Two profound experiences in one week have my head in a whirl.
The first, though simplest to say, may end up being the most complex to explain. Except that I can’t explain. I listened to S-Town.
W-o-w. No spoilers here, so let me just say that I will be moving forward through my life newly determined to act on needs I see, large or small, to tell people I care about them, and to live a life I love. “Eff it” does not just have to be an excuse for not thinking before we act. We can make our “eff it” moments our chance to see, to care, and to act out of love.
There’s a large quantity of existential depression in S-Town and I wrestle with that at times. It’s felt personal lately, but I have to say that, flaws and all, John B’s huge heart and the many varied windmills he tilted at, large and small, have inspired me to see, care, and act. And to do it out loud, so I can join in with other people doing the same. That way, none of us faces dark thoughts alone.
And my second profound experience came from someone who probably couldn’t even pronounce existential depression, but still managed to see, care, and act…to help me.
I take the most amazing fitness classes, led by someone who loves her work and attended by all kinds of folks, all shapes, sizes, and ages. One of my best friends has recently started coming and, since preschoolers are welcome to play during the class—or join in!—her toddler has, too.
On Wednesday, we set up for a drill involving punching bags. Since gloves were optional, I opted to go barehanded—it makes me pay attention to my form! The other students all geared up in gloves and we got started. Halfway through the drill, this sweet little guy toddled up next to me, holding a glove up over his head, offering it to me to use.
Tears in my eyes, I thanked him and—sure enough—he pattered all the way across the gym, got a second glove from the box, and brought that one to me, too.
He. Is. Two. Two years old.
A two-year-old boy watched five people do something and noticed four of them had gloves, but one did not. He thought it might be important, so he went and got gloves for the fifth person. He saw, he cared, and he acted.
Granted, my friend is raising a house full of amazing children, but if her two-year-old can do it, why can’t we?
We never know how far small acts of caring will carry someone. I may not have needed the gloves, but I sure needed the caring.
See. Care. Act. Just do it.
|My virtual 5k coming up--a small act, but I will be running for so many reasons!|