Little rock and stones I’ve found on local beaches have become transformed into what I’ve been calling Kindness Rocks … as in the act of kindness rocks … and also these are Kindness Rocks.
After painting the rocks, words/phrases/images/colour were added and then the rocks were hidden outdoors in the hope in the brief moment of discovery, finders will experience a gentle momentary respite from worry, fear … whatever is robbing them of smiling, enjoying the moment, celebrating life, sharing love.
Have I had fun making these? You bet! And I’ve been having fun hiding them and giving them away, too.
By the way, while there are no design “rules” for the Kindness Rocks, recently I seem to be focused on a theme: love … hearts.
The hope of the latest Kindness Rocks is that finders would share some love … hide the rock for someone else to find … do an unexpected kind deed for someone … tell someone how they are important in your life … smile at a stranger … wear a mask … get vaccinated.
I admit it, I’m a KISSer … KISS philosopher … KISS theologian … KISS human being a believer in living an approach to life reflective of “Keep It Simple, Sweetheart.”
The Apache Blessing’ resonates with my spirit: “May the sun … bring new energy by day. May the moon … softly restore by night. May the rain … wash away worries. May the breeze … blow new strength into your being. And may you walk gently through the world and know its beauty all the days of your life.”
The Blessing was supposedly written in 1947 by Elliott Arnold in his Western novel ‘Blood Brother’ and popularized by the 1950 adaptation of the novel in ‘Broken Arrow,’ a movie by screenwriter Albert Maltz. Whatever its original source, I love its simplicity and message.
May the simple gifts of sun, moon, rain and wind bless us in ways we cannot ask or imagine in terms of peace, hope, healing and goodness.
I love watching them poke their heads above the ground, changing their location every year, making their appearance in so many different varieties. Intriguing and delightful, they put a smile on my face.
What are they? Here’s a clue … it’s that time of year when dampness and earth combine and make …
… mushrooms!
Yes, I really do love watching the mushrooms poke their heads above the ground, changing their location every year in the back yard … intriguing and delightful. Each year, they put a smile on my face.
This year, two kinds of mushrooms have appeared so far: shaggy ink mushrooms and a variety of the boletus mushroom.
Author Munia Khan wrote that“if you feel all damp and lonely like a mushroom, find the thick, creamy soup of joyfulness and just dive into it in order to make life tastier.”
What delicious words!
For those who are feeling ‘all damp and lonely like a mushroom’ from personal or political stresses, may you “find the thick, creamy soup of joyfulness” and then “just dive into it in order to make life tastier.”
Mmmmmm, what new challenges will be placed before me?
What new friends will I encounter?
Where will this month lead my creative soul?
How will I respond to the “still, small Voice within”?
What learning will there be if I
… respond
… face the challenges
… listen to that Voice within
… consider possibilities
What learning will there be if I
… don’t respond
… don’t face the challenges
… don’t listen to that Voice
… don’t consider possibilities
and see only problems?
Problems.
There will always be problems
of some sort or another.
As I looked through the patio door, I saw her. Ms. Squirrel.
She was eating the seed I’d put out for the birds. I grabbed my purse and muttered “I see you! Those seeds are *not* yours! They’re for the birds. Your food is over there.”
Did she listen to me? Of course not. She was on a mission. She needed to find food to store for the winter.
So Ms. Squirrel stuffed seeds into her cheek pouches and stuffed some more and more and more quickly. Very quickly.
As I quietly inched my way closer to the patio door to take her photo she stopped looked up waited. I stopped moving.
Not sensing danger, Ms. Squirrel began to stuff her pouches with more and more and more and more quickly. Very quickly.
I inched forward a bit more, camera poised. Ms Squirrel stopped, looked up. Waited. I stopped moving.
We danced this dance for a minute or two and before she darted away I took her photo.
Today, Ms. Squirrel came for a visit. She stuffed her cheek pouches and brought a huge smile to my face.
She also brought a reminder ‘winter is coming’ and
many will be hungry.
Not just squirrels or birds. Our local Food Banks will need us.
Thank you for your visit, today, Ms. Squirrel and your gentle reminder.
The wind blows. Floods and rising waters continue their devastating invasion. Smoke from nearby fires is frighteningly strong. Lungs ache. Eyes burn. Breathing is compromised. Evacuations continue. Families fear losing their homes, livestock, pets, livelihoods, lives. Those who survived the fires now face homelessness, poverty, an uncertain future. Painful tears.
The wind howls. People frantically trying to get into an airport and on a plane to safety. People huddle together, stranded on the tarmac in the hopes that they will be able to get on a plane that will rescue them from death, rape, torture. Painful tears.
The wind resurfaces. New strains of the pandemic virus erupt, overloading hospitals, exhausting front line workers, terrifying parents of children under the age of twelve unable to be vaccinated, causing polarization in families where some decide to be vaccinated and others decide the pandemic is a hoax. Painful tears.
The wind changes direction. Young men and women brought to their new country as babies or children face deportation. Infants, toddlers, children, youth, separated from their parents continue to be incarcerated, uncared for, unprotected, terrified. Painful tears.
The wind that has blown for decades continues to blow in new ways as unmarked graves of children in residential schools are found – as memories of childhood experiences of abuse in residential schools bubble to the surface with the discovery of the graves – as the reality of murdered and missing indigenous women continues to sink in. Painful tears.
The wind still blows. People are standing up, speaking out, making their opposition known, not only in peaceful ways, but in not-so-peaceful ways. Nuclear threats beg the ‘is war on the horizon?’ question. Ordinary citizens ask why the law seems to serve and protect the most powerful, but not the vulnerable, not the land, not the environment. Painful tears.
The wind of ill-health continues to disrupt lives. Addiction, chronic illness, mental illness, overdoses, accidents, loneliness, aging, grief, and increase rents that are impossible to meet forcing businesses to close, people out of their homes and on to the streets. Lives, finances, health and relationships are compromised. Painful tears.
Painful tears continue to fall from eyes, covering faces and continue to fall from hearts, covering souls as the sacrifice of those who died, so there might be life and freedom to vote and express opinions, often seems lost in rhetoric and anger. Painful tears.
Tears. Far too many painful tears at this time of fires and floods, rape and torture, hurricanes and starvation, earthquakes and tornadoes, political lies and abuse of power.
May painful tears be diminished by naming the fears (not letting them fester, or stifle conversation) about global warming/climate change, the pandemic, bullying, abuse, political decisions … and by taking action.
Let painful tears flow and motivate to let in Light.
The little engine was at the bottom of a mountain, looked ahead and was about to turn around because the mountain seemed to be too difficult to climb.
But then came the thought “I think I can. I think I can. I think I can” and the little train slowly began its climb up the mountain to the summit.
Like the engine in “The Little Engine That Could” story (authored by Watty Piper, a pen name of Arnold Munk) my former cat, Serenity and Olympic athlete Simone Biles can serve as gentle reminders of the power and importance of the “I think I can” philosophy.
It’s not easy to take one step, then another, and then another and begin to climb the mountains in our life … overcome the obstacles (of fear, lack of self-confidence, negativity) along the way … think possibilities (“I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.”) … and get to the top where peace, solace, healing, joy can be found.
It’s not easy to take one step, then another and then another and begin to climb the mountains in our global lives … overcome the obstacles of (lies, greed, political corruption) along the way … think possibilities (“I think we can. I think we can. I think we can.”) … and get to the top where justice, equality, hope, peace can be found.
Serenity wanted to climb her Scratching Tree but because of recent surgery, wasn’t quite certain how to do that. Slowly but surely, she made her way up her mountain. She began the climb … overcame her obstacles and got to the top where a view of the garden, personal satisfaction and peace were found.
World-renowned gymnast Simone Biles wanted to achieve ‘Olympic gold’ at the Olympics in Japan. She had trained. She was physically ready. She approached the mat but when she miscalculated – again she knew she wasn’t emotionally ready. She left the arena and returned with a decision and slowly but surely, she began the climb up her mountain of emotional obstacles … and will get to the top where peace will be found.
May the images of The Little Engine That Could, Serenity the cat and the courage of gymnast Simone Biles envelope us in “I think I can” thinking … for ourselves … for our countries … for one another.
May we not be daunted by the mountains ahead of us, personally or politically.
May we not allow obstacles to block us.
May we get to the top of our seemingly impossible-to-climb mountains look back in reflection and acknowledge “we did it!”
There are times when we experience wilderness moments
… when temptation calls us to sow seeds of negativity in our social media posts, blogs, conversations,emails, thoughts
… when wild beasts of anger, fear, disillusionment, bitterness, resentment are ravenous and eat at the core of our personal peace and corporate unity.
Those wild beasts and temptations can be deadly.
How can we resist the temptations
remain steadfast in the face of the wild beasts
raise one another up, instead of tear one another down
be encouraged when we falter
have willing hearts to forgive one another and ourselves
be mindful about what is good in this world
repent of those moments when we allow temptations and wild beasts to detract us
Those times when we feel unloveable,
may we feel unconditional love.
Those times when our bodies hurt,
may we know a gentle, healing touch.
Those times when our minds are confused and stressed,
may we be blessed with a sense of peace that passes all understanding.
Those times when the storms of life have battered us,
may we experience a soft embrace.
Those times when all we seem to hear is a cacophony of cruelty, gossip and negativity,
may we know a comforting, encouraging and affirming ‘still, small Voice’ within.
When life seems bleak, the future seems uncertain and/or frightening,
may we discover a glimmer of a spirit of hope.
Whenever you find a Thursday that is sad Whenever you find a Thursday that is lonely Whenever you find a Thursday that is difficult in any way How about welcoming it?
How about letting it know you’re delighted it is here?
How about expressing gratitude that you’re here?
Because you are here, Thursday
It’s not another day of the week It’s Thursday. And as Annie sang “the sun will come up, tomorrow.”
See you “tomorrow” – Friday for another in the Soulistry “Day of the Week” reflection series: www.soulistry.com/blog
Welcome Wednesday. You are a gentle reminder to “make time to smell the roses.”
‘Make’ time not just ‘take’ time but make time to … work at our relationships with cherished family and friends … play and create … be intentional about our health: physical, emotional, intellectual, spiritual … wonder and ponder and be in awe.
In other words, may we make time this day, this Wednesday to “smell the roses” of all that life has to offer.
Photo & Text © June Maffin
