Planting Seeds of Kindness

Knowing they will grow.

No idea where or when or how or why… just knowing, they will take root. Like dandelion seeds set free in the wind, they will blow and travel, may bounce off one rock and land in the dirt-filled crevices of another.

And against all odds, grow. What if we spread kindness like a weed?

Like the movement that was started July 1^st called Kindness 365 in which for the next year a group of six people sponsored by generous backers will travel the country by bus committing random acts of small and great kindnesses.

Like the people of Dallas randomly walking up and hugging police officers.

Like all kinds of kindness.

The kinds that are already happening everywhere but we rarely see on the news. The problem with projecting headlines that almost exclusively feature fear and bad news is that it creates a landscape of scarcity in our hearts.

And this feeling has a way of filtering into our lives and creating the reality by which we are surrounded.

Abundance is a luxury we can’t afford.

This is totally absurd. And yet, I feel it all the time. I feel disgusted with myself for not being more generous with my heart, with our money, with my life. I feel like I am in constant protection mode.

We have not saved enough for our kids’ college, for our retirement, to fix the retaining wall that is collapsing in the backyard… the list goes on.

And yet, we are ridiculously, obscenely blessed with a wealth of everything from the health of our family to our beautiful home. We are surrounded by peace and love and beauty every day.

Yet, we are afraid.

That the challenging circumstances of our industry, the increasing taxes, decreasing client budgets and political uncertainty will render us unable to provide for our future and that of our children.

We spend much time strategizing how to safeguard against the potentially perilous years ahead. At our best, we brainstorm brilliant ideas that will carry us into inspiring and financially viable new directions.

But, even still, there is an undercurrent of fear.

I am guilty of feeding it.

Like some kind of freaky little pet, I feed it small pellets of doubt, insecurity and despair. Though unintentional, it is conscious. I think of is as pre-emptive trouble-shooting. Me protecting our family’s future.

But it’s not. At best it’s unnecessary wheel-spinning. At worst it insures the struggle. Not because I am such a powerful manifesting machine. But because what you see is what you get.

If I see hardship, than I scan my horizon for just that.

It is a choice. It just never seems like one.

The facts always seem so plain and clear and telegraphically cautioning. But the facts are always my perception of reality. Not reality itself.

It’s not what IS, but what I think that means.

I spiral through interpretation. Through possibility. Opportunity and doom. I forget IT is not a living breathing thinking entity. I am. I can decide what to do. And the world around and beyond IT is up to me to envision.

It is a micro and macro phenomena.

Two African-Americans are killed. Five police officers are killed. We can fill our hearts with outrage, anger and defiance or empathy, love and a desire to initiate kindness.

Fear or love. Every day. Toward the people closest to us and complete strangers. From a place of abundance. Yesterday on our way into the grocery store there was a gentleman collecting for disabled veterans. I gave Leo a dollar to give to him.

He was incredibly grateful.

We went in and began filling the cart with strawberries and cherries and I couldn’t shake this feeling of opportunity to express greater gratitude and respect and empathy. To open our hearts wider.

I sent Leo back with a twenty. He returned with a little felt flower attached to a small wire that said thank you. I nearly burst into tears. I didn’t deserve a thank you. He did. For being out there in the blazing heat helping those who are struggling.

For being grateful for anything and everything and mostly nothing. For staying the course and not giving up despite all of fear that we could never give enough to make any difference at all.

What if that wasn’t true?

What if we what we each and all gave, whatever it was, a smile, a prayer, an acknowledgment that we need each other. Need help and care but more than that just recognition that we are all trying our best.

We are all part of this human condition. We can all break down in worry and fear and scarcity.

But we can also all rise up into love, compassion and kindness.

Today I gave our housekeeper money to send flowers to her mother in Mexico for her uncle who passed away. I wrote a note telling a couple I love how terrific I think they are. I ordered Popsicle makers on Amazon for our boys.

Hardly the equivalent of mending racial tension but our housekeeper’s eyes filled up and she hugged me closely. I know our boys will smile. And the note I got back from the couple was so gracious and grateful and loving, it filled me up.

Kindness is contagious. A wild weed of love.