kindness

A Rough One – ND #117

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Is That a Bat Signal in the Sky? – Photo: L. Weikel

A Rough One

Last week seems to have been a rough one for a lot of people. I’m just tossing this observation out there in case anyone felt it or perhaps noticed it being endured by others. Perhaps it’s just a buildup of all the awfulness we’re witnessing all over the place, and especially in Ukraine. Or maybe it’s a result of the past two years of Covid and strife. Maybe – just maybe – it’s exhaustion.

I know many people who are doing their best to just hang on, hang in there, or otherwise maintain a façade of chill. And for whatever reason, maintaining that fragile balance is especially challenging at the moment.

Spring

It feels to me as if this new season of spring is speeding everything up. It’s as if our rollercoaster ride has, over the past couple of months, been tick-tick-ticking its way up that first really steep hill that’s usually at the very beginning of the ride. The one that, when you breach the top and gravity zooms you down and creates a momentum that takes your breath away over the next several zigs, zags, and centrifugal-force loops, you sometimes find yourself asking yourself why in the world you paid good money to experience this.

If any of us are feeling that subtle sense that things are really going to start heating up via unexpected revelations and other exposures of truth and intentions, it’s possible we’re also just a teensy bit on edge over what the reaction to those revelations will be. Yes, many crave accountability. But there’s also the faction that may or may not accept that reckoning peaceably.

From Micro to Macro

What I find fascinating is how we are seeing the very same themes playing out in our own neighborhoods and school districts, in the way our states treat their citizens, to the entertainment industry, and all the way up and out to how entire countries are behaving around the world. Abuses of power. Over-reactions. Blatant lies and gaslighting. People beseeching authorities for accountability or, at the very least, an acknowledgment and attempt to address and rectify the abuses – and terror at what those who may be held to account for their behavior may do to the rest of us. We are in fear of their spoiled tendencies to lash out when they are caught hurting the rest of us (or the world at large).

It just seems like we’re getting tired of allowing the bullies and tyrants to get their way. What kind of a life is it to look the other way when abuses are taking place all around us? What kind of a life is it to keep pretending everything is normal, when right before our eyes it appears as though the ones that break the rules rule the day?

I’m not sure why I’m writing this except to say we need to stick together. Last week was a rough one. This week may be worse. No matter what, though, we need to stand up for what we fundamentally believe is right and true. And we need to be especially kind to ourselves and one another in the days to come.

Because from the smallest encounters to the greatest, it will be the kindness we display that will be the ‘bat signal,’ if you will, that we’re both sending to and answering for each other.

A Break in the Gloom on the Horizon – Photo: L. Weikel

(T+117)

Kiffel Christmas – Day 775

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Partial Plate of Kiffels – Photo: L. Weikel

Kiffel Christmas

Yuletide 2020 will forever be remembered as Kiffel Christmas. I know, I know. I wrote about my intention to bake kiffels how many days ago? Eleven?

Well, I’m relieved to report that I’ve finally managed to get those babies baked. Today – of all days. And given the length of time it ended up taking me to roll out those little balls, fill them, and bake them, I realize the unconscious wisdom I exercised in saving the endeavor for a day when I basically had no other obligations.

In my defense, I rolled the dough into little balls and had them resting in the refrigerator, contemplating their destiny a good four days or so ago. It was finding the time and dedication to completing the task that took some juggling.

Of course, because I commandeered the oven for this long-slog of a task, we decided to wait a day to roast our yuletide turkey. I have to admit, I’m looking forward to our last wave of turkey sandwiches for the year. We only roast two turkeys a year: one for Thanksgiving and one for Christmas. Hence we only indulge in turkey sandwiches twice a year as well.

Eye Roll

I have to say, I’m rolling my eyes at the fact that I’ve obviously ceded access to my keyboard to my gastric senses. But they’re primal. I’m incredibly grateful for the roof over my head, the heat emanating from our fireplace, and the comfort in my tummy.

I guess I’m especially appreciative of our good fortune right now. I’m acutely aware of the blessing it is to be able to bake kiffels, roast a turkey, and contemplate having enough leftovers to feed ourselves for a week (and even share some, to boot).

My heart goes out to the millions of people who are facing staggering hardships right now. Sickness, hunger, sadness and fear – and perhaps worst of all, the dark jaws of hopelessness. There’s nothing I can say or do or write that will ease their burdens. And it almost feels obscene for me to engage in the banter I do.

Love and Gratitude

But all I know is that the overriding feelings I want to convey today are love and gratitude. Love for the people and opportunities that fill my life. Love for the efforts of so many in my world to make a difference in people’s lives. Love and appreciation for the smiles and kindness I see in the eyes and on the faces of so many, even though I know for a fact their hearts are heavy with burdens.

There’s so much goodness in the world.

We may be pushed in the next several days and weeks especially to buy into the proposition that we can’t trust anyone who doesn’t look like or think exactly the way we do. We may be exhorted to think the worst of everyone we encounter.

It’s in times like these that we need to focus on those smallest of blessing around us. A cookie baked by a neighbor. The warmth of our blankets and the softness of our socks. The kindness and respect shown by people we don’t even know when they stand more than six feet away from us and wear a mask – the twinkle of a smile still visible in their eyes – just because they care about you as much as they care about themselves.

We need to focus on the littlest things right now because they are, in truth, gigantic and life-affirming.

Be well, my friends. Sending you all a virtual kiffel and a hug.

(T-336)

My Heart Hurts – Day 568

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Silence is Violence & My Heart Hurts – Photo: L. Weikel

My Heart Hurts

You know from my recent posts that the slow, deliberate, and unwarranted killing (murder) of George Floyd in Minneapolis one week ago today – on Memorial Day – has haunted me. And of course I know I am not alone. The depraved manner in which that police officer coldly and nonchalantly pressed his knee onto the back of Mr. Floyd’s neck until his life was snuffed out felt like a straw that broke our country’s back. My heart hurts.

I only heard about the protest scheduled for the center of Doylestown (Bucks County’s county seat) at 11:00 a.m. this morning, but Karl and I managed to get there by the appointed start time of 1:00 p.m. The crowd seemed to still be growing over an hour and a half after the protest began.

Taking a Knee – Photo: L. Weikel

Taking a Knee

I have to say, I had a hard time joining in on any of the chants. Every time I opened my mouth to raise my voice in protest, that voice failed me. It cracked quite pathetically as I was overcome with a depth of emotion that welled up within me. I felt overcome by the enormity of the injustice and cruelty that’s inflicted on our fellow Americans, just because their skin is darker than mine. How utterly absurd.

One of the most powerful moments, for me, was when the crowd of over (at least) 100 people collectively took a knee and simply held several minutes of sustained silence. It seemed as though even the traffic was muted. The silence was eerie and profound.

A Lovely Moment

I happened to look behind me at one point and was given the gift of witnessing a lovely moment of helping hands and kindness. I’ll let the photo speak for itself.

Loving Helping Hands – Photo: L. Weikel

Support and Solidarity

As traffic continued to flow through the center of town, the vast majority of cars and trucks honked their horns and waved their hands in support, eliciting applause and whoops of solidarity and hope from the protesters filling the square and lining the sidewalks along both sides of Main Street and Court Street. (By the time we left, I’m pretty sure there were at least 200-250 people in attendance.)

And then we engaged in the part of the protest that was, without question, the most profound for me.  Everyone who was able chose to lay prone on the cobblestones or concrete before them. We assumed the position that George Floyd was forced to endure and we maintained that position for 8 minutes and 46 seconds. Many of my fellow protesters called out, “I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.”

“I can’t breathe” – Photo: L. Weikel

I Wept

Yet again, I found myself incapable of joining in with my voice. Instead, I will admit it: I wept. Hot tears flooded into the Covid-mask I wore, and I did indeed find my breath stifled and thick. But the sadness. The sadness just rocked my body as I allowed myself to even for one moment imagine the depth of Mr. Floyd’s fear and pain and disbelief that his life would end in that moment. For what? For nothing. While passersby yelled for his murderers to stop, the pressure continued. Unrelenting. Until it was over. And even then, the pressure continued. Just to make sure, I guess.

Why? Because he was black. Because he was at the mercy of those with the power. Because they could.

The wanton abuse of power in our nation must end. We must use our power to establish much needed and long awaited justice. Vote.

If you live in Pennsylvania, and you haven’t already done it by mail, exercise your power today (Tuesday, June 2, 2020) – and especially in November.

Vote! – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-543)

Not Fair – Day 516

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“She took my bowl” – Photo: L. Weikel

Not Fair

Sometimes life’s not fair.

Good grief. If that’s not an understatement of the century, I don’t know what is.

And of course, images and knowledge of the hell so many are enduring right now spring to mind almost without bidding. Fairness? There’s very little ‘fairness’ in anything we see playing out around us.

And so, of course, I am not invoking the suffering of so many of our brothers and sisters, neighbors and friends, and the many people we don’t know, have never met, and probably will never encounter in our lives – those who are either suffering acutely from Covid-19 or are trying to help those afflicted survive it.

Nope. I’m going for a scootch less serious here, folks.

Always the Puppy

I took the photo above this evening after I witnessed Sheila, who is blind and deaf and over 15 and a half years old, hone in on a bowl of icing I’d put on the floor in front of Spartacus. (Not a full bowl, of course. How could you even imagine such a travesty? No, just a bowl ‘to be licked.’)

Sheila was asleep. Spartacus got a few licks in – maybe three – when she opened her rheumy eyes, raised her unsteady carcass, and lurched across the room with a single minded focus that was impressive, I must admit.

Spartacus didn’t know what hit him. Well, yes he did. Sheila immediately grasped the solid, hefty glass bowl in her determined little mouth and pulled the bowl away from Spartacus, who had his face fully immersed in it. He didn’t growl; but neither did he yield. He stuck with it for another couple licks, but Sheila would have none of it.

Or rather, she would have all of it. She dragged it halfway across the room, this bowl that’s so heavy there’s no way she’d be able to lift it. But she dragged it far enough that he got the message.

And that’s when I snapped the photo. His look said it all. “She took my bowl. I’m sad. But there’s nothing I can do. She’s my mom.”

Good Boy

Karl and I told him what a good boy he was for sharing, even if it wasn’t entirely voluntary. And we paid extra special attention to him, which in Spartacus land, is every bit as sweet as any icing he might score. Plus, we knew he’d gotten in a couple good licks – that was why I’d given the bowl to him in the first place. I knew Sheila’s sense of smell remains unerring – and her love of icing may only be eclipsed by her passion for ice cream. I knew she’d be on it like lightning, no matter how deep in Dreamtime she might initially be.

We show love in so many ways. Whether we’re humans or canines, a little bit of patience, a choice to be kind or generous, a gesture of compassion. Every time we show or do any of these toward another, we make life here on Earth a little bit better.

So before you say or think, “Not fair” today, may you give a nod to Spartacus and share your bowl of icing with those you love the most – with nary a growl nor a grudge.

Yin/Yang – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-595)

For You, For Us – Day 446

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Photo: L. Weikel

For You, For Us

It’s been a week.

Actually, I’m pretty sure we can all agree the ordeal’s been going on for far longer than a week (and will undoubtedly spin out into the foreseeable future). But this week, in particular, has been especially brutal. And this evening’s climax, albeit both predictable and foreseeable, was nevertheless searingly disappointing. And deeply worrisome.

A Respite With and For My Friends

While I was noodling around FB a little, contemplating what I might write this evening, I came across a ‘share’ from a friend of mine that shifted my perspective. It immediately made me think of you – the people with whom I share myself, my thoughts, my joys, my worries, my peeves, and my devotion.

Right away, I knew I wanted to share his share that shifted my spirits, with you. Why? Because of this truth: a joy shared is magnified exponentially, just as a sorrow shared is halved.

What I find especially fascinating, though, is that I call this man who touched my heart with his FB share my friend. The truth is, we barely know each other. I live in Pennsylvania, he lives in Salt Lake City. We met eight years ago and spent maybe ten days total in each other’s company in Iquitos, Peru. We’ve not seen each other nor spoken since the end of February, 2012.

We rarely, if ever, communicate directly, even though we’re FB ‘friends.’ But FB does give us the ability to stay in touch tangentially. And one of the greatest blessings, for me, are the thoughtful and often fascinatingly beautiful or poignant posts he shares. They’re often insightful in some way, provocative of a different perspective, or simply loving or peaceful.

This friend I made eight years ago when I was in the throes of grieving for my son makes a difference in my life. His posts often touch my heart or make me think or perceive in a different way. And yet, as I said, we (he and the eight or so other people in our group) only spent a total of a little more than ten days together- albeit ten intense days.

The Briefest Encounters

My point is that the briefest encounters can make a huge difference in our lives. Kindnesses, smiles, words of encouragement, gestures of hope…they make a difference.

We make a difference.

Here again is the song my friend Brock shared on FB this evening that shifted my perspective. I needed to hear it. I bet you do, too. I hope you feel what I did when I listened because we need to carry on and not lose our heart.

It’s all right – we have each other.

Photo: L. Weikel

(T-665)

180 Degree Attitude Shift – Day 398

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The Turkey Distractors – Photo: L. Weikel

180 Degree Attitude Shift   

I had an interesting evolutionary experience yesterday. I underwent a 180 degree attitude shift as a result of a most unexpected encounter.

Yesterday afternoon, I ran out to the grocery store to pick up a few items. As I made my way home, navigating the puddles of rainwater accumulating on the asphalt and feeling the weight of the creeping fog that matched my mood all too well, I found myself behind a Bucks County Transport Company bus, it’s blinking yellow light caroming off the droplets of water suspended in midair.

The bus had slowed to a stop to allow a neighbor’s disabled brother to disembark, backpack clutched to his chest, his steps carefully measured so as not to lose his balance. His sister, a person I consider to be a passing acquaintance (quite literally, since we really only know each other from when she and her husband jog by us as we take our walks), was standing just up the driveway, waiting to greet him with a wide smile and open arms.

I felt so privileged in that moment to witness such unadulterated and spontaneous love and kindness.

A Moment Disrupted

My appreciation of that moment was jarred out of place by the revving of an engine immediately behind me. Looking in my rearview mirror, I saw a massive pickup truck looming over me, pulled up so close that its headlights were barely visible. It revved its engine again, and I could sense that it wanted to swing out into the oncoming lane and pass both me and the bus ahead of me, but was being forced to stay behind us by approaching traffic.

The impatience was palpable. The judgment, too.

But the bus resumed its route just as the oncoming car went by, and sealing the pickup’s fate of having to remain behind us was the approach of a second car in the opposing lane.

Just down a piece, my road splits off from the main thoroughfare. The bus bore left, remaining on the primary road, while I took the offshoot leading to my home. Regrettably, the gigantic pickup followed me. It continued ‘up my butt’ until I pulled straight into my driveway just to get out of its way. Unsurprisingly, its engine gunned as the impediment to its haste (yours truly) was removed. It tore down my road, far exceeding the 30 mile an hour limit.

It Must Be the Season

As I started writing this post, I realize that the attitude that clicked into gear in my head at that moment was not all that far off from something that happened last year.

You guessed it. When the pickup revved its mag engine yet again and sped down my road, I just had to see where this jerk was going. I backed out onto my road and started following the truck. We went about three quarters of a mile, with me keeping a decent enough distance behind that I was in no danger of being perceived as following. I saw where the truck coasted through a stop sign and turned off onto another road, but as I approached that same stop sign a flock of about 12 turkeys burst out from the left side of the road, crossed right in front of me, and landed pell-mell on the wooded bank above me.

Well, I could not let this opportunity pass. I stopped the car, turned on my 4-ways, and got out, all the while talking to the turkeys and thanking them for the gift of their presence. I told them how much more fun it was to be encountering them than chasing after some jerk.

Even More Gifts

As I took the photo above, I heard a couple muted gobbles and turned back to where the dozen had emerged. I was astounded to see at least another two dozen turkeys running through the leaves, down the bank on the opposite side and splashing through the creek that runs parallel to the road. They were running, half flying, and just making a total ruckus.

I was enchanted. I’ve never seen so many turkeys in one place.

Suddenly, all the turkeys that had burst out in front of me, crossing the road and breaking my determined chase after the impatient pickup started flying back across the road to return to their flock. I took a video, but it’s mostly of me swirling and twirling about, trying to catch them as they took off all around me. It was amazing and they had me laughing out loud. And the aerodynamic skills of these hefty birds (check out that photo) were, umm, comical to say the least.

And so it was that a 180 degree shift in attitude was the gift Turkey – actually a whole enormous flock of them – brought me yesterday. The delight they brought me was a reminder to focus on the love I’d just witnessed at my neighbor’s home.

Funny though – while it didn’t serve me to focus on the unconsciousness and impatience of the bully pickup, I do send it gratitude for leading me to a reminder of what’s important. Without it, I would’ve missed that remarkable encounter.

Turkey butts – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-713)

My Favorite Prompts – Day 389

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My Favorite Prompts

Following up on my conclusion to last night’s post, I hope you had a chance to go outside tonight and check out the moon.

Karl and I ended up taking another walk well past sunset tonight– thus decidedly in the dark – and once again found the moon to be surprisingly brilliant given that it’s a week shy of being full. The shadows cast by the moon’s light were surprisingly crisp as the bare branches of the trees lining the road grasped and clawed at the sky.

She’s growing in apparent size again tonight as she makes her way toward the western horizon. And the clouds are just as compelling.

I was disappointed that we didn’t hear any owls calling to each other as we walked. But I suppose it’s a bit early. I’m pretty sure it’s not until January when they start in on the call-and-response that’s played when it’s mating time.

Photos

As you may have figured out by now, my favorite prompts are the photos I take as I go about my day.

I took only one photo today, and not only did it not warrant inclusion in this blog, it also failed to spark a single iota of creative thought for me to extrapolate upon this evening.

I have to laugh at myself, actually. I may not have gleaned a creative thought from that photo – but I did manage to excruciatingly wring a couple sentences onto the page describing how it failed to inspire me! Guess I should give credit where credit is due.

The World

Perhaps it’s the fractious angst of the events unfolding in the world right now that’s making me want to close my eyes and escape into the dreamtime.

Perhaps it’s my background in the law and my love for the fundamentals of our government and legal system that makes the high drama of what’s unfolding before our eyes so compelling to me – and so personally exhausting. I feel as though most people in our country take our system’s resilience for granted. Everybody (for the most part) assumes it’ll survive. Assumes we’ll  survive.

And ordinarily, I would say we would – and we will – except these aren’t ordinary times.

All of which leads me, I guess, to appreciating the need for us to bring our attention back to the little things again.  Back to the kindness. Back to creating miracles for ourselves and the other people we’re bumping into along the way.

Actually, I do have a couple stories brewing. Hopefully they’ll mature soon. Or rather, hopefully I’ll start telling them before my eyes simply refuse to stay open one minute longer.

Have a wonderful day – and know that I appreciate you taking the time to read my posts even when they’re hopelessly mundane.

(T-722)

Kindness – Day 387

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Waterfall Along River Road – Photo: L. Weikel

Kindness

Never underestimate the power of kindness.

Especially right now.

There is so incredibly much static and discord in the air right now, it’s amazing that anything is getting accomplished by anyone. Of course, being a person who cares about politics and what’s going on in our country, I’m keenly aware of the fallout from the daily barrage of awfulness that seems to bubble out of the White House like the relentless onslaught of The Blob*.

But there are everyday worries and stresses that seem to hang like weights around people’s necks as we slide into home base that is the end of the year. Every year, most of us find ourselves thinking, “How did it get to be December again already?” And far too many people worry about how they’re going to make ends meet while trying to make these short, dark days a bit brighter for those around us.

Yet again, the power of kindness makes itself known.

Traffic Head

The past couple of days I’ve noticed how grim most people’s expressions are as they go about their day. This is especially obvious when you make a point to notice the people driving in cars all around us. The expressions on most people’s faces can be utterly dour. I call it ‘traffic head’ – in my head – because inevitably, they are caught up in their thoughts, crossing stuff of their mental lists, worrying about when they’ll fit in baking their cookies, or trying to decide the best place to put the Christmas tree this year so the cat doesn’t climb it.

I readily concede that I don’t ride around with a smile pasted on my face (which would be downright creepy, so I’d say that’s a plus). But I love catching someone’s eye as they’re driving toward or turning in front of me, or otherwise are close enough to be able to link up look-to-look, and breaking into a smile myself. I know; I’m odd. But if I can get them to smile back at me, I’ll admit it: my mood brightens palpably. It’s as if I’ve broken a spell.

 Beyond a Smile

And then there are the moments when we go beyond a smile and commit an active act of kindness.

Just as most people are unaware of the ‘resting bitch faces’ they’re exposing to the world, they’re also often oblivious to the opportunity to offer small kindnesses. For instance, I’ve seen people walk right in front of others in the grocery store, just cutting them off and not even saying a quick, “Excuse me!” (with a smile).

I’ve also stood in a grocery store line, packed to the max with my ‘up to 25 items’ carefully counted out (or even rounded down so I’ll ‘qualify’) and notice someone standing behind me with a bag of chips and an iced tea. I love offering to allow someone to go in front of me, especially when they least expect it.

A Personal Note

And then there’s the completely out-of-the-blue act of kindness that is so unexpected it keeps a smile on your fact throughout the day.

As you may have guessed, this is the situation I found myself in this morning and which prompted me to write this post.

Before heading off to my appointment, I was sitting with Karl having a quick cup of coffee and pulling cards for the day. While Karl was getting grounded and shuffling the cards, I checked my email on my phone. And that’s when I saw it – a note someone wrote to me about my blog.

This was a note from someone I’ve never met, who’s been reading my posts after stumbling onto my website. I was delighted and completely surprised.

Kindness

The fact that she took the time to actually sit down and compose an email to me was an exquisite gift of kindness. She could easily have just read my posts and moved on, not making a mark or a comment or any effort to reach out in any way. Or she could have “liked” my post or even made a brief observation about it wherever she saw it (on FB or Instagram, for instance).

But no, she went the extra mile and tracked down my email address and sent me an email. She told me a little bit about herself and expressed what she enjoys about my blog. And that – that kind attention to detail and appreciation for my dedication – put a smile on my face, a bounce in my step, and I am sure gave me an even brighter outlook with which I met with my client later that morning.

We May Never Know

And that’s what I mean about how we may never know how our acts of kindness may be the source of miracles for others.

I’m going to close this out by encouraging all of us to be aware of ourselves, our surroundings, and the creatures with whom we’re sharing space. Be it in a parking lot, a grocery line, or at a doctor’s office: see if you can coax a smile out of someone. Hold the door for someone. Let someone go in front of you in the grocery line. Offer a parking spot to someone who arrived at the one you want a few seconds later. (No. Wait. That may be taking it too far. I’d have to re-think that…)

Look for the beauty. Drop a note. Be the kindness. Never underestimate the power you have to break another out of their churning worries or lurking loneliness and help them see they’re not alone in the world. There are smiling faces. We are surrounded by kind-hearted people who want nothing from us but a momentary connection. A confirmation that we are seen.

*Fun fact I never realized until this moment: The Blob is set in the towns of Phoenixville and Downingtown, PA. I had no idea!

(T-724)

Messenger – Day Thirty Six

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Messenger

I’m thinking perhaps the Medicine Cards®took pity on you today, my wonderful 1111 Devotion companions.

My last two posts have been sort of on the intense side, and may have actually ruffled a few feathers. That’s especially true given what I might characterize as Pollyanna-ish lenses through which many people look upon prayers and ‘good intentions.’

But lucky for you, I chose Hawk with Deer underneath, so this message carrier is going to take a more gentle approach today. (I hope.)

Indeed, I wasn’t sure what message Hawk was bringing me when I chose and read it this morning. One interesting possibility that presented itself was when one of my readers sent me a message letting me know that she chose Hawk reversed today, and didn’t that contrary description of Hawk contain the very word I’d focused on in yesterday’s post? Tampering. Yes it did. So being astute, and having that somewhat odd word show up in her experience two days in a row, she definitely felt like she needed to pay attention. Well-spotted!

The word was used in the context of Hawk being the message carrier and therefore needing to focus upon and remain dedicated to its job: delivering the message. Its charge is not to ‘interpret’ the message for the recipient, because obviously, everyone perceives life through the filters of their own thoughts, feelings, and experiences. So when the messenger puts their unique spin on that message, they are tampering. For it is entirely possible that they could be way off base and sending the recipient into a spiral of confusion.

I’d forgotten that that particular word is used in Hawk reversed – and I probably wouldn’t have remembered it this morning had Janice not called it to my attention, since I chose, and thus only read aloud to Karl, Hawk upright.

As my day unfolded, I found myself feeling overwhelmed by end-of-year responsibilities. In beginning the process of reflecting upon my accomplishments during this year, I found myself wanting. It seemed as if everywhere I looked, I was coming up short, and I even started questioning just what I was doing with this blog and this 1111 Devotion.

All of this took me somewhat by surprise.

Deer to the Rescue

And then I realized that I needed to apply a little Deer to myself. I take the responsibility of being a messenger (Hawk) very seriously. I talk a good game, saying that I ‘know’ there will be days that my posts won’t deliver a compelling or even entertaining message. But I hate the thought.

Deer underneath, though, had perhaps foreseen that I might take the downward path of self-criticism today – and was telling me to go easy. Don’t be such a harsh critic. Be a little kind to myself.

It’s not always easy, is it?

(T-1075)

Turkey Day – Day Eleven (T-1100)

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Turkey Day

Funny.  I never call Thanksgiving “Turkey Day,” but here I am titling my blog post for today “Turkey Day.”

I didn’t eat turkey today, nor did I even see one (either in the wild or on a platter).

But I thought of turkeys today – and the meaning of Turkey as conveyed by my beloved Medicine Cards – and in spite of myself, kind of felt a little sad.

One of the paragraphs in Turkey goes as follows:

“Spectators unfamiliar with the cultural phenomenon of the pot-latch or give-away ceremony are often mystified by it. A tribal member may gladly give away all he or she owns, and do without in order to help the People. In present-day urban life, we are taught to acquire and get ahead. The person with the most toys wins the game. In some cultures, no one can win the game unless the whole of the People’s needs are met. A person who claims more than his or her share is looked upon as selfish or crazy or both. The poor, the aged, and the feeble have honor. The person who gives away the most and carries the burdens of the people is one of the most respected.”

What’s Mine? Yours? Ours? Theirs?

There’s a lot of focus these days on what’s ‘mine,’ what’s ‘yours,’ what’s theirs,’ and what’s ‘ours.’ And there are a lot of people claiming an astoundingly greater portion of a lot of our resources than could even remotely be considered their ‘share.’

And I will be the first to admit that I do not consistently embody the spirit conveyed within this paragraph. I don’t even come close. But I aspire to do so.

And I wonder how much better so many people in the world would feel if everyone just thought a little bit more about someone else. Not only the people who were ‘thought of,’ but also the people who do the thinking of others. It could be such a colossally ‘win-win’ of a situation.

The joy of making another person smile and know they’re loved – it’s huge. The joy of letting another person know they make a difference in your life and you appreciate them for it – can change their life forever. The joy of taking a moment to be kind, to be generous, to be patient, or to be compassionate – can make your life worth living.

Sometimes the smallest gestures, such as looking directly into a person’s eyes when you listen to them, can make everything seem a little bit brighter.

Aspire to make a difference. Smile. Be grateful. You matter.

Happy “Turkey” Day.