we said thanks…oh, yes we did
February 5, 2012
photo by Sandra Culp Marr
I love it when a mission is so simple and small that it holds its own kind of beauty and unexpected power, maybe it is the kind you just stumble upon. I think when we connect to our most basic shared humanity, magic always unfolds. Two weeks ago, we invited folks to join us in thanking Garbage Collectors around the nation for their important work and place in the world…and boy, did you ever. Stories and pictures came tumbling in each day.
The kind people at GOOD helped spread the word, kids in schools all over made cards for their garbage man and school custodians, and lots and lots of people passed the word on to family and friends. The mission traveled further than any we have ever done…and while numbers aren’t totally in yet, we are estimating close to a 1,000 friends joined us.
Some garbage friends were so busy they didn’t even see the signs, others stopped and chatted, some even came back to thank us…and now more than ever, we are longing to be connected in new and meaningful ways. Kindness is growing bigger and moving faster than I have ever seen..it’s so, so good.
Thank you for being part of this with me…and thanks to all our new garbage collecting friends, we are grateful for you.
And a special thanks to Vejay, Lionel and Joe for taking the time to talk to me and inspiring this mission, we hope you know and feel our respect.
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a place all my own…
February 2, 2012
I shared a room (and usually a bed) with my sister for my entire childhood. The only time I ever had my very own room was for the one year when my little sister left for college and I still lived at home right before I got married. I was a child bride at 21 (well, almost 22) and have shared a room with my man and often 2-3 children at any given time for the last 14 years.
There was that stint where all 5 of us had what we affectionately called the “MTV Cribs bed”, it was two queen beds on platforms pushed together with pillows with each of our names on them. It was so cheesy, sweet and so weird. We ran somewhat of a toddler frat house where kids stayed up all hours; we all laid in bed and talked in the dark until we fell asleep every night. And then school happened and the party was over, we resigned to a routine and became responsible parents. Even through all this over the years, we usually all end up in the same room, no matter how much space we have.
This may explain why everyone was so disturbed 2 days after Christmas when I climbed up into the loft to clean.
“Mom! What are you doing up there?” someone small said from the bottom of the stairs.
“I’m cleaning this place out so I can have a studio!” I shouted down.
“What’s that?” she shouted back.
“A studio is a place of your own just for your art and work.” I replied.
“Mom, you don’t need a place of your own, you have us! …and your bed.” she said.
“Exactly! That’s exactly why I need a place of my own!” I said.
And the rest of the day, I cleaned and organized, dragged an old door out of the shed, found some old sheets and blankets. I asked Jorge to help me get the dusty door up to the loft.
“You’re gonna do what?” he said.
He laughed when my next request was for him to carry up an old tree stump two flights of stairs.
2 days later and 2 strands of twinkle lights, I had the prettiest little studio you ever did see. It doesn’t matter that you can barely stand up in the attic, it’s just perfect. And I spent a whopping $6 to make it all happen.
After all was said and done, I climbed up into my nest and the full out family revolt started. Every 10 minutes for the first 48 hours, some one came in to plead their case. Each with their own strategy.
“How’s it goin’ up there?”
“I miss seeing you mom, are you coming down?” (this was 20 minutes in)
“Mom, do you think we should have some girly time all together up there, because I can come up, no problem.”
“Mom, I made a picture to celebrate your studio! Want me to come up?”
“Are you gonna stay up there all day?”
“MOOOOOMMM! I neeeeed a drink!”
“Don’t you wanna watch a movie with me?” (the largest member of our family, who shall go unnamed)
And I held strong, and I kinda missed them (like the tiniest bit), and I realized how productive I am, and remembered I am a clean person, and I sat in awe of the silence when everyone finally settled in…and two weeks later I was working in bed again, but just a little, because it’s just nice to know you can have a place all your own, family revolt and all.
Please tell me in the comments if you have a studio (give us link to a picture) or if you don’t, what dreamy space are you planning in your head? It can even be a Pinterest dream studio- it all counts. I’d love to hear all about it.
a family of love and lost jackets…
January 28, 2012
It was a two hour trip to DC. I was just praying we would narrowly miss the Friday commuter traffic. It was a cousin weekend and the kids could barely contain their excitement because we all know, there is nothing better on the planet than cousins. They are like siblings but with out all the drama and everydayness. Not to mention the meet up and drop off point was IKEA, this meant meatballs and gravy while watching School House Rock and sitting on a bright green ergonomically correct chairs.
We rolled up to the family parking and started to pile out of the car. Jack hopped out with no jacket on and hands dug deep in his pockets, it was about 38 degrees.
“Jack! Where is your jacket buddy?” I asked. There was already that tone in my voice.
“I don’t know, I thought I brought it!” he responded acting shocked.
I don’t really know exactly what happened after that moment but a rant of sorts started. It wasn’t really yelling, it was the kind where I made him feel like total crap for this forgetfulness. I knew it was not just about this moment. It was the four jackets lost before, the four Columbia jackets I had so proudly found at the thrift store, the 57,000 reminders to put on a jacket, to pick a jacket up, the pleading to hang it on the perfectly designed mud room/station hook to make it easy, it was the whole entire spring when this child was three and jumped in every puddle known to man, it was old…and A LOT.
As it was happening, it was almost as if I was out of my body looking down on myself. I knew it was wrong, I could feel it…but I just could. not. stop. This may have only been about 4 minutes of ranting but it felt like 100 minutes or maybe a 1,000 to Jack. I muttered something about everyone getting back in the car and we were going to buy a new jacket.
And then she spoke. That Lucy girl.
“Mom, I am gonna tell you something right now.” Her voice calm but firm.
“Mom, we are a family of love, and you are being too harsh on Jackie-boy right now, and it hurts his feelings mom, it is just a jacket mom, just a jacket. …and jackets don’t matter mom, love matters and I just gotta tell you that.”
And I turned around and looked at Jack, his eyes watering, having just been rescued and righted by someone so small yet so wise, and said,
“You are right Luce. You are right. I am sorry Jackie-boy.” *big sigh* “Oh dear.” and that was all there was to say.
And I felt like a total jerk and so proud at the same time…because on some level there was space with these dear souls for rants, love and truth telling.
We bought a new jacket and I held it as he slid his arms in.
“Maybe you guys are so good, all that is left to complain about is stupid jackets.” I said while I hugged him so tight. He hugged back even tighter.
And two days later, he opened the car door at the car pool line and said, “Oh mom, I know it is some where…” his brow furrowed and eyes wide. I sighed and half smiled, because there is this sort of surrender and calm that comes after the freak out has finally been released.
and because…
We are a family of love, and lost jackets.
guerrilla goodness: the great day of garbage gratitude
January 23, 2012
What do you think the most thankless job in America is? I had my own idea but decided to take an informal poll among friends, family, and of course Facebook. It turns out, garbage collectors won by a landslide. I can’t say I was surprised. From Thanksgiving to Christmas, we create an additional one million tons of waste, which is a whopping 25% more that our collectors have to pick up and haul away.
These are people that are part of our lives, in our backyards or front sidewalk, taking away all our decay, the stuff we don’t want or no longer serves us. Yet even though these guys are in my living space every week, I really had no idea what they might look like or what their names were. I started to wonder so I woke up early one Friday morning and waited for them to roll down my alley.
I must have looked like a total loon waving my hands and carrying my camera but they stopped the truck and hopped out at my back gate. I introduced myself while Vejay, Lionel and Joe pulled off work gloves to shake my hand. We chatted for a moment and I told them I was interested in doing a kindness project for garbage collectors. I asked them what kind of kindness they thought was needed.
Joe leaned against the garbage can and said, “You know, we just need a little respect.”
“Yep, pretty sure everyone needs and deserves that, huh?” I replied.
“Yes, they do. Yes they do.” Joe said.
The kindness mission was sparked. What could be a more lovely and simple message of respect than saying, “I see you, I value your contribution to my community and I thank you.”?
Sometimes it is the smallest act of kindness that makes the greatest impact on a person. Meeting a basic human need may be all it takes to make a change. All I could imagine was Joe lifting can after can with notes of gratitude attached, throughout an entire neighborhood, maybe even a whole city.
So I asked the kids in my daughter’s kindergarten class if they would like to join me in writing thank you notes since they had just been learning about community helpers. The kids were stoked to take the mission on and the kindness started moving. Word traveled and seven more schools wanted in.
awesome thank you note from the kids at Patrick Henry School of Science and Arts
Here is the kindness mission, if you would like to join us:
1. Write a note of thanks to your garbage collector sometime from now until February 3rd.
2. You may want to include a gift card for coffee from your local coffee shop or gas station.
3. Attach it to your garbage can on pick up day for your collector to find.
4. Take a picture and send it to patience@kindnessgirl.com or upload it to our Guerrilla Goodness Flickr pool.
5. Tell us in the comments what city you are from so we can see how far our garbage gratitude is traveling. If you invited your school to join us, let us know the school too. Some schools are including their custodians in on the thank you note kindness too!
6. Hit the Facebook or Twitter button below to share or like…we all know Facebook and Twitter rule the world!
Can you imagine if there was a wave of gratitude across an entire nation? Garbage collectors may get kicked off the top of that most thankless job list. I imagine Joe would be just fine with that.
this week…
January 20, 2012
well, last few, but you know…or maybe the last 3 weeks.
strangers, bears and kindness
January 12, 2012
(sooooo…Huffington Post asked me to blog for their new Good News section. I know, I know, I get to tell kindness stories…swoon! So here is part of my first post below. Likes and shares would help keep me around over there and be much appreciated. I wish I was one of those cool writer types but it’s more of a total performance freak out over here, but I think this is the learning I invited friends! Dear people are offering to help proofread and edit me, there were lots of kind, encouraging words, all things I need to help me take these learning risks. It also helps when you get to write about people like Sarah and Greg.)
I am kind of in love with strangers, the conservative business man in the three piece suit on the metro, the old lady who cuts my fabric at the craft store, the traveling hipster kid dressed in skinny black jeans with the straggly dog.
On any given day, I have at least three memorable stranger experiences. I am not sure why or how, it may just be in my genes. My childhood was filled with memories of my mother having heavy, deep and real conversations in three minutes flat with the checkout girl and toll guy.
Maybe it is the allure that we are connected for just a moment with no past or future to hold, or realizing that there may be less danger in “stranger danger” after all. The simple idea of breaking social boundaries to reach out or offer something to people we don’t know often reveals all kinds of things about humanity we never imagined…
you can read the rest here.
more is more…
January 6, 2012
in 2012…
may there be…
more living room dance parties
more couch diving
more hiking
more sunshine in general
more pie
more produce picking
more art (lots more)
more learning
more dog piling
more quiet moments being held
more kindness
feel free to ask the universe for more and add your list in the comments…because more is more.
the year of learning…
January 3, 2012
I have never been so clear as to what a year should hold. I start every one with a, “I think 2011 will be even better than 2010…” and some years this was true and others, well, not so much. I never exactly have any idea how they will be better, I guess I just hope they will, that I will not repeat mistakes, or that I may be another year older, or that I have some new hope, idea, or plan brewing…
but this year, I know I am walking straight into a learning year. Not the the intuitive, slow, safe kind that I really love and live by but the down and dirty, LOTS of work, putting it out there, taking risks, pushing past kind of work. In some ways I get this sort of invigorating and dread feeling all at once…it’s probably exactly where I should be. In the middle.
…and the beautiful part is, I don’t think I’ve ever been this brave to take it on before, and yet I am still scared shitless- I am fully aware the suck part is coming too and well, there is no other way to go- except through, suck and all…but here I go.
Chances are, I will discover kindness, in a new place I haven’t been, hiding in a crevice somewhere, or keeping me afloat.
Care to join me?
What learning would you do if you could find the courage? or I wonder if the courage is already there, waiting for you.
I watch this, almost every other day to keep me going…oh, how I adore Ira.
this week…
December 26, 2011
well, last week, but you know…
feel the light…
December 24, 2011
Merry Christmas to you all…hoping a kind light finds you and those you love this night.
I am so very grateful for your care, joy and love for me and my family this year, your kindness changes everything…may it be returned ten fold.
love,
patience
guerrilla goodness: the ukulele carolers
December 21, 2011
I love to sing…I have just an okay singing voice but I don’t even care. When I was a little girl, I sang for hours with my my grandfather, mostly from old hymnals. I have spent days, maybe even years singing the Sound of Music, pretending to be Julie Andrews. If you invite me to a sing-a-long, I will just melt.
When I hear other ordinary voices of those who love to sing like me, I feel this sort of kinship…like we must be soul siblings. I felt this with my best friend, Jennifer Lemons, (a.k.a. The Checkout Girl) from the moment we met, even before our many shared obsessions were discovered.
And then she played the ukulele at her show…the everyman instrument…and all I could think about was what that did to my soul, the strumming, hearing her voice. I thought the whole thing was magic. I thought about it every day for a week.
at the end of the week, I got a text from Jen- I think we should go caroling, with the ukulele.
And that was it- it was all I have wanted to do, all Christmas season long.
Because Christmas is so hard for so many, (jen and I included)… it’s hard because everything, your whole life gets compared to something during this time, our memories are on the big screen, or you are stressed figuring out how it will all get done, or because you want to be close to someone, or hold tight to something during this time, you miss your family, or the idea of family, or your family is broken, because all the holes feel bigger, because you wish you had something to give the people you love, or you are aware just how broke you are, or you feel sort of desperate, or you are just trying to keep it all together, or trying to awkwardly love people by not being all of yourself, doing the family dysfunction dance, or are sort of lost or holding loss… and we do our damnedest to shake it…and I wish this wasn’t all true or I was just being dramatic, but I am not.
And we find our way through this season, we do. We see all the beauty we have, we try not to think about our pain and hardships, we give, find a way out of ourselves…we press on. But there is something real and true in simple things, and simple invitations of love, of old songs being sung to you.
So here is our offering of holiday love to you, especially to those who need some soul care right about now: Jen and I, along with our ordinary voices and her magical ukulele would love to come to you, on your doorstep and sing to you.
(or maybe there is nothing heavy at all and you just love a good round of jingle bells- we’ll take that too!)
We will carol to the first 8 friends from Richmond, Virginia that e-mail me at patience@kindnessgirl.com at an undisclosed time in the next 24 hours. I will let you know when our quota is filled! Don’t worry if you don’t live in RVA, there will be something for you too in the next few days!
Much love to you from Jen and I…all of you!
this week…
December 17, 2011
well, last week, but you know…
“No matter what the world, cruel world does to you, never lose your faith. If you don’t know what you believe for your self you’ll be what every one wants you to be. God bless you. “-JS
given to me by a very, very kind drunk boy (stranger kindness) in a bar years ago…
we are connected…
December 16, 2011
“I thought when you girls grew up you would just have happily ever after sort of lives…” my mom said on the phone one day. “I didn’t think you would have struggles, I just never thought about it I guess. Nobody tells you that…” she went on…
And then it occurred to me, I felt the same way. I never imagine my children will grow up to face hard things. It sounds almost silly to say it out loud because of course they will…but somewhere, somehow, maybe I thought I was carrying it so they wouldn’t have to. That if I tried so hard…to figure it out, to lay a path of love that they could just walk it with no harm to any part of their minds and hearts.
The ridiculous thoughts of mothers…even mothers that know there is great beauty and love in hardship, that finding our way through pain helps us really see the world and know we are alive, that kindness can find us anywhere, that each step, even the screwed up ones take us to a new place of understanding, that our joys are as great as our sorrows, that this is the human condition, that this is where we find and hold the light.
Then a few days later while putting up Christmas lights, Christmas magic descended on this mother…Lucy gave me a new perspective, something else to hold on to.
She will often randomly wish me a “Merry Christmas MOM!”, while brushing her teeth, or eating an apple or right before she shuts the car door to go to school…I wonder why we all don’t do this, like everyday of December is Christmas.
While we were stringing lights, just she and I in the dark one night, her Merry Christmas struck again.
“Merry Christmas Mom! The lights, the tree, the snow, the hot chocolate, the sledding, the love…Merry Christmas for ALL of it mom!” she proclaimed.
“Oh Luce…what a girl you are.” I replied.
“We are so connected mom.” she said very matter-of-factly while she fed me the strand of lights and I wrapped the tree.
I thought she meant the lights, my literal-teacher mind kicked in, but I threw in the deep, you know, just because that’s where I live in my head.
“We are, aren’t we? In so many ways.” I answered.
“We ARE mom, we are so connected, even in trouble, even when I have trouble! We are connected right?” she said.
“It’s true. Especially then.” I said.
And it was clear, there is no protection from life, even she knows that…but there is a love that can buoy us…and there is a shout of a Merry Christmas in the most mundane moments…
there is a place…
there is a way…
that we are all connected.
the message tree…
December 10, 2011
“Do you think you can keep on going, I mean you made Thanksgiving dreams come true?” I asked him. We cooked the entire meal together, were up on butterball.com on various phones trying to figure out exactly what you do to the outside of the turkey, we high fived when everything was suprisingly and ridiculously perfect with the meal and family togetherness.
“Let’s go for it! Push the family magic odds…we are on a roll and everything…”
You know, there is always this sort of holiday valley after those peak Everest magical moments…or rather a holly jolly nose dive into everything real. This was the Christmas tree excursion:
1. One of us, who shall remain nameless, was not exactly excited about the whole chopping-down-your-own-tree thing in the first place….but he/she went along with it.
2.The battery was dead when we got into the car to leave. Yet we weren’t thwarted, onward!
3. It was almost 3pm, the farm was an hour away, children still hadn’t even had lunch…yes, bad idea and parenting all around. So we stopped to grab food and crossed our fingers we could still make it before it got dark.
4. Kids were delirious upon arrival, the trees were sweet- although Charlie Brown-ish in nature, but still, this was just fine with us.
5. Jack and Josiah played tag until Jack’s shoe flew off and he stepped on a sharp twig or old tree stump- crying ensued.
6. Lucy begged/pleaded/whined for a tree nobody wanted.
7. We finally found one everyone liked except Josiah. Josiah also reminded us how often he has to suck it up- which is totally true so we decided he should get to pick the tree.
8. He picked a lovely, lovely tree…except when Jorge (the nameless) went to chop it down, he found a giant pile of dog poop.
9. Everybody laughed…because poop is funny.
10. We missed the memo that a kind tree farm friend would help carry the tree back, so Jorge carried it (along with 3 helpers that made it much harder) all the way back.
11. Got the tree measured and went to pay- tried not to faint when she told me the price- didn’t realize the fir trees were twice the cost of the rest of the trees. I smiled and gulped and told myself it was small business Saturday. Jorge whispered, “Merry Christmas!!” in my ear.
12. Kids got cider but there wasn’t enough and it burned Jack’s tongue. Everyone was now hungry for dinner even though we had just had lunch and on we went. Jorge said he would buy dinner to cheer me up.
13. I sighed/groaned like Marge Simpson and somehow soaked in the beauty of the pink sky on the way home…and managed to capture it from the moving family grouch mobile.
When we got home, I climbed in bed, ignored children, watched Hulu and slept. When I woke up very early, I found the tree in the corner with lots of tiny papers all rolled up and stuck in the netting. I opened each one and found little bits of art.
It was Lucy art- little post-its of sweet Christmas scenes, apparently her Christmas and tree experience was very much intact, still magical mountain stuff or maybe she had just moved on to the next moment. So I drew some pictures and messages and stuck them in the make shift tree mail box. We passed them back and forth for the next few days.
Part of me wished we could just leave it all that way and never open the tree up…but we did…and it was magical and messy and magical.
world aids day 2011…
December 2, 2011
I cried like a baby…I could barely even take pictures. I was so overwhelmed by so many gathering, people that are walking the HIV/AIDS path, the people that love them, and those we were remembering. There is something so powerful about a gathering of great kindness and compassion, the solidarity of standing together in love.
To know that you are not alone or forgotten…that even in something so dark there is hope. And I could tell, each person there, the 400 holding umbrellas held a story…and when you are in the middle of 400 stories representing a million more of people all over the world, you are also standing in a very great love, one that is palpable and surreal.
And you sort of start saying a quiet prayer in your heart that everyone could feel this. That the very person petrified to test would know this kind of love is waiting for them. And I know not every city can promise this, but my city can, because of the Fan Free Clinic and stories like this:
From a friend living with HIV:
My first statement is that living with HIV has been my blessing!!!!! By far the most challenging thing in my life! I have been so very blessed to be here, even though I have been positive for well over a decade, I am not your usual sleeping around type of guy, I infact was sexually assaulted by an ex partner. And still did not know for almost a year after. I will state that I chose a different route of feeling sorry for myself and blaming everyone, even though till this day I never cried about it. I choose to use drugs as my security blanket. But I am here to tell you that GOD and family does wonders, I went from having 9 t-cell and well into the millions in viral load to undetectable and healthy as a horse. My fight against HIV has been hard and I still have a long way to go….but instead of considering myself just living to die… I am dying to LIVE!!!!!! There is so much more I want to tell you I just wanted to give you some sort of idea of what to write….its all about HOPE. And also the LOVE I have experienced from my current partner who I see as a tree when I was in darkness and shadows lifted me in his branches and let the sun shine on my face….. I am me I am HIV positive I am here and I am NOT going anywhere!!!
There are really no words to totally capture the day…but the kind people of Big River did a really beautiful job telling the story.
I don’t know how to be anything but mushy and weepy about all this…and so proud. SO damn proud to call this place my home and these people friends and members of my community. I am humbled and honored to stand beside you.
Thank you to Richard Corbett and Julie Sulik for allowing me to be part of this amazing project and their incredible vision and heart, to Darlene for being my friend and sharing her story with me, to my new anonymous friend for sharing stories and more to come, to John Jessie for holding great heart space for change, to Kevin Clay who is a world changer in every way, and to the Fan Free Clinic for showing me what it looks like to really care for people, all humans, with dignity and love.
this week…
November 30, 2011
well, last week, but you know…
I am so looking forward to RVA Remembers tomorrow…hope to see you there.
in case you forgot…
November 29, 2011
how awesome it is to wear sparkly things and the first time your mom let you try make up on…
what little hands do…
November 28, 2011
pastels on bark
A crack and a thud left a huge limb on our sidewalk on Thanksgiving eve. I love how trees can just drop what is no longer serving them. As we were picking it up to move it, the kids started gathering the fallen bark. They noticed some really cool patterns on the inside of the bark. I went in to get some pastels and paper to make rubbings, but when I delivered them to the kids (which now included the neighborhood kids too) they just started coloring the bark instead. I think the best kid art unfolds on its own.
hearts are everywhere
The kids then decided to ding dong ditch their art which sounded like a great idea to me but may have been confusing to the recipients to open the door and find a piece of bark on your step, but you know…our neighbors are probably used to the crazy and random acts of even weird yet sweet kindness by now.
So I’m thinking if you are trying to get something done, like the list of 57,000 holiday to-do’s, some bark, leaves, rocks and pastels might be just the trick to keep little hands busy. I love when nature, art and kindness collide.
a few of the urban nature artists
Got any other simple kid projects to share?
the introvert’s dream thanksgiving…
November 27, 2011
“You mean NO one is coming over?” he asked.
“Yep!” I replied.
“And we aren’t going anywhere?” he said, clarifying the entire plan.
“Nope!” I answered.
“It’s going to be just us! Niiccceeee.” my dear introverted child said. Some times I wonder how that poor child survives in this family.
I have to admit part of me was sad, I missed cooking with my mom and sisters, being with friends, but there was this kind of deep relief also. This was the Thanksgiving when:
When your mate helps you make the turkey (and the entire meal) and for the first time in Thanksgiving history the bird was juicy, done on time with zero stress. He made Thanksgiving dreams come true with the togetherness.
When your child decides 2 minutes before dinner that he must come to dinner as a pilgrim and is rifling through boxes in the basement to turn halloween capes and a pirate hat into a suitable and proper costume.
When you have to tell little girls that they can not slurp the very exciting treat of blue Gatorade served in vintage green goblets with spoons and straws at the dinner table.
When you got ding dong ditched the most amazing pumpkin spice cake which sort of saved the day because the pumpkin pie you bought molded and you were already bummed you had to buy one in the first place. This cake dominated 73% of conversation the rest of the weekend just trying to figure out what was in it.
When laziness rules.
When you all go to see the Muppet Movie and cry over endearing Muppets and your childhood.
When you realize the amazing and very beautiful family love and connection you hold was born and has grown from an old and deep pain, and you feel kind of grateful and sad for this all at the same time. …and how you can always count on the holidays to bring such epiphanies.
When you know how deeply you are blessed and loved.
Oh, please share your holiday with us…what were your highs and lows? even better, give a link or a picture. This extrovert would love to know in the comments…
this week…
November 24, 2011
well, last week, but you know…
happy thanksgiving friends…hoping you are feeling full and happy today.
when the dark blooms and sings…
November 23, 2011
I go to her work to be reminded of everything true. She has a magical way of showing it to us, even the things that are hard are full of beauty. Her honor of living all of life is palpable and rich. I am honored to have my dear friend Cynthia Henebry share her art and life with us today.
This guest post is for Patience, in honor of the darkest time of the year. Darkness is essential to our noticing the light.
And find that the dark, too, blooms and sings
And is traveled by dark feet and dark ways”
Girl in the woods
Brothers’ hideout
Looking for stars
After the bonfire
Early winter moon
Cynthia Henebry can be found at www.cynthiahenebryfilmphotography.com and also on flickr at www.flickr.com/photos/cynthiahenebry.
the perfectly imperfect…
November 22, 2011
I don’t even know how I found her, maybe she found me or I saw her on twitter, but I instantly fell in love with her. Her work, her life, her writing, her graffiti…this is my kind of girl in every way. Erika Ray is one of those people you just wish was your neighbor, because you know you could sit at her kitchen table and spill your guts while we ignore children that are deep in lego play in only their super hero underwear.
I was so stoked when she agreed to guest post for me…thank you new friend. I am so grateful for the art of you and your perfectly imperfect life.
From Erika to you:
Comparison is evil. Isn’t it? We all do it. We all wish we didn’t. It’s sort of like the last drink at the end of a big party. You know it’s going to hurt in the morning, but you still tip it back. Comparison makes you feel like your life could be better if things were just different.
My house isn’t big enough. It’s in the wrong neighborhood. Our schools are awful. Why don’t my kids behave like her kids? Clearly she’s a better parent. Why can’t my youngest fall sleep at 7:30 p.m.? It must be because she’s better at discipline and I’m a push-over. Why can’t I make more money? How does she do all of that stuff when I can barely clean the spit-up off my shoulder? Shouldn’t our son be reading at this level? Their kid does. I need that camera and I’ll be as good as he is. Etc., Etc., Etc.,
As I’ve gotten older, I feel like I’ve learned something really valuable. Don’t do it. Comparison – not the last drink (haven’t learned that yet). When you play the comparison game, you lose. You’ll never even come close to winning. But life isn’t a competition. In my opinion, most of life’s goodness is about being happy with what sits in front of you. It is what it is. You have to find the goodness even when it’s crappy, or less than beautiful. Because aren’t most days pretty ordinary? And if you spend those days comparing your life to someone else’s, you miss out. Your life isn’t your neighbor’s, SIL’s, brother’s, friend’s, model’s, mother’s, or even that crazy blogger’s. If you fall into the comparison trap your head is stuck in a future that will probably never happen.
Photography has taught me to slow down and capture life’s ordinary moments. Appreciate what I have. Not all of it is pleasant. There are days I wish my kids didn’t tantrum. There are days I wish my dog didn’t eat grass and then throw it up. There are days I wish we lived in a better neighborhood. But for the most part, photography allows me to find the beauty in what has been given to me.
Golden light at the end of a crappy day.
The tears from my son because he desperately wanted show his independence.
The beautiful light that lives in my bathroom.
I try really hard to accurately showcase the beauty of my life. I try to write about life in a way that is completely honest and just hope someone can relate. And I refuse to only share the most pleasant moments of my life. That might lead people to falsely compare their lives to the version I decide to share. That isn’t fair. My kids don’t always say “Please”. My youngest jump-stomps when he’s really mad. And more often than I’d like to admit, I give in. My husband and I argue more than we should. But I believe we’re normal, happy, and completely loved by our family and friends. I hope that my photography inspires people to find the beauty that lies in their own walls. Because believe me, it’s there. You just have to stop comparing and put your current life on the pedestal it demands. It is what it is. You own life is badass. Find, show, and live in its beauty.
Erika Ray blogs about her perfectly imperfect life at Erika Ray Photography. You can find more photos of her bathroom light, shopping excursions, and more ordinary acts on her Facebook page. And follow her random, sometimes snarky tweets at @erikalray.
the space between…
November 21, 2011
For the past several months, there has been no space between anything…kids, work, unexpected life lessons, kindness, travel, revelations, loss, all of it seems to keep coming. At moments it has felt like there was no space to even take a breath. And the joy and work of new opportunities for kindness has all been so worth it but my mind, body and heart are simply exhausted.
So I said no, yes! (but later) and I’m not sure because I need a rest…all new territory for me. It was tricky but I am taking the rest of the week off…don’t worry, you are in very good kind hands. Some lovely friends, new and old will be bringing their own light and beauty to Kindnessgirl this week…I know you will enjoy.
Can I just tell you how grateful I am for you though? Thank you for lighting candles and passing on missions and loving me and my messy self and family so well. There is so, so much gratitude to reflect on this year for me. It makes me want to be quiet because I’m not sure there are words. Jorge, the kids and I hope you are feeling the same way this week, that you know deep in your bones that you are loved, that a family in Richmond, Virginia will be thinking of you and your family, counting you as one of our blessings, in the midst of our lazy pajama wearing Thanksgiving.
xo,
patience
I’m still here…livin’ with HIV
November 21, 2011
I never even asked her what her last name was. I was so lost in her story and the bright light and kindness in her eyes.
“People need to know Patience, especially black women, HIV is still out there, they need to hear our story…we need to take care of each other. Women are afraid, they are scared….especially black women, they don’t have to be afraid, this is my life. I have to keep growing, we can’t stop living because we are HIV positive…”
We sat on a cozy plaid couch in a quiet room at the Fan Free Clinic. If we had a cup of tea, it would have felt like we were in her living room but it was the testing and counseling room. I thought of all the men and women, families, mothers that had sat on that couch, alone or with hands clenched tight with a loved one, waiting to find out if HIV would now be part of their lives and future.
Darlene told me how she prayed while she sat crying on a brick wall at 3am by herself one night, hearing the police coming, not knowing they were coming for her.
“I prayed to God, ‘Please God, please take this taste from my mouth, please, if you do, I’ll never do drugs again’. God bless those police, they took me in.”
After that night, Darlene spent 2 years in a city jail and graduated after 2 years in drug court, a program designed to helps folks struggling with addiction. It was during her drug court time that she found out she was HIV positive. Shortly after she found her way to the support and love of the Fan Free Clinic.
I was struck by her gentle strength and resolve. I asked her how she found her way through.
“This is not a death threat…I still can love you and you can still love me…I cry a lot, I pray to God, ‘It’s just you and me with this virus…I am gonna love on people’. You don’t have to be alone with this virus, just hold on – Life is gonna still be there- and you just gotta love on people…I am still here.”
HIV is still here.
Darlene is still here.
Life is still here.
And love is at the bottom of everything.
I couldn’t help but think of all the people that are still searching for what Darlene knows, all the women and men that have yet to discover what real love looks and feels like it, how it can heal your soul…and all the women that Darlene is holding in her heart, the women she hopes will hear her story, those at risk with new and stronger strains of HIV finding it’s way back into ALL of our lives and communities, whole groups of people forgotten… it is time for us to remember.
I am so honored that I will get to stand next to Darlene and so many others on World AIDS Day, December 1, 2011. I would like to invite you to join me for this amazing act of kindness on us all.
From www.RVARemembers.com:
On December 1, 2011, something truly breathtaking in its simplicity and power is going to happen in Richmond, Virginia. At precisely 12 o’clock, 400 red umbrellas will pop open on an island in the James River to symbolize a recommitment to education and prevention and hope. At that exact moment Richmond will lead the Commonwealth and the nation in saying, “30 years is simply too long.” We will remind our neighbors near and far that the fight is not yet won and that complacency and indifference are taking precious lives. At precisely 12:00 o’clock, we will unite, reinvigorated, in the battle against HIV/AIDS.
If you would like to know more about purchasing an umbrella, volunteering or even just standing with us, visit RVARemembers or follow all the latest on the Facebook and Twitter pages.
guerrilla goodness: grocery store good
November 18, 2011
a turkey love bomb
I looked at the archives… “Do you know I’ve been ‘tired and overwhelmed’ in the November posts for like 6 YEARS?!!” I told him. “I’m sorry, THAT must have been exhausting for you.”
But can we help it really? The season is beginning, it is equal parts overwhelming and wonderful. I have dear memories of cooking many a Thanksgiving turkey with my sisters and mom (we always named the bird) and at the same time being so very fried, me, not the turkey. We have so many expectations around the holidays and lots of family goodness and dysfunction, and a helluva lot of work. We want it to be special and meaningful (dare I say, magical?) and I can’t even imagine how the retail folk feel at the end…I wondered if there was a mission in the middle of all that somewhere…for everyone.
So Lyra and I went into our local grocery store and post-it/kindness bombed it…with all the things I could imagine that mothers, friends, stock boys/girls, the last minute Melvins may need to hear…or know. We thought you may like to join us.
It’s pretty simple, here goes:
1. Grab a pad of post-its.
2. Write encouraging messages to harried mothers, tired checkout girls and strung out foodies…any kind message will do.
I am grateful for all you do.
You can skip something, the holiday will still be sweet.
Your mashed potatoes are the best I’ve ever had, thanks for making them every year.
All the little things you do matter.
It’s only one meal with your crazy family, you can do it.
Your turkey will be FANTASTIC! ( and not dry at all)
3. Take the pad to your local grocery store and stealthily leave them all over the store- extra points for iphone pics. Or just tell us what city and store has been kindness bombed and we’ll mark it off the list.
4. You have from now until Thanksgiving day and send pics to patience@kindnessgirl.com or post them on our Guerrilla Goodness Facebook page.
I can’t wait to see your holiday kindness in the midst of love and craziness and a mean green bean supreme!
Please share this link on Facebook and let’s see how many stores we can hit!
gratitude…
November 17, 2011
today….I am grateful for…
spotlights and stories at the dinner table
ukeleles and a dear friend’s singing voice
for a total lack of creativity pushing me to rest
knowing that I am loved more than I can ever really know
for kind neighbors that show up with homemade peanut butter cups and friendship, and other kind neighbors that can feel you even on the other side of the street
for one unexpected quiet day with my man
that the years (and sometimes hard work) of babyhood are behind us leaving new space for kid/family adventures
for the epiphany that gratitude can make her way into all the cracks of life, making us whole
…been thinking a lot about gratitude the last couple days, wondering what you are grateful for in the world…I think there may have been a few things I forgot- feel free to fill in with your own gratitude in the comments.
by the moonlight…
November 14, 2011
So I was telling a friend in an e-mail today… I have these sky lights right over my bed and sometimes when the moon is full and the sky is clear, the light actually wakes me up…and what a way to be woken up in the middle of the night. It feels like nature wants me to stay up with her and whisper secrets to me, and it takes a while, showing a sliver more each day but eventually it is whole….I am always overwhelmed by it….that the light can be so clear, so big, so great, it can even rival the dark.
…and I am awake.
kindness changes everything…
November 10, 2011
Feeling so fragile these days…that usually happens when something is changing in me, or I see something I haven’t really noticed before…about myself, about the world.
So now, more than ever I see…
how much I still struggle wanting to be something I am not…
how all this is so much more than a project or missions…(even though those things are really, really good)
how I have a hard time defining or explaining any of it, because it is so deep…I usually just start to cry.
how at every turn I realize how deeply kindness has me which can be equally parts torturing and amazing…
some times I wish it was just something small, something simple, made for mass appeal, but it’s just not, I am not…
how this call is everything…
how i know on every level that kindness changes everything, but I didn’t realize all along, kindness is changing me.
…and all of that is really good, but feels a little hard today
your kind thoughts would be appreciated…
from the water she came…
November 7, 2011
The family love was thick that night…no one wanting to miss one single moment. I was touched by her grace, his great love, the delight of her sisters, her powerful entrance into the world from the water…it was beautiful. Thank you Monique and family for allowing me to capture it…
you can see the rest of this sweet, sweet birth here…thanks so much to Monique for being willing to share.
this week…
November 6, 2011
well, last week, but you know…
spoken words of truth, dancing, kind notes, long days waiting for a very loved papa, saying goodbye…
Can you do something for me this week? If you are doing or have done some kind of kindness as a result of something on KindnessGirl, can you tell me what city you are in (in the comment section)? You don’t even have to tell me what, just the city is fine (but we love a good story if you have the time! 
) I’m trying to figure out how far and wide we are spreading this work…and kindness. Have a wonderful week!
