It is You I Have Been Looking For

Kindness

by Naomi Shihab Nye

Before you know what kindness really is

you must lose things,

feel  the future dissolve in a moment

like salt in a weakened broth.

What you held in your hand,

what you counted and carefully saved,

all this must go so you know

how desolate the landscape can be

between the regions of kindness.

How you ride and ride

thinking the bus will never stop,

the passengers eating maize and chicken

will stare out the window forever. 

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness, you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho lies dead by the side of the road.

You must see how this could be you,

how he too was someone

who journeyed through the night with plans and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.

You must wake up with sorrow.

You must speak to it till your voice

catches the thread of all sorrows

and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore only kindness that ties your shoes and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread, only kindness that raises its head from the crowd of the world to say 

It is I you have been looking for, and then goes with you everywhere like a shadow or a friend.

Michelle and Ed

Ever since I found out about the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, I have been working harder than ever to make sure that every plastic bottle or bag that crosses my path gets recycled.  And even though I have been picking up litter every day and everywhere, it had been feeling like it's a losing battle.  It continues to accumulate, especially around the train stations.

I am hopeful though thanks to Michelle, a kindred spirit who lives a few blocks from me. I liked her the first day that I met her. But now I like her even more because she has made me realize that I'm not alone.

Michelle tells me that she also picks up litter on a daily basis. And that's not all. "See those flowers over there?" She points to what used to be a raggedy patch of dirt near the alley. "My neighbor and I planted those."

I then tell her about my unofficial litter patrol. The people who ask me for money on the street work with me. I give them my spare cash if they walk a few blocks with me and help me recycle and throw away litter. I tell her about how really helpful Ed has been and that I find out a lot about him as we work.

For example, he walks on the side of his feet for a reason. They hurt. A few years ago he had to jump from a window to escape a fire in an apartment building on Chicago's west side. 

He never knew his mother and rarely sees his brother. But he really likes living in our neighborhood because people help him. He's wearing new sneakers that one of the other neighbors recently bought him. 

Well guess what? Michelle knows Ed pretty well too. She and her husband last winter bought him a scarf. 

There are many more people like Ed who live on the fringes and there always seems to be trash thrown around by the train stations and bare patches of dirt where flowers could grow. 

But I'm grateful for Ed and the others who are willing to tell me their stories and help me keep our community clean. And I'm grateful for Michelle and the guerilla gardeners and all those who practice random acts of kindness. 

Acts of kindness can make you happy too. Sonja Lyubomirsky, PhD, has discovered through research that performing random acts of kindness increases our sense of well being.  

I think you'll really love this video from the Global Oneness Project.

"Wherever there is a human being there is an opportunity for kindness." 

Seneca