High on Happiness

Posts Tagged ‘Kindness’

“What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity. They are but trifles, to be sure but, scattered along life’s pathway, the good they do is inconceivable.” ~Anonymous

You never know what your one, small act of kindness can do.  A smile, given from the heart, can turn a life around.  A word of encouragement, a touch, a small, thoughtful gesture can make all the difference in someone’s day.

In an indifferent world where we are often little more than cardboard cutouts to each other, bit players in a crowd, kindness rescues us from our anonymity and loneliness.  It connects us to each other and makes us real.

Kindness says, “I see you. I respect you. I acknowledge you.”  It tells the other that you are humans together, with similar trials and cares.  It says, “You matter. I have time for you. Let me listen.  Let me help.”

Kindness is a joy-flower that strengthens the spirit and refreshes the soul of giver and receiver alike.  It’s soft as feathers and bright as the sun, and happiness is its perfume.

At the end of the day when the rush and tumble stills and your thoughts unwind the hours, let them drift to the places where kindness spilled its light, where laughter broke through.  Let them dwell on the moments when you connected with someone, heart to heart.

Watch from way up high.  See how touching your ordinary moments were, how satisfying your accomplishments, even of small things.  Notice how skillfully you performed all those little acts you take so easily for granted.  And rest a bit in the happiness of it all.

Dip into the pleasures and delights and savor their sweetness and spice all over again—the melodies, the rhythms, the motion, the colors, the fragrances and textures and tastes.  Appreciate the richness and variety you encountered, even when you weren’t really paying attention.  See how the memory remains even so.

Let the glow of forgiveness and compassion bathe you, enveloping you in its freeing warmth.  Let it wash over all the acts you would undo, and those committed by others that piqued your irritation or ire, and let them dissolve in its waters and be healed.

Then rest, with a heart glad and free, and dream sweet dreams.  Dream sweet dreams.

The old man was still stiff when he woke.  With great effort, he managed to prop himself up on his elbow and lift himself to a sitting position on his bed. The pain shot down his spine.  This was the fifth day; it wasn’t getting any better.

He had just finished pulling on his clothes when his son called.  “You want to help me cut some wood?  We’re out,” The younger man said.

Over the years the old man had learned that keeping active was often the cure for aches and pains.  And besides, he had a belly full of ambition that the years just couldn’t use up.  His neighbor lady was out of wood, too, he thought; he’d bring her enough to get her by for a day or two.  And besides, he’d promised her he would bring the Sunday paper.

Clenching his teeth against the pain, he pulled on his heavy coat and boots, tucked the paper under his arm and climbed into his old pick up truck.

He loved the sound of the chain saw cutting through the wood.  And this was cherry; it would burn hot and long.  As he worked with his son in the cold morning, he almost forgot the burning pain in his back.  The two men worked together, the steam pumping from their mouths, for over an hour.  When they were finished, hefty piles of logs filled the beds of their trucks.

Spotting a few scrap slices of wood on the snow, the old man bent to pick them up and threw them in his truck’s cab, smiling.  She would like these, he thought.  She’ll think they’re pretty.

Minutes later, he was knocking at her door.  “Hope you got a pot of coffee going,” he said.  “That cold out there is damp.”

She poured coffee and put a pot of chili on the stove to warm as he told her all the local gossip.  “I didn’t come for the lunch!” he protested as she put a steamy bowl in front of him.  But he ate it greedily and said, “That’s the best chili I ever had.”

They hauled in the logs together and as she lit a fire in the kitchen’s wood stove, he headed back out to the truck.  When he returned, he set four little slabs of wood on her counter top and said, “You might want to take pictures of these.  Pretty aren’t they?”

“That red in the center is called heart wood,” he told her, “and this stuff on the edge is sap wood.  See the rings in the middle?”

He drank another half cup of coffee and pointed out things in the paper that interested him.  Then he slowly pulled himself from the chair, groaning.  “I think I’ll call doc tomorrow,” he said.  “My back’s not better at all.”

She watched through the window as he walked back to his truck, sorry for his pain, and grateful for the wood, with its heart, and for her neighbor, and his heart.  And she was warmed by the kindness and the fire.

“For auld lang syne, my dear,
for auld lang syne,
we’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
for auld lang syne.”

The winds of nostalgia waft across the year’s waning hours.  It held so much, so many milestones and changes – births, deaths, celebrations, sorrows – and now it’s coming to a close.

Endings matter.  The way we wrap things as we tuck them away in memory colors how we’ll feel when we look back.

If you so choose, the passing year can be a treasure for you, laden with shining experiences, golden lessons, bright coins of beauty and joy, discovery, meaning and peace.  All it takes is a willingness to make it so, to give the swiftly passing year your blessing as it flows into memory’s store.

Wrap it with forgiveness and compassion as you store it away, and tie it with ribbons of thankfulness and joy.  Lift a cup of kindness to it, and to all who shared its moments with you, for old time’s sake, my dear, for auld lang syne.

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When the world is painted in browns and grays, be the touch of red that gives it color.  When silence fills the forest, be its song.

Fling your radiance into the gloom.  Be the dazzle.  Be the light.  Unfurl your shine.

Be the word of encouragement, the voice of optimism, the touch of kindness that makes smooth the tangled path.

Be the laughter that dissolves the dullness, the sparkle that reawakens joy.  Be the difference that changes things.

Send your confident music out into the void.  Bring the sun back.  Open the sky.

Be the song.

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It’s nothing that you think about, I know, or see from the inside.  But I see.

I see how you drop your little kindnesses, a word here, a smile there, as you go about your day.

I see how you reach out, tell a funny story, pat someone on the back, how you listen.

I see the way you notice strangers, give them a grin, ask if you can help them, open doors when their arms are full.

I see how you offer your comfort, how you laugh at everyone’s jokes, how you say, “Good job!”

Layer by layer you build the collage of your thoughtfulness, laying down patterns of joy that decorate the world with their grace.

So I just want to thank you for being exactly who you are, for enriching the lives of us all, and, especially, for being my friend.

All day long the rain pelted my office window.   Two of the copiers went down.  My monitor gave up the ghost.  The file drawer in my desk that holds my most-used files suddenly wouldn’t open.  Two brand new employees were waiting at my door for orientation.  The phone rang nonstop. And everybody needed everything yesterday.

I laced up my roller skates, gulped down my protein drink, buttoned on my cape, cranked up my best smile and took it on.

Time blew past without my even noticing it.  It was definitely a hundred-mile-an-hour day.

About three o’clock, when I was trying out some magic tricks on one of the rebelling copiers, one of our therapists came into the room.  “Have you stopped all day?” she asked.  Leslie had seen me in every corner of the building she visited since early morning.  I laughed and confessed I hadn’t even eaten lunch.

I had been settled at my desk about five minutes when she called me.  “Are you going to be in your office for a little while?” she asked.  “I have something for you.”  A few minutes later she was at my door, a CD in her hand.

“Where’s your computer?” she asked, and spotting it, she walked over and stuck in the CD.  “Turn your speakers on,” she said.  And the next thing I knew, incredibly soothing music was floating through the air—a babbling brook, violins, a harp.

Leslie winked, smiled, and leaving, gently closed my door.

What a beautiful gift!  How thoughtful and caring!  I closed my eyes, let myself focus on my breathing and sunk into a space of easy, centering calm.

Then I straightened up the mass of papers on my desk, made a few notes for tomorrow, and walked out into the late afternoon, mellow and relaxed.

The rain had stopped and a blanket of newly fallen maple leaves beamed in the afternoon’s muted light.  What a difference that little breath of kindness made for me, I thought.  How beautifully it ushered me into the remainder of my day.

Mixed with the joy of life, suffering.  Mixed with the beauty, pain.  Walk gently in the world, my friends, and be slow to condemn.  You cannot tell just by looking what agonies your neighbor’s heart bears, what thorns have pierced his soul.

Wear your kindness on your sleeve; keep a packet of comfort in your pocket.  Be ready to extend a hand, a word of condolence, a gesture of grace.  Tomorrow you could be the one in need, longing for a word of understanding and reassurance.

But today, while the sun shines on your path, while the breezes are fair, look on the world with a sweet compassion and let your life exude the fragrance of  a faith that knows, in the end, love reigns and all will be well.

Except, perhaps, for getting in touch with your feelings of genuine gratitude, nothing opens your heart to happiness like acts of kindness—both given and received.

There’s a magic to kindness, to selflessly reaching out to another living being with a spirit of helpfulness.  It creates warmth and expansiveness within us; it uplifts us and inspires.

It’s as if time stops for one lovely moment of connection.  “Here,” kindness says, “let me ease the way.”

Kindness acknowledges our essential relatedness.  It lets us remember, however briefly, that we are not alone, that our journey here is a shared one.

Touch someone with kindness and both you and she feel its gentle gift.  Give it away and it feels so good you want to give more.  Receive it and you want to pass it on.  And more than that, just seeing it in action is enough to move a passerby to be more kind himself.

Kindness brightens and comforts, and lightens and lifts.  It makes us feel bigger and more real.  It’s born of happiness and shares its contagion.  And every act of kindness, large or small, makes the world a more beautiful place.

That’s power.  Connect with it.  Pass it around.  Go ahead: make somebody’s day.

Somebody told me about a happiness-generating game where you pick a “best of” category each morning and then keep your eye out throughout the day for a winner -   “Most Beautiful,” “Kindest,” “Funniest,” “Most Interesting Fact,” “Best News” – and I decided to play.

Forsythia against a deep blue sky won my “Most Joyful Sight” contest today, hands down.  The sheer brightness of it sent my spirit soaring.

But here’s the really interesting thing. Although I was on the lookout for joy, I found myself noticing contenders for other “best of” categories as well.

A story my co-worker told me about a happy ending to a situation at home qualified as “Best News.”  The “Kindest Act” happened when I spotted a nurse tenderly wiping a tear from the face of an elderly woman in the lobby of our clinic.  “Funniest” was the sight of a huge, happy dog running down the street pulling his little boy, who struggled mightily to keep up at the end of the leash.

And so it went.  The game kept me so alert for goodness that my entire day turned into a celebration of its superb little moments.  I came home with a whole heap of them to enjoy when I reviewed my day.

Play along!  Pick a “best of” category yourself every day for a few days.  See what happens.  And if you’re of a mind, pop in and share what turned up for you.