Thinking about hand lotion

How do you hold close all the small acts of kindness?

A few weeks ago, I wrote about the nature of kindness and making kindness into a practice. This week I’m thinking about holding close all the small acts of kindness that I receive. I feel like over the last few years, even in the middle of this pandemic chaos, I’ve gotten better at noticing joy and delight and kindness. I’ve found a way to light up those moments, like beautiful spotlights that pop on randomly in the course of my day. Here, look at the perfection of this moment. Feel what I heard the poet Jane Hirshfield describe as our porousness to the world, the simultaneous largeness and smallness of our lives.

Trying to be that cricket singing.

Like the free hand lotion my local salon gave me when I got my hair cut on Friday. Yes, maybe this is nothing but a business transaction, meant to increase my loyalty to them. But I really love that particular hand lotion, which is why they picked that to give me as a holiday gift. They knew how much I loved it and it was in a sweet little Christmas-y bag and it’s quite expensive and it just made me feel so known and held and cared for. I kept going back to it all day, feeling that little glow of light and warmth.

Lovely, but then what? What do you do with those moments? That is, how do you weave those moments into a better life? What I’ve been thinking is that it’s like painting a wall one tiny, tiny brushstroke at a time. Today, you just barely touch your brush against the wall. And the next day and the next. At first, it looks like nothing but a thin scatter of color, isolated and incoherent. A dot here, a splash there, But over time, it fills in. The dots and splashes connect. Maybe there are areas that never quite get filled in, but the wall is brighter than it was before. Maybe it’s as simple as that. Stringing together those moments one by one. I don’t know for sure, but it’s what I’m going with for now.

So here’s a short list of small acts of kindness I’ve received lately. They don’t seem like much, but they add up. I’m holding them all close right now, trying to string them together into a larger whole—a world that’s filled and glowing with color and light and warmth.

• The guy at the farmer’s market in Sanibel who gave us a reusable bag because we were on vacation and didn’t have one with us

• My friends who, when they got up to leave and I wailed, “Nooo!” in a pathetic and needy voice, indulged me by staying for another drink.

• My parents who picked us up and dropped us off from the airport, even at six in the morning.

• The friends who stopped on their walk along the river to chat.

• The friends who invited us to a Christmas party, even though we couldn’t go.

• The friend who texted us while we were in Sanibel, suggesting we ask someone over for drinks because they’re new to town and maybe a little lonely and we’re people who do that. We’re glad to be people who do that and to be thought of as people who do that.

• The folks who signed up for my next writing workshop on joy.

• The friends on Instagram who had many suggestions about what color I should dye my hair.

• The family and friends who took care of our cats when we were gone.

• The lovely people who continue to send us Christmas cards even though we never send them any back. Sorry.

What small acts of kindness are you holding close right now?

Thanks as always for reading and subscribing and liking! If you’re local, spots in the next Winter Writing Workshop: Writing Joy, on Dec. 28, are filling up, so get yours while you can! Best of holiday wishes to everyone!