Kindnessgirl

Sometimes when the cheesiness of my writing starts to nauseate even me, I head on over to this for a good dose of reality parenting and laughter….she’s genius I tell ya, keepin’ it real sista.

He left three weeks ago, it has felt like an eternity and just yesterday all rolled up into one. I figured out a way to live with out him but not really, his old luggage tag was in the fridge. In the chaos of trying to leave it found it’s way there and I never had the heart to take it from it’s friend the milk.

Every open of the door I caught a glance of his writing and our old address. We had a baby in the living room of that house, it was Jackie boy’s favorite color, our family bed was in it’s hay day, a summer of deck parties every weekend, it was where our friendship traveled to a whole new place.

“Mom, what is this?”, Josiah asked as he pulled out the milk for his cereal. “It’s my sanity love, just put it back, okay?”, I said. His eyebrows crinkled and the crazy morning continued. We were late for school so I told Josiah he would have to grab breakfast in the cafeteria and eat it on the way to class.

Yes, free breakfast and this isn’t exactly a low income crowd either. Josiah loves these breakfasts more than life itself because they offer all the things I never buy or make, like sausage on a stick wrapped in a pancake with a side of donuts. In Josiah’s heaven, the streets will be lined with glazed donuts.

This is also the school where they have too many parents who want to go on the field trips. The teacher picks one parent for each trip, this essentially turned it into 1 million dollar lottery. People are probably selling their spots on ebay or something.

Josiah was anxious, he desperately wanted Jorge to go to the upcoming trip to the Valentine Museum when he returned . It would be Jorge’s first Monday back and the idea of having your papa go on a field trip after being gone for so long made this the forefront of many conversations. “Mom, you know what you have to do if you want your papa to go, you have to be first.”

We were toast. Being first, early, on-time, it does not exists in our world. I was wishing I could just make a direct plea to the teacher explaining why this is so big in Josiah’s mind and heart. Pick me, pick us… but I remembered that even though the disappointments of life completely suck, they are sometimes masked as opportunities so I figured Josiah could navigate his way through.

He hopped out of the car and ran to the cafeteria, I totally forgot about the whole “first” conversation. I just hoped he had enough time to eat.

The car pool line for pick-up was slow that afternoon. Josiah climbed in the back and I asked him all the usual questions…

me: “How was school today, anything good happen?”

J: “Mom, you are not gonna believe this, I ran so fast to the cafeteria but the food was all gone.”

me: “Oh, that’s terrible! I’m SO sorry Josiah, were you so hungry?”

J: ” Yeah, but it’s okay mom, cause I was FIRST, I was FIRST! Papa is going on the field trip!”

It was if we had won the mega triple jackpot. Sometimes it’s okay, even if you miss out on the donuts, especially if you are with the ones you love…

I have constant music in my head, I feel compelled to mark an event with a song. I often pretend that my life is a movie, it’s all so dramatic. The score is almost always playing “Little Women”.This is why I love Ann*, a dear friend whose super power is making the best cd’s. You know those friends that introduce you to all the cool musicians/music and make the perfect mix for the party or moment.

She handed me one just before I was to give a lecture a few weeks ago. I had a hard time concentrating because I was dying to hear it. This cd has been following me around ever since. It inspired me to gather all the music I hold dear in one place. So here goes:

All the music of my life that makes me laugh, cry and dance, sometimes all at the same time…don’t laugh okay ?

With My Own Two Hands by Ben Harper (Jack Johnson/Curious George version)

Let Go by Frou Frou

Kindness by David Wilcox

Seasons of Love from Rent

Heartbeats by Jose Gonzalez

Little Women by David Newman (main score)

Book of Love (rose cousins version- rosepose88) you tube only- thanks jen!

Love is my Religion by Ziggy Marley (acoustic version)

One Voice by The Wailin’ Jennys

Ain’t No Reason by Brett Dennon – thanks ann!

This is just the dreamy CD of course, the sassy one would be much more interesting ….what is the music on the soundtrack of your life? It’s the song you can’t live with out, it always finds it’s way back to you.

Leave a comment telling me your favorites and Lucy will pick one winner to receive a copy of The Soundtrack of Kindnessgirl.

*Ann also happens to be the infamous “Nora’s mother“…she’s even cooler than I knew back then.

p.s. Sandie– you HAVE to do this, this is one of your best superpowers too!

I met Emily on the playground at preschool one day because sages of all kinds hang around trees, old benches, and a good slide. I heard she was wise and intuitive but had yet to experience it for myself. We exchanged pleasantries but it wasn’t long before she was able to rearrange the thoughts in my head and began to turn some new stones I didn’t even know were there. She shared her best stuff and then our paths rarely crossed again.

Her message was simple and true. Wait for what you really want, you are worthy of it. I knew she was right but the truth felt out of my reach. I did not yet feel worthy… I wasn’t educated enough, I didn’t have enough experience, I wasn’t sure I had the gifts I wanted to give to the world. I was committed to trying to earn my worth.

Not only that but I had to fund my kindness work, bills to pay, clothes for growing boys to buy, and I wanted to eat fruit and produce in the dead of winter. These are the tiny things mothers care about and take even the crappiest jobs for.

I accepted the position I was telling her about that day, it was directly against her advice. I knew she was right. I was good at my job but had so much conflict over my work. The people I worked with were good and kind but I didn’t share all of the same values. Everyday I was growing further from the few we did. I was pretending to be something I wasn’t and was tortured in my heart.

I told myself various stories and constantly gave serious pep talks to help me through. As time went by, it became hard to believe my stories and then even harder to go at all. I was miserable and Emily’s words were haunting me.

Jorge kindly let me off the hook to quit, willing to pick up my slack. I’m sure he could hear no more of my inner dialogue. It wasn’t until he got a new job that I could see my window of opportunity. We wouldn’t make enough money but I knew this big life change was my chance. I should have quit before but I was too chicken. I knew I would not have lasted much longer either way.

It was the deep end, the very deep end. There was no money for my kindness work or at least the work I had known. All the little extras suddenly felt like extreme luxuries. There really wasn’t enough for just the day to day living and yet I was still so relieved I did not have to work at my old job. I was worried, very worried at times, but started each morning asking myself, “What do you want to do today?”. I don’t think I really knew. I discovered it wasn’t nearly as complicated as I had anticipated. I started feeding my soul with cooking, taking long walks and short runs, playing mama slam, going to the river,writing, hustling for mindless and fun temporary jobs, breathing. Maybe I finally felt worthy of the life I was already living.

So that brings me to a week ago….I pulled open the big heavy glass doors and walked to the front desk. I gave my name and waited. I looked up at the ceiling that seemed to go on forever. As I got into the elevator I started to get the feeling that this was big, bigger to me than the wise women (my future bosses) in the conference room would ever know. Bigger than even I could wrap my mind around. I listened as they shared their vision for me and my sister’s. It wasn’t so much that the job was important or the feeling that we just signed the record deal of the century, it was that I had never felt so connected, so at home. All the things I have believed and cared about for children were floating around the room. The deep end didn’t seem so deep anymore, it is just the beginning…

I sit in an old chair in her pale green kitchen, there are vintage aprons on the hooks and tiny red birds painted on the wall. I instantly feel at peace at Nancy and Jim’s, they just have a way. I recount the events of the week with such ease, wondering how I ever got to this place of peace.

The heat wasn’t working, I had monster babysitting issues for work, everyone got sick with the stomach bug right before and after Halloween, and then the kicker- it seems someone had tried to break into our house. All of this while Jorge was in Germany on a business trip.

The wrinkled brows and sympathetic looks are permanent on their faces. I try to explain how I can be okay during a fragile time. Kind policemen and dear friends call. Some even came….Kelly arrived on my door step with bags of groceries, flowers and a good book. Inside I found all the things a person feels like eating after enduring stomach turmoil. It was thoughtfulness and kindness in it’s purest form.

It was this expression of kindness that can make even the hardest situations seem do-able. I strangely felt strong, if you know me at all, you know I can spend a ridiculous amount of time worrying about things that are completely out of my control. This was not me, I was residing in love. There was no time or need to worry, even be sad when love is pouring from every place imaginable. It goes into your heart and pushes out anything that does not serve your soul. It makes you wish that love will find all the people facing much harder weeks and struggles that you do not even know…

the girls are back!

this lovely 74 page zine was born out of 3 hour phone conversations (everyday) in august about christmas. we were mothers with little children, it was a feat of creativity and goodness with all it’s beautiful tiny flaws.

the best part was, this little book became the launching point for my sister’s most amazing career of creating art and telling soulful stories. once she started, she never stopped.

so we are re-releasing this little treasure from 2004, slightly revised. it’s a little less jesusy, a little more rock-n-roll.

you can find out more and get your copy here.

but wait, there’s more! i have been bugging jen for years to take her art to candles. i found myself lighting kitchen altar candles to hold my secrets, pain, worry, happy thoughts. i lit it for friends, neighbors and strangers, it is one of my most favorite rituals. jen heard my pleas and created the first of a line of blessing candles. you can check them out here.

may the holiday monster not devour your heart this year, may the season bring peace and a full heart…

my house would be clean if:

the single working mother …..if i were married and didn’t have to work so much.

the working married mother …..if my husband would actually pick up his clothes and i didn’t have to work.

the stay-at-home mom …..if i didn’t have to haul kid’s to soccer, dance and spanish oh, and i had a part-time maid

the stay-at-home mom with merry maids ….oh my lord, if i only had a live-in, the house would be perfect and i’d work out all the time.

(this is totally a lie btw, because her house is almost always spotless and she works out but it’s something women just say in social situations)

the stay-at-home with the live in… oh my god, i do NOT know what we would do with out Rosa!

then there are all the people in between who are wired for keeping a clean house and orderly life no matter what the circumstances, come hell or high water. i’ve been thinking a lot about this lately, not a clean house but how people live their lives. how i live my own.

do you ever have times when all the really important things line up in front of you like a big billboard reminding you that the things you think matter never make it to the board? all that matters is staring you right back in the face. you realize you have been giving too much of your heart and precious self to parts that sometimes torture and weigh us down.

the kindness girl in me reminds myself of course, that those actions are somehow valuable and brought us to this place of discovering our true loves and for that i am grateful…..

so today, my friends, all that matters is:

halloween cinnamon rolls and little boys that are dying to be ninja’s tonight…(much to my own personal horror, it’s a lesson in tolerance)

sending pictures to a papa far away who ranks halloween in his top 3 holidays due to candy goodwill…

that money can not buy happiness…

my friend and partner is deeply missed…

kind friends, fellow mothers/sisters make the village very alive today…

that peace and kindness are still so needed in our everyday lives and world…

may the halloween happiness visit you today and bring heaps of joy….

it is the holy season of trees. it is the time when nature teaches us how to live. she shows us in the prettiest ways, calling for us to follow her to the path of winter. maybe she knows we wouldn’t come if it was any less spectacular. her leaves gave us shade when we needed it most and now is so beautifully making space for how the new season will serve us best. we must shed all that keeps our grounding from feeling the warmth of the sun, especially during the deep cold of the winter.

i must admit, i feel partial to the leaves, wishing they could stay in the red, orange and yellow hues and never have to go.

I keep a running list in my head of the cool people/parents I want to know at Jack’s preschool. I sometimes admire from afar and wait far too long to introduce myself. It’s a shame really, because my intuition is almost always spot on and I end up wasting perfectly lovely friendship time in the process. Brea Doutt has been hanging out at the top for over a year now. Pretty much anyone with 2 kids with cool names AND a tiny nose ring should be at the top, ya know what I mean? Besides being a fashonista, Brea has a matter-of-fact kind (as in kindness) way about her. It is with this kindness and deep heart that she has found herself on a mission she was not expecting.

Brea’s mom was diagnosed with ALS in March. It’s a destructive, mean disease that moves quickly and destroys everything in it’s path. I’m not sure anyone knows exactly how they will feel and respond when faced with something so big, so hard. Especially when we are mothers and we never really stop needing a mother. Brea did not waste any precious time. She just started moving, holding the space for hope by educating, spilling her newly acquired knowledge to those close and far away.

I listen to her speak, I watch her face.

“I can’t explain it, it’s just my life now.” she says. There is no wavering in her voice, it just is. This mission, this path that was so unexpected and yet Brea embraces it with grace and determination. She speaks from the knowledge of mother love, my mind starts to wonder how proud her mom must feel.

All I can think is how crappy it is for this to be the way you find a new purpose you didn’t discover yourself or imagine you would ever be choosing to look so squarely in the face.

“Can you believe that there are as many people living with ALS as there are MS in the United States?” …..she goes on. We discuss the need for research and what role people’s perceptions about the disease play. It seems there is not nearly enough funding which makes it difficult to drum up hope and the possibility of progress. This is where Brea’s path is laid out so clearly for her. She has to tell her story and listen to others, and then hope the word will spread. She will forever organize walks and dinners, constantly thinking of ways to generate awareness. At the end of the day she will return to her mom, who must have known all along that her girl would take this mission, even the unexpected one, so deep into her heart….

You can read more about ALS and Brea Doutt here

does anyone know how to get out a stain made from an ENTIRE bottle of personal lubricant out of my very worn wood floors? let’s just say i found a very slippery lucy exploring my private stash. i also found condoms mixed with the little people- it’s full body protection.

It’s been awhile since an altar has been holding sacred space on a ledge somewhere in our little house. There were too many conflicting thoughts for the intention to be a presence. I was staring my doubts (or sometimes ignoring them completely) about my faith in the face and found myself feeling bewildered and kind of sad. It isn’t as if they haven’t been there for quite some time but it was the first time I actually considered giving up believing altogether. This would have been to give up on hope for me.

And while I could have never imagined that I would have embraced some of the ideas I have, I am beginning to find comfort in them. This gives way to the return of old rituals with a new twist. The spaces are wider and more open, this particular brand of the divine is full of beauty, grace and mystery.

Around this time, my kids decided it was indeed time for us to return to the parts of spirituality that bring us peace. I had no idea I had stopped all encouragement in the area of their own personal spiritual development. I guess it was on hold in my mind.

“Mom, you nevah play (pray) for us anymore. you gotta do that mom, okay?” jack said the other night before bed.

“Yeah mom, you have to pray about papa leaving on his trip, we need that mom.” josiah’s voice kind of wobbled.

It’s like the time you forgot to pack the snack, or came late to school- the riot act card is kept handy in their back pockets for such events. So I said a prayer, things were added mid-prayer and they went to sleep.

The next day we wandered the surrounding parks collecting nature’s goodness and dug candles out of old cardboard moving boxes . A tiny silk journal that I found at the thrift store holds our blessings and wishes. I’m not sure exactly how but acorn people with their little natural hats were the finishing touch.

We light the candles every few days and every time we end up singing happy birthday at least 4 times, as all candles mean birthday to Lucy.

I love altars, I love how they remind me of the things I care about or sometimes just want to care about. They hold promises, truth and hope all together. They can guard sadness and anger, they keep secrets and wild thoughts. The altar has returned…

p.s. thank you jen for introducing the beauty of altars to me…

synge and some other friends who are joining the recycle christmas challenge had some great ideas…

1. amazon.com and half.com are great for buying used books, movies and cd’s. you just can’t wait until the last minute, shipping can take forever with these transactions.

2. ebay is awesome for big lots of construction toys (i.e. legos, bionicles) and countless other things. it’s great to get buckets full of some kid’s old toys- there are sure to be parts or old lines that even my lego obsessed boys have not seen yet.

3. kid-to-kid (thank you nan!), once upon a child might be a good place to start for toys if the idea of the thrift store skeeves you out completely. the stores are cleaner for sure!

4. homemade loveliness- one year my youngest sister asked 4 of her friends to make a cd with their most favorite music in the whole wide world. her friends happen to be like the coolest people in america- experts on all things hip, indie, fresh and cool. this said sister then gave them as a gift to my oldest sister who is ever on the quest to stay ahead of her own personal cool curve.

5. send e-mail christmas letters (unless the idea of pretty paper in your hand is good for your soul) instead of cards- save paper, postage and standing-in-line post office hell.

6. forget the coupon books, go local- just forget the homemade coupon book for a massage, foot rub, do the dishes- no woman ever actually collects on those anyway. if you want to give an experience, go local. save your pennies and buy gift certificates to your local coffee shop, sub shop or burger joint. if you wanna spend the big bucks, head for your local spa or your favorite massage therapist hippie friend that you met at yoga.

7. etsy– not exactly recycled but good for artists everywhere. promoting the starving artist is also good for the earth and you are sure to find something amazing and unique. here is a great place to start. and when you decide you have to break the recycle christmas oath, you should just run here. you’ll be laughing all the way home.

7. be picky! don’t buy it just because it’s a good deal. think about the present part. is it meaningful? does it fit (soul, not size) the person? are you excited to give it?

one more….jorge reminded me how every year (not on purpose) we wait to get our tree until christmas eve. he says we help a tree (a la phoebe from friends) fulfill it’s christmas destiny. not exactly green buying a tree in the first place but i just haven’t worked my way into fake tree yet. i need the smell and needles all over the floor, maybe even the special rare find of a bird’s nest , the charlie brownier the better, or it’s just not christmas. bonus- they are always pretty cheap by then too.

recycling has never been so fun…

it’s always been there. ever since i can remember there has always been a place in my heart that held kindness apart. the voice was loud and repetitive but i was worried it was too forward, too much.

“you barely know that person, they will be so weirded out if you do that.” “that” being the act of kindness in my head. the acts are different every time but the voice is the same. i’ve learned to quiet the doubt, she’s still there but she keeps being proven wrong so it’s getting harder to believe her.

maybe that’s why the random acts were the easiest, bums and strangers. connecting for just a brief moment and moving on. it takes more courage in invade someone’s privacy during a difficult time, i constantly question my timing and whether i should step into the space at all. i’ve made mistakes, said the wrong thing, or didn’t do enough yet somehow the power of my intuition has required me to claim this path this year. it has been my work to decide that i really am or at the least want to be kindness girl.

my fears are that people will feel like projects, that my kindness is some kind of compulsion, that the acts really are selfish good deeds, or to presume that i know what will be meaningful or helpful to someone, that i will neglect my family, that i won’t receive the returns, that it isn’t enough. even with all my hang-ups and intensity, the light of kindness is still so needed in the world.

the truth is there are parts i don’t really care about at all. i am uncomfortable with thank you’s or credit, i like to leave quickly, that it’s more of a soulful art to me. in the end, i mostly do it for myself. i love the process, i like figuring out what the thing or need is, i love believing in kindness. really believing it can change something, someone, the world.

this belief makes it feel a tiny bit easier to voice that this is my work, even though at times is still feels awkward as hell. it’s even weirder to try to figure out how i can make money to fund it but it’s too big in my head now. i have to claim the superpower, i am kindness girl.

in case you do not know, you should be thinking about christmas right now. christmas is in full swing at costco, it’s practically nipping at our noses people.

this makes me laugh because ever since i was a little girl, i have thought about christmas in august and september but not enough to actually buy or do anything. it’s more of a fantasy of holiday preparation (just the parts i like of course) and then when it actually comes i tell myself i’m too tired and we should keep it simple.

after some mild obsessing over our local thrift stores, i have a brilliant idea. i think we are having a mostly recycled christmas. i say mostly as to not get all into the rules but keep it fun. if there is something new i really want to buy for my loves, i will.

i recently realized my kids do not care if something is new- they are just thrilled with whatever the thing is. this has become so common that i think they are starting to forget things come in packages.
let’s face it- when you can get a very new looking kids trek bike (with the agee’s sticker) for $25 it’s gotta be better than the crappy wal-mart bike i can barely afford right?

or as a kid when you really believe that the green chuck taylor’s you found will make you run faster and jump higher all for $5…this is a good life.

every visit is like a treasure hunt and i love finding a good deal. what i realized is that there are plenty of nice things (even formerly expensive) that have barely been used. i like to think of it as the ultimate handy me down from the rich relatives.
it feels much less icky on the consumerism monster end and somewhat green even though we are still label shopping. the kids were into it so i think we are good.

so let the recycle christmas begin…

ughhh….have you ever had a conversation where you are absolutely sure you said all the wrong things? i had this very kind last night. i so desperately wanted to relieve the person’s pain or find a way out, my power of suggestion was in overdrive. not to mention i barely know the dear soul.

i think this was the time i was supposed to just listen. sometimes you have to let grief or a problem just sit in the air, this is very hard….especially when the person is so dear. if you are reading, so sorry dear friend. i will come to coffee with duct tape over my mouth next time, i swear…..

1. how lucy called everyone “mami” like a true latin girl.

2. josiah and jack’s deep love for neighborhood friends, especially bo.

3. how jorge went to every parent night by himself- everyone probably thought he was the perfect single dad. or maybe the women fantasized that he was a dreamy widower.
anyway, he knows all the homework routines and the soccer schedule.

4. how jack laughed when i chased him. his pitch higher than that of a young school girl. it made me laugh so hard i almost peed my pants every time.

5. how lucy greeted and said goodbye to her brothers and papa.
“bye ‘siah, have good day! lub you!”
“hi jackie-boy! how was day?”
at bedtime- “goo-night ‘siah, goo-night jackie. lub you. sweet dreams.”

6. how horrified we were when josiah came home and said he wanted to join the cub scouts. it was then that i realized just how flaming liberal we truly are.

7. how jackie-boy is almost just like a muppet, how endearing we felt this quality was. how it became increasingly clear he needs ot or something.

8. how josiah rides his bike at every waking chance, how fun it is to ride with him even if it is only in the alley.

9. how many new friends have popped up here and there. people i knew before but suddenly were all around me in new ways.

10. how beautiful the nature was where i lived, how every day there was an opportunity for it to fill my soul.

here are 3 guys that i have been swoonin’ over lately…

1. ira glass – how can you not love the man of this american life ? especially after last week’s episode when he actually considers leaving his career to go play professional poker after only playing the game a half a dozen times. i heart ira!
the first act of this episode had me crying the entire way home from the grocery store the other day.

2. jake lyell– jake travels the world as a documentary photographer. his voice brings both compassion and sheds light on the social issues of poverty stricken countries. he just came back from china, you can read all about it here.

3. ron stoppable– kim possible is hands down the best cartoon on t.v., seriously, you will never get sick of this show…every one needs a little ron (and rufus for that matter) in their life. so sad the series recently aired it’s finale. good ole’ ron saved the world.

i woke up early last saturday, jorge was recovering from working late and a short trip to buddy’s after. i was a little bit pissed actually….see the best part of moving to the city is that you DON’T have to do yard work. you get to plant flowers in boxes and put pretty pots on your steps.
no fuss no muss…but when you move a mile away to the ONLY part of the city that is a little suburbish ,you have a lawn.
it makes no sense but i can’t explain it because i don’t want weirdos from the internet at my front door so you’ll just have to trust me.

we happen to be awful at yardwork , there are just so many other more fun things to do on the weekend. like go out for breakfast at perly’s, lounge in bed and read with all the windows open, play mama slam, go exploring at the river, ride bikes, you get the idea.

the problem is it matters in my swanky neighborhood where we continue to look at each other wondering how we got here in the first place. our little house dwelling among the giants around it. so i am the lawn service, the landscaper, the guy with the big blower on his back.
where do you get one of those things anyway?

i am the only hope in my family to get anything like this sort of thing done, the others could care less, they are blowing me kisses while they ride away on their bikes. i’m such a sucker. so in hopes of not being the loser on the street who brings everyone’s property value down, i schlep out my sad little push lawn mower every other saturday.

on this particular day i had some trouble getting the mower started, i primed, i pulled, i pulled, i jerked, i pulled, no luck. along comes a lovely gay couple who had given me a very chilly hello the week before. i wasn’t offended, i only saw a challenge approaching, i must win these older gay men in their 50’s/60’s over. the dog too….

me: “oh! i’m so sorry, am i in your way?” (as i quickly move my lawn mower off the side walk)
man#1: (with a heavy german accent) “it’s fine, it’s fine, don’t worry.”
man #2: a slight glare my way (i smile back)
they continue on their way, i keep trying to get my mower started.
man #1: “do you need help?”
man#2: slight groan of annoyance
me: “oh, it’s fine, i think i can get it but thank you so much!”
man#1: “no, i’m going to help you, you are a girl.”

i chuckle…

man#2: “argghhhh, no, we have no time for this! come!”
man#1: “no, we should help her, she’s a girl. i will help her.”

i was dying inside, they were so funny, the pair. how they openly discussed if they should help me or not and the reason being i’m a girl. his big and strong hands got the mower started in 2 seconds flat and they were on their way.

then i found out this little tid bit today from a neighbor who was longing for a new haircut-
apparently my knight in shining armor’s reluctant friend is garren. THE garren of garren’s in nyc. i guess they come to relax in richmond on the weekends.
there is no time for helping girls trying to mow their OWN lawns, we must cut jennnifer’s, madonna’s and gweneth’s hair. all for $700 a pop. i liked his no nonsense self…i’m still gonna win his heart, even if he is a grumpy old gay hair stylist! i think i got his kind partner already….

Lessons in kindness can be found in the most unexpected places. The teachers are grocery store clerks, baristas and small children. The classrooms are elevators, doctor’s office waiting rooms and even the nascar races. Every time I think I know when or where she will show up, she always surprises me.

I can’t even tell you the boy’s name. We were passing out coupons for big televisions, bonded by hyper materialism and the American dream. How can any person live in this country with out a 52” HD TV?

I don’t even know how we got into the work of kindness, the stream of conversation went from mba’s to his marketing job to job satisfaction….ah yes, job satisfaction which lead to what we really want to do with our lives. His story began…

This guy and a friend started up a non-profit while in college for inner city kids. He started volunteering for the United Way but quickly realized he wanted have a more direct impact. The United Way is all well and good but his ideas were big, he needed to try them out. Ideas like taking 65 kids to MEET Tiger Woods, hauling kids to basketball games and the local jail. The message being you can be the golf pro not just the caddy, you can manage the dome, not just clean it, you can be the police officer, not the thug locked up.

This was mixed with their own curriculum these guys wrote, movie nights at the crappy community center in the hood, pick-up games and help with homework. The pair organized quickly and filed the myriad of papers that is required for the government to deem you legit. They relentlessly invited the local community to give and sucked the non-profit angle dry. All while working (traveling the country at nascar races with a marketing team) and finishing up his mba. He was a clean cut, cute, together African American young man living his own best dream.

I kinda laughed at the universe, she paired us together. Who would expect such a kindness expert to be passing out coupons next to the girl who is only working as a promotional model to pay for the u-pic sunflowers that she is dying to deliver as part of her larger guerilla kindness scheme? I peppered him with questions, never imagining that maybe I could start my own non-profit. Maybe someone will give me money to spread kindness in the world. Is that dream too big, too far from my reach? He made it seem like such a possibility, almost an everyday ordinary option.

I had a feeling he wasn’t ordinary, he was quite amazing actually. But this is what kindness is, it is extraordinary in every form on every level. From delivering hand-picked sunflowers to meeting tiger woods to paying someone’s toll… to the lesson’s learned by the boy whose name I’ll never know.

“maybe it’s not so bad being small mama.”, jack said while his feet dangle from the park bench.

“really? you think so, why is that buddy?” said the mother wondering where the boy’s thoughts are heading.

“because sometimes you can do big things mama, even if you are small.” said the boy with the big heart….

this little gem has stayed with me working it’s way into my heart. his wisdom spoken over and over again in my head.
i’ve noticed my world getting smaller, quieter. it’s a well deserved rest from trying to live someone else’s dream and discovering mine has been here all along. i was losing the small, the simple, the part of me that found happy in the everyday. playing with my children, picking fruit and flowers, lighting kitchen altar candles, writing the ideas that come from my soul, my kindness work…

the work of saving the world is all around. even the smallest acts of kindness
are the big things my little sage speaks of.

it is here i find my perfect peace…

Things I learned working for circuit city at the races this weekend as a promotional model (model term used loosely as i am SO not model material):

1. People LOVE big t.v.’s.

2. People are more approachable in a smaller crowd.

3. It’s easier to be blown off in a large crowd.

4. Good eye contact and a smile- they almost always say “yes”.

5. A little advice for guys- sweet pick-up lines go so much further than the nasty ones.

6. Farmer tan lines are the worst thing on god’s green earth.

7. I have never been hit on by so many men with so few teeth.

8. Nascar is big business, sports marketing is very interesting.

9. People watching is fun- especially at nascar.

10. Everybody should have something fun in their lives.

brother love on the first day of first grade…

some guerilla goodness in honor of a dear friend…this is a nice post about her.

this is her bench at a little park in richmond…

my flower read…

The boy and his heart had become friends, and neither was capable now of betraying the other.

The Alchemist

exactly what i needed…

(i left messages from The Alchemist tied to sunflowers in bucket at her memorial bench. People took all but one flower…)

i guess it was 15 years ago that hurricane andrew hit the home i grew up in….i can still remember what the sky looked like and how the air smelled, the sound of the wind, the faces in the room.
things were never exactly the same in homestead, florida but you could count on the people. everywhere you went, every line you stood in, everyone had a story. people just kept telling stories, for years, until so much time had past we said everything that needed to be said. we talked and we worked, other people came and they listened and worked along side us.

what happens when you can’t work, when no one comes, no one is there to hear your story. the story becomes longer, and more time and more hurt goes by and you are left wondering if anyone cares at all….i know this- you can’t even begin to rebuild until you start telling stories and someone that cares listens, really listens…

thank you in pursuit of perfection for sharing this…

i just found this blog today…it is like a treasure or maybe a secret that should be shared… and i feel the same way about mother teresa… peace to you, safe travels home in 75 days…

i don’t want a big house…i don’t want nice furniture…i don’t want any more stuff…i just want a photo booth. my very own to sit in my living room or hall, everything is better and more magical in a photo booth….

it’s soooo 10 years ago…..but the question is – does it look 10 years ago?
i’m tryin’ to get some promotional gigs to help cover the bills these days. not exactly the bikini rum girl kind of the 18-25 year old variety, it’s more the “would you like a sample of the latest herbal shampoo?”. jorge convinced me i only have to look cute in short shorts, a brand t-shirt and baseball cap. this i can pull off, anything more- i’m toast.

i’ve been searching craigslist daily for something mindless, not a regular gig and decent money. the problem is i need 2 decent pictures of myself, actually i probably need headshots. there’s no way in hell i’m paying for headshots for a job that will pay for preschool tuition and soccer registration, come on!

so while i try to decide if i’m fit enough to pass out snicker marathon energy bars, these are the two pics that made the final cut. let’s hope they don’t laugh at the 10 year difference….

summer is almost over….i’m so bummed.

to end it properly we are having the 1st ever mama-slam championship. it’s a 3 day event with the winner choosing the pizza place of choice for dinner this weekend- they will choose cici’s, mine would be bottom’s up.
mama-slam is a wrestling, tickling sort of game that was started when jorge had his knee surgery last year. jorge played “blue-guy” (i have no idea how that name came about) everyday since the beginning of children time so we had to find some sort of replacement when he was out for a few months. i think it was started because we could possibly have the most gentle children in america- i actually heard jack apologize to a tree yesterday. it was my husband’s kind way of boyin’ them up and getting out some energy.

mama-slam stuck….i will say it is starting to get more brutal, they are getting stronger in their tag team tactics.

last night’s round goes to the kids….i’m comin’ back tonight. i’m hoping to recruit lucy but she’s only like half a wrestler right now.

wish me luck!

my mom in india in 2006

the weather is ever changing in my own spiritual atmosphere, i have found it stormy and unstable lately. some days i wonder if there really is a personal god and others i am fully embracing the comfort of the divine, i won’t even attempt to explain.
my mother however, is steadfast and grounded. i have thought of her all week as she is traveling in the sudan.
when talking on the phone the other day she wondered aloud….

m:”i think i might get there and cry the whole time.”
me: “that’s okay mom, maybe that’s what you will need to do.”
“you can trust yourself mom, you will know what to do and how to be.”

and then i came across this:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P1w5BbCsZqA

i started thinking about the people of sudan and all they have endured, i thought about all the times in my life i have heard someone sing that hymn. people with deep grief, sadness, painful stories.
people that claimed the hope, the words, the promise that something greater than yourself has you in his/her heart even on the darkest day. i thought about my mom, being some divine portion in the flesh. i can only imagine what she is taking in, and how some sudanese woman is becoming her constant friend.

the girls voices are powerful and strong, their playful spirits sound free….may the god of my mother, may the divine mother, may allah watch my mom and those she loves in sudan this night….his eye is on the sparrow.

This is Lucy.
Lover of “poppy-cles”(popsicles), waterslides too big for her and her mama’s hip.
She orders her brothers to come and says, “that’s nice” when she hugs you or rubs your head.
She breaks out into total hysterics at any sign that i might refuse anything in her little head. she must protest first and then accept with an “okay.”
Puppy dogs fill her dreams- all sizes, shapes and colors.
She is a magnet to messes, especially those involving water and any kind of cup.
Clothes are tolerated but just barely, a nudist colony would be preferred.
She waves and says hello or hola to almost all she meets.
There might not be even an ounce of fear in this child’s heart.
She is our light and joy…