Random Acts of Kindness: A one year challenge

I know a woman who just had an important article published in the scientific journal Translational Medicine that highlighted how easy it is for people to dismiss other people as people, especially within the social media space: 1) Link to Article http://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s13142-014-0256-1 2) Journal’s Press Release: http://www.springer.com/gp/about-springer/media/springer-select/fat-chats-the-good-the-bad-and-the-ugly-comments/35816 3) New York Times coverage: http://op-talk.blogs.nytimes.com/2014/10/03/shamed-flamed-harassed-what-its-like-to-be-called-fat-online/?_php=true&_type=blogs&_php=true&_type=blogs&_r=1&

I like to get up early in the morning.  I probably would have made a good farmer given that they are always up early milking the chickens and other farmer stuff.  When I wake up, I often feel like my brain is in a calm state of purring along in neutral.  If this lasts for more than a few minutes that is a special day that should be noted on the calendar.  Like an auditorium filling with students, thoughts about my day almost immediately begin to trickle in, as the seats fill so does the noise level.  Before long, the place is packed and noisy as thoughts about the day ahead come pouring in; tasks that must be addressed, crisis that need to be mediated, worries about the troubles of people I am close to, conflicts I need to step into and help resolve, responsibilities ahead and those I left un-dealt with from previous days, not to mention my own worries, sadness, anxiety and anger (who let those guys in?). When I have the wherewithal to attend to the process of this gathering, I am surprised and amused at how rapidly I can go from being calm and centered to completely engrossed in being projected into my day and far into my past.  If this were a marketable skill, you would be seeing me on the cover of Forbes, ooohh or perhaps winning an Olympic medal for sprinting away from being anything close to in the present moment, sort of an anti-Zen award.

I have been working on this “being present” shit for quite a while.  Incorporating RAK into my days has contributed to this Damn Hippie process as I must try to pay more attention (at least sporadically), to make an effort (and it is an effort for me) to be present.

A bit of context for the random act of kindness I am writing about today. I walk my dogs in the morning (they are complete wussies when it comes to heat).  For several years, before taking on this challenge, I have tried to pay attention while on these walks; I like walking in the woods, we often see cool things like deer (Yesterday a large owl sitting in a tree which, I cannot lie, was truly awesome!!).  But no matter how beautiful the woods, inspiring the sunrise, the day ahead barges in and demands attention. Sometimes these rude intrusions occur when my brain doesn’t even have anything to say and is just being obnoxious and flexing its distraction muscles.  For example, on this morning’s walk, the children’s song “As I was going to St. Ives, I met a man with 7 wives….” was playing over and over again in my head. Seriously? Seriously?? Are you fucking kidding me? You couldn’t just enjoy the sunrise for a few moments?  St. Ives??

With this as backdrop, I want to point to a RAK from a few weeks back (Yes, remember I am so taking credit for RAKs I did in the weeks before I decided to tackle a whole year).  This was about a week after The Woman I Know had passed away. It was shortly after dawn and Etta and I were coming out of the woods and walking through part of our neighborhood.  We came upon a well-dressed woman who had just done a nice job of parking in her friend’s flowerbed. As she stood next to her car, assessing her handiwork, I said good morning to her.  She apologized for parking so poorly.  I said I hadn’t noticed (A lie) but I didn’t think it really mattered that much (A truth). We both (well actually the 3 of us because Etta stopped to smell the flowers or what was left of them) took a moment to look at the flower bed, and, in rapid disjointed sentences, her story gushed out.

Of all weird things, she was on her way to her best friend’s funeral in Philadelphia. Never a morning person, she was completely disorganized, kept losing her train of thought and just couldn’t get her shit together to actually leave town in order to be at the funeral on time.  She started crying and doing that hand-wavy-thing that some people do when they get really upset. Then she stopped crying, told herself to pull it together, then looked at me and told me she didn’t know what to do.

What did I do next?  Some heroic gesture like drive her to Philly?  Maybe go the other direction and steal her purse?  No, those things are outside the rules of RAK (not to mention just plain silly).  What I did do was tell her she was not alone in her pain.  I told her about the death of This Woman I know, her grieving husband and the large circle of friends who were struggling and hurting.  I told her that I understood how much this sucked, how awful this pain was.  I tried to squeeze as much being fully present with this person for this single moment as I possibly could. When Etta and I walked away, she called me her “angel” and said I saved her.  I laughed and told her to remember to breath.  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I am an Evil Genius, and I waited to turn the corner before doing a happy dance for completing my RAK for the day before 7:00 in the morning.

Our whole interaction lasted less than 5 minutes.  Our interaction didn’t take away her pain, didn’t fix this fucked up situation- nothing could do that.  I think it did reduce her isolation and spinning in her broken heart, even if for a short time.  I hope she thought of that moment throughout her awful day.  I have no clue if she did. For me, it was a powerful moment that has stayed with me and I continue to try to understand.

Although I most certainly wouldn’t have been rude, I would have kept walking after smiling and providing my initial socially acceptable lie-truth comment.  But the inspiration from the Woman I Know and her husband put me in a different space that morning, a space where I stopped to really take notice of another person, found them to be suffering, and then to fully be with them, even if for only a few minutes.

Maybe part of it is about not being so alone in our saddest (or happiest) moments?  Offering our courage to others who have run out because it feeds us all? And desperately hoping they will offer their courage to us when we run out of our own? I did warn you I have a propensity for the Hallmark moment and sappiness. Although, even if my words are headed for the script of a bad made-for-TV movie, I think there is something in what I am saying, something important, something that might be “true.”  Maybe this year of random kindness will help root out that “that” that my words fail to capture.  Or not.