“to live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.”
-thomas campbell, author
“to live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.”
-thomas campbell, author
this is the kind of note that we sometimes see at arrival
pinned to a child’s school bag
giving us a heads up about how things are going so far.
i think adults should also be able to wear these as needed
in our lanyards or clipped to our clothing or bags
a simple statement of fact
a quiet warning
when we arrive somewhere
no questions need be asked
just a smile and a nod will do.
—
“i really should come with a warning label.”
-tom upton, american author
my daughter and her family are prepared for pretty much anything that comes their way.
(also noted: she had just given away a lot of it and this is what was left)
keep a wide berth if you are a pirate, clown, space alien, ninja, vampire, monster or….
—
“every time I thought I’ve seen every possible scenario, something else comes up.
you just have to be prepared at every level.”
-chris hansen
In May of 2013, celebrated author and MacArthur ‘genius’ George Saunders took the podium at Syracuse University and delivered a masterpiece of bequeathable wisdom, the commencement address. A year later it was adapted in “Congratulations, by the way: Some Thoughts on Kindness”, designed and hand lettered by Chelsea Cardinal.
With his gentle wisdom and disarming warmth, Saunders manages to dissolve some of our most deeply engrained culturally conditioned cynicism into a soft and expansive awareness of the greatest gift one human being can give another — those sacred exchanges that take place in a moment of time, often mundane and fleeting, but echo across a lifetime with inextinguishable luminosity.
I’d say, as a goal in life, you could do worse than: Try to be kinder.
In seventh grade, this new kid joined our class. In the interest of confidentiality, her name will be “ELLEN.” ELLEN was small, shy. She wore these blue cat’s-eye glasses that, at the time, only old ladies wore. When nervous, which was pretty much always, she had a habit of taking a strand of hair into her mouth and chewing on it.
So she came to our school and our neighborhood, and was mostly ignored, occasionally teased (“Your hair taste good?” — that sort of thing). I could see this hurt her. I still remember the way she’d look after such an insult: eyes cast down, a little gut-kicked, as if, having just been reminded of her place in things, she was trying, as much as possible, to disappear. After awhile she’d drift away, hair-strand still in her mouth. At home, I imagined, after school, her mother would say, you know: “How was your day, sweetie?” and she’d say, “Oh, fine.” And her mother would say, “Making any friends?” and she’d go, “Sure, lots.”
Sometimes I’d see her hanging around alone in her front yard, as if afraid to leave it.
And then — they moved. That was it. No tragedy, no big final hazing.
One day she was there, next day she wasn’t.
End of story.
Now, why do I regret that? Why, forty-two years later, am I still thinking about it? Relative to most of the other kids, I was actually pretty nice to her. I never said an unkind word to her. In fact, I sometimes even (mildly) defended her.
But still. It bothers me.
So here’s something I know to be true, although it’s a little corny, and I don’t quite know what to do with it:
What I regret most in my life are failures of kindness.
Those moments when another human being was there, in front of me, suffering, and I responded … sensibly. Reservedly. Mildly.
Or, to look at it from the other end of the telescope: Who, in your life, do you remember most fondly, with the most undeniable feelings of warmth?
Those who were kindest to you, I bet.
But kindness, it turns out, is hard — it starts out all rainbows and puppy dogs, and expands to include . . . well, everything.
—
credits: Maria Popova, Chelsea Cardinal, George Saunders
no matter how tired you are
when coming into the faculty room
to grab a cup of coffee
at the start of another day
look closely at the flavorings offered
choose wisely.
what will it be today?
caramel? chocolate? or bleach water?
—
“once you make a choice, you have no choice.”
-anna chin-williams
—
photo credit: c. hull – thank you!
when playing outside
the kinder found a dead bird
they called out to everyone to come over to see it
they said goodbye to the bird and told her that they were sad that she had died
we put a circle of pretty leaves around her to keep her safe on her journey.
—
“teach them to be kind to animals and they will grow up to be kind to people too.”
-rumi