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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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