No kind action ever stops with itself. One kind action leads to another. Good example is followed. A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions, and the roots spring up and make new trees. The greatest work that kindness does to others is that itakes them kind themselves.
~ Amelia Earhart
Many years ago, I had an experience that would have a profound impact on my life. At that time, I was mothering my two very young children, and had only minimal time to myself. Parenting two toddlers can be overwhelming and stressful. I felt the need to be perfect; to have an immaculate home, clean and well behaved babies and elegant meals on the table every night. Because my husband and I made the choice that I should stop working outside the home, and focus on our children and house, I didn't believe that I had a "right" to outside interests. I felt that being a homemaker was my job and I needed do to it with excellence. I may have stressed myself out with my unrealistically high standards, but I did feel pride in my life. I believe that I had a good shot at success, until two major losses threw my world off its axis. The loss of my father, and of my 3rd baby a week later, were more than I could handle. I didn't know where my touchstone was. I couldn't seem to find 'center' again. I had no idea how to even begin approaching getting back there.
When these losses happened, I was somewhat shocked by the responses of a few people. While many were truly sympathetic, and others embarrassingly unsure of what to say, there were a few that were profoundly derogatory to me. One woman, whom I had considered a close friend, told me just days after my miscarriage to just 'stop being a baby and get over it'. She went on to recount her own losses, how much deeper they were than my own, and she was fine. Fine! Her comments, and others like them, said to me, "You are a loser. You have no ability to be a great person. If you can't, then you have no place in this world." Despite all the loving generosity I was shown by others, the effect of this false friend's words to me was staggering. I sunk deeper into my own despair and wondered if I really did not have what it took to be a strong woman, a decent wife and a good mother. I doubted my own beliefs inalmost everything, I doubted my intelligence, I doubted my faith, I doubted my ability to find joy again.
One place I used love to go, in the depths of winter, was a garden center's greenhouse. While the rest of the nursery lay dormant, under a blanket of thick white snow, the greenhouse beckoned, like a siren of Spring. There were tropical plants in full bloom, several water features that bubbled enthusiastically and even birds who flew about singing and delighted to have found an oasis from Maine's harshest days. I had struck up a pleasant acquaintance relationship with the greenhouse's caretaker, and we'd often chat, as we shared a cup of tea (provided by her little electric teapot) together. I never troubled her with anything heavy, with my horror at
my own inability to feel peace of mind. But, I did soak in her positive nature and her beautiful way with words. She often wore a lovely dream-catcher necklace that held small totem animals dangling from it. I had admired the way it reflected the light, and the intricacy of the design. Each part of the necklace seemed to have a significance I could only hope to guess at, and yet the piece of art it created was profound and moving, even without knowing what each item represented.
One day, I shyly offered my compliments about the necklace. I told this lovely gardener how beautiful I believed it was, my cheeks burning red from fear that I'd be rebuffed in my meek attempt to praise. What I was offering was not just my admiration for the lovely piece of jewelry, but also for this woman's unfailing, and unrequired, kindness to me. I was prepared to be rebuffed and sent on my way, as she tended to her other customers, all of whom were paying for plants, rather than just soaking in the womb-like warmth of the greenhouse. Instead, she smiled, took off the necklace and put it around my neck. I tried to protest, offering my hands up in submission to her overly generous act. But, she kissed me on the cheek and said, "You need it right now." I accepted with a sense of deep importance at the unprecedented beneficence.
I began to feel better. I started returning phone calls from well meaning friends. I started taking yoga classes. I began to eat right, exercise more and the power of feeling as if my center was returning, palpably weighing me back into balance. When I went to the garden center a month after the gift was bestowed upon me, the woman was gone. Her successor was a harsh older man who had little patience, and less understanding, for people wanting to picnic in the greenhouse without purchasing anything. I felt shock that "Eve" had been voluntarily left the garden. I also found that my beloved sanctuary was now off limits and tended to by a grumpy curmudgeon. Still, I wore the necklace almost every day for several years. I felt myself touching it often, absentmindedly and with a sense of grace. I wore it to church, I wore to yoga, I wore to the grocery store, to meetings and to the library. It was simply a part of who I was. I read about dream catchers, learning that they began as an Objibway Native American tradition, as a symbol of protection from harm. I enjoyed learning about the tiny totem animals on mine: the badger for healing, the bear for self-preservation, the eagle for divine spirit, the wolf for loyalty and the owl for insight.
Walking around the charming Old Port section of Portland, Maine one day, I looked down and noticed that my necklace was gone. In a panic, I raced around the cobblestone streets and historic brick buildings, retracing my steps. I went into every shop, recrossed every intersection and thoroughly searched the restaurant in which I'd enjoyed lunch, much to the dismay of the family currently eating at the same table. I was mortified at my own irresponsibility and felt as if I'd lost myself all over again. Despite a Herculean recovery effort, I had to admit defeat and returned home feeling very low. Still, my yoga classes were going very well, I was involved in several exciting parenting groups and had a busy, full and productive life. My slip was more into disappointment, and while still keenly aware of the loss of my necklace, I knew that life would not end because of the misfortune over its disappearance.
When I walked into "The Green Store", a healthy living center, in Belfast, Maine, a few weeks later, I couldn't believe my eyes; there behind the counter was the Gardener. I wasn't even sure she would recognize me....but she warmly greeted me and gave me a rich hug like a long lost sister. I stammered how much her necklace had meant to me, what a turning point it had been in my life and how wretched I felt when it was lost only recently. She smiled and told me, with wisdom in shining in her eyes, "You didn't need it any longer. Someone else will find it. She will pick it up and put it on, and it will make the same difference to her. It was time for you to let it go. Just do something kind to someone else someday, okay?" I walked out of the store, flushed, dazed and dizzied...having forgotten to buy anything on my shopping list. As I drove home, contemplating the Gardener's words, I wondered how I could accomplish her mission to me.
I discovered that kindness isn't hard to practice. We only need to smile at people who are having a bad day. We can hold doors for people whose arms are filled to overflowing. We can let someone go ahead of us in line. We can offer to watch a friend's child. We can bite our tongues when we want to bark out a snarky retort. We can compliment, when we feel like criticizing. We can try to work into understanding, when we feel antagonism. We can let old grudges go, when we secretly like the festering hostility within us. We can forgive, when we want to hold onto bitterness. The amazing thing is, when we begin to actively practice kindness, it's fascinating how the reactions to us can change. Although being kind doesn't mean being a doormat, repeatedly allowing ourselves to be in where we'll be treated horrendously, it can mean making a graceful exit from these situations. Additionally, kindness is easier than negativity. I have discovered that, on days in which I actively intent to be kind, my energy level is far greater. Kindness can provide a boost in energy, as well as in one's mental state.
I never did learn the name of the Gardener. I never saw her again after her final piece of wisdom to me. In some ways, I wonder if this episode in my life is a dream....a faraway fantasy of my own creation to get me through an insurmountable period of grief. Yet, I have photos of myself wearing the dream-catcher, so I have a proof that it did exist in reality, and not just in my imagination. I only wonder who is wearing it right now, and the impact it has had.
