once was, but good in a different way.

After their dinner, several members of the bereavement group reported that they had fun. One man brought each of them a loaf of bread from his daughter’s bakery. Small acts of generosity can lift spirits and awaken hope.

What can you do today that will generate hope?

Thankful every day

A big part of living in gratitude is noticing little events throughout the day that have a positive impact on us—and taking the time to register these small events as the gifts they are.For example, the other day, I received a check from a doctor I had seen two years ago. The accompanying letter said an audit showed they owed me a refund. Being somewhat skeptical, I called the billing department (I didn’t want to cash the check and then find I had actually enrolled in a Vitamin of the Month club). The billing department confirmed this check was legitimate.

“Merry Christmas to me,” I said to the billing department staff person. Yes, this was a gift, pure gift, and I was grateful. It was only $20, but it was an unexpected $20, something I didn’t have the day before.

As I drove to work soon after that call, I recalled the check, my response to the billing department staff person and my happiness at having received this unexpected gift. I added “unexpected gifts” to my litany of gratitude for the day, and reminded myself to be more mindful of other unexpected gifts throughout the day.

I didn’t have to wait long.

When I got to my office, I found a note taped to the door with a picture attached—just someone thoughtfully stopping by to say hi and to leave a little gift.

I allowed myself to feel the delight that welled up inside me, and the gratitude for this person’s thoughtfulness. Again, a small thing, but one that touched me because it was unexpected and because it was a random act of generosity.

Later that day, a volunteer came into my office to work with me on a project. This one-hour meeting would lead to her spending many more hours of follow-up work at home, all of which will strengthen our nonprofit organization. She embraces her volunteer work enthusiastically, happy to be able to use her skills to build up our nonprofit, and her commitment to our organization makes a big difference. I was grateful, thanked her, and added her to my litany of gratitude.

And so the day went. Seemingly little things adding up to make a big difference.

It can be easy to see what goes wrong in a day—the rude driver or the phone call that does not end in my favor or the volunteer who doesn’t show up for a scheduled meeting. But, shifting the focus to what goes right and giving more energy to noticing the good things creates fertile ground for gratitude to grow.

It can be a subtle shift, but one that results in significant changes because we are more likely to see what we look for. If we only focus on what is going wrong, we cannot see what is going right.

Focusing on what is going right sets us on the path to seeing and receiving more good things—more things for which to be grateful.

 

 

Seeing a kinder world

A recent social media post about a random act of kindness was met with a variety of responses, most of which were some version of “too bad more people don’t do that” or “that used to be the norm.”

I wanted to comment that many people still do that, and that kindness is everywhere—if we are open to see it.During a recent visit with a woman I knew as a teen, she lamented the bad things that were happening in the old neighborhood. “Every day,” she said, “someone gets shot there.”

“Really?” I asked. “Have you been back to the old neighborhood?”

“Of course not,” she said, seeming shocked that I would even suggest it. “I watch the news.”

Aha.

Many people seem to believe that the news is a comprehensive and honest portrayal of daily life. They have forgotten the maxim coined by news outlets: If it bleeds it leads.

I acknowledge that the proliferation of guns has made our country a more dangerous place to live, but crime is not new. The overexposure to violence on the twenty-four hour news cycle is what is new, and it creates the impression that only bad things are happening in our world. The truth is that bad things have always happened—alongside good things.

But if we are convinced that only bad things are happening, we will miss the good things that are happening all around us.Random acts of kindness are not sensational so they don’t get much press, but I see acts of kindness every day. Mostly, they are small things that do not rise to the level of television newsworthiness. They do, though, contribute to the creation of a caring community.At work the other day, someone suggested taking up a collection for a man who has been extra helpful this year (his random acts of kindness would fill a whole book), and someone else asked what we can do for a volunteer who is having surgery. A representative from a local company called to say they had collected gifts cards for us. Later, two people suggested sending cards to people in particularly difficult situations.

Kindness abounds, but we can easily miss it if fear colors our outlook and keeps us locked in our homes. We cannot see goodness when we are only looking for evil.Being more aware of kindness helps to counteract the negativity of the news.

Performing random acts of kindness also helps because it predisposes us to seeing the good by being the good.

My New Year’s resolution:

• To perform at least one random act of kindness every day;
• To acknowledge the kindnesses I witness by saying, “You are so kind” or “that was so kind;” and
• To accept acts of kindness with heartfelt gratitude.

I invite you to join me in focusing on acts of kindness—performing them, acknowledging them and accepting them. Perhaps then social media will explode with stories of kindness, and we will see kindness as the norm.