What did I do this week that was kind? Um, no. I am not gonna write about any kind thing I may or may not have done.
“Why not?” You
Maybe my perception of behaving kindly reflects my parents’ generation and their admonitions:
“Don’t brag.” “Don’t fish for compliments.” The Greatest Generation
I do kind things out of the goodness of my heart, and I think telling people about the kind things I do diminishes the goodness of my heart. It’s fine if nobody else feels that way, but I do, and hey, I’m the one I have to live with.
But because of something that happened yesterday, I have a single exception I’m willing to make to share a single story.
Myopia creeps up on you until one day, you realize you’re squinting at the blackboard just to read the assignment. But because squinting solves your problem, you don’t even think to say anything about it to your parents. They usually have to notice you squinting at something else unless an observant teacher alerts them first.
And you end up with glasses. They make your eyesight great again, but now you have to remember to wear them. You have to make a new habit. I’ve done it. It was hard at first, but the improvement those glasses made to the quality of my life was so great, it wasn’t long before putting them on was a no-brainer.
Living kindly is like that. You have to see the world through a kindness lens, but that doesn’t mean you have to see the world through Rose Colored Glasses.
Like looking for the good — or bad — in people, you will find kindness if you look for it. And often in unlikely places. Who thought to put these furry blooms in a stairway post two days ago? A child or a grownup? It was certainly a deliberate choice. There isn’t even one of these plants close by. Today they weren’t there, but they weren’t scattered on the ground, either. Where do you suppose they are now? In someone’s living room? Lining a bird’s nest? Strung together like a fuzzy crown gracing the head of a three year old Prince or Princess of the Playground?