Gentle Gifts

It would be wrong for me to say I expect kindness, because the fact is, I don't expect it. Some people might, but I don't, and so when it comes my way, I am always deeply touched, moved to tears, heart warmed. I guess, I expect things to be hard, and for people to be indifferent, if not mean. Just the way I am.

But when kindness comes, I treasure it. The acts, the words. A driver who stops and lets me cross. A friend who drives 2 hours simply to lend me a book she thinks I will benefit from. The check out girl at the market who expresses concern at me carrying a heavy load of groceries home. A teacher in high school who took the time to treat my poetry as the gift it was, and helped me try to get it submitted for publication (and honestly commiserated with me when it wasn't). A friend's mom who consoled me with kind words and a cute card when I lost a school election that she knew took a lot of courage for me to even run for (and my own mother never even commented on any of it). I found an unexpected gift from a friend today, a bag full of thoughtfully chosen goodies given to me simply because she loves me, and knows I have been having a rough time. A woman at church goes out of her way every Sunday to find me and hug me and press her cheek against mine. Another acquaintance says, "Yay!" and shows the thumbs up sign every time he sees me. Kind words, well wishes, gentle actions, common courtesies, even. Lights in the murk to remind me I really am not that bad a person. I hold these lights in my mind for as long as I can, and I examine them again and again, like splendid and brilliant pieces of gleaming treasure. I turn them over and over and around again, examining them carefully from all sides, memorizing their details.

I even got some unexpected kindness from myself this week. I came home early one afternoon, not feeling well, and I stayed home the next day too. I allowed myself to not feel well without kicking myself in the ass for not being perfect. I allowed myself time to rest and renew, I gave myself permission to stop trying to hold the world up on my shoulders in fear that my life will all come crashing down and people won't like me anymore if I don't. And with that time, that space, that rest, came a realization: that when I despise myself for being ill, for not being perfect, for being depressed and tired and sad and then deny myself the care I need, I do to myself what my parents and the X used to do to me, and I feel shamed all over again for having needs. I re-create that raw emotional pain and it sears me and tears me up inside and makes everything harder than it already was.

And you know what? I am not going to do that to myself anymore!

Or as a friend said, after I shared this beautiful revelation with her: Be a happy train wreck. God will still love you.

Talk about unexpected kindness.

Until next time, I remain, your friend, Rozenkraai

('Trippy Petunias' photo by Rozenkraai)