The Gift of Kindness

"When I was young, I used to admire intelligent people; as I grow older, I admire kind people."
Abraham Joshua Heschel

This quote by Herschel touches my heart so deeply. In the past month I have had the priviledge to work with senior citizens on a daily basis - to play with them, laugh with them and cry with them.

They have been my teachers and my friends, my employers and my playmates. From them, I have learned so very much in such a short period of time, but the most important lesson of all has been the simplest - kindness. For when you give kindness, you receive kindness. The giving is a gift as much as the getting.

And it can be so simple a thing, kindness. A gentle hand, an assistance down a hallway, someone to listen as you tell a story, or someone to empathize as you cry over a memory.

Allow the gift of kindness to intrude upon your busy lives - let it come into your heart and bless your spirit. For kindness is an amazing gift of the spirit and of the heart - one that we all possess and can all share, if we choose to do so. Make the choice.

Making Time

As we enter into the time of early harvest, and hard work towards the main harvest at the equinox, we can tend to lose sight of the every day little things. We hustle and bustle to bring in the first fruits of our labors, to make sure we fertilize and water those crops still growing in preparation for the harvest to come in September - eyes always on the work, on what needs to be done, on the preparations for the long winter that is looming, just out of view, but never out of our heart's mind. That long winter when we will only have what we reap now, and what we can manage to accumulate now.

And so we run about, hilly nilly, completely oblivious to the simple pleasures we enjoyed just a scant few weeks ago, when our pace was slower, our minds more still, and our playful side more active. Now we are the parents, seeing to our responsibilities, making sure all is in line.

Is it right to deprive ourselves some small joys - to not step back, not even for a moment, and breathe in the smell of wet grass after a dewey morning, to relish the redness of a ripe tomato on the vine, to scamper with the animals through the forest and into the cooling of the river?

So many times, we compartmentalize our feelings, our desires, our needs. Now calls for this, later will call for that - don't act up now, there's too much to be done or we won't make it later. The dreaded chant of "Act your age."

Yes, our work now is crucial to our survival through the dark times - of that there is no doubt. But if we allow joy into our work, if we let the giggles and laughter of the summer permeate the skin of our labors now, won't the harvest be all the more sweeter for it in the end?

I for one am making time for a scamper or two - how about you?