These days, it’s not uncommon to feel emasculated as
citizens of the United States. It seems all our “leaders” can do is snarl and
snipe at each other. Random acts of violence are common. People with hate in
their hearts, or perversions in their minds, strike out and kill for no
apparent reason. What we once believed in, perhaps with naïve innocence, all
seems up for grabs: truth, morality, honor are now all relative (perhaps they
always were), and voting appears to be nothing more than a scam, a shell game
in which those with the quickest hands get to garner the most votes regardless
of how the electorate actually responded.
Given
the current environment, it’s understandable that many of us just throw up our
hands and say “The hell with it!” It’s all broken. We scurry back to our homes
and hide, perhaps go to sleep earlier than we used to just to disassociate
ourselves from the apparent insanity rampant outside our locked doors. When we
wake up in the morning and as thoughts tumble in, we sigh and say “There’s
nothing I can do about all of this.” We might say to ourselves we will no
longer look at the televised news, no longer read newspapers or magazines, no
longer listen to the radio or get locked onto the Internet, clicking and
clicking and clicking – we will, to the best of our abilities, become hermits,
encase ourselves in whatever womb we can successfully construct, assume the
pre-natal position and hope, one day, that, somehow, there will be a better
world out there, outside our locked doors.
I
acknowledge there’s nothing I can do about what’s happening in Washington,
which seems as if it is currently populated by ferrets. I acknowledge there’s
nothing I can do to ease the suffering in the trouble-spots of the world. I
acknowledge that I can’t cure cancer or eliminate child or spousal abuse. So,
it would seem, I am left with no options – nothing I can do -- a workable
definition of despair. But there is something I can do.
Kindness.
Little gestures. No, they won’t change the world but, oddly enough, in little
ways, they will change yours, and in so doing perhaps you won’t toss and turn
so much at night.
Holding
open a door for someone. It takes a second or two, and the person often says
“Thank you” and you say “You’re welcome.” Simple, but you’ve created a little
wave of curtesy that may ripple through that person’s day.
Slowing
down and letting someone into the right lane of the freeway. No big deal. So
you get to where you’re going five seconds later, but often that driver will
wave, a visual “Thank you,” and perhaps two miles down the road, he or she will
let another person in, who will wave or perhaps flick the car’s lights in
acknowledgement. Perhaps kindness and little gestures are progressive, they
multiply.
I was
in a supermarket a month ago and was pulling out a cart (those metal structures
on wheels that tenaciously want to bond with each other) when an elderly woman
started tugging fruitlessly on a cart. I gave her my cart, which certainly
didn’t make me a candidate for sainthood, but she looked at me, smiled, and
said. “Thank you.” So, today I was in the same store, tugging at a reluctant
cart when a man came up, pulled out a cart from another line and offered it to
me. I said “Thank you,” and as I walked off into the aisles I paused…and
wondered. Had a ripple from a wave I had created just lapped back onto my
shore?
I
can’t defeat hate. I can’t defeat cruelty. All I can do, in my small way, is be
kind, be generous, be, when appropriate, humble. All I can do is embrace the
humanity swirling about me and believe that these human beings, often so sorely
troubled, just need a little kindness, as minor as it may be. I have found that
when you are mean, when you’re spiteful, when you do not hold open the door but
stride in to be served first, because you deserve such service, your soul gains
just a little more weight, and if it gets heavy enough, it can no longer fly…it
sinks into an abyss. However, when you hold open the door, your
soul sheds a few ounces, and if it loses enough weight, it soars.
