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Sunday, March 3, 2013
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Acts of Kindness: The Begining of the Journey.
All new things start with the desire for a fresh start.
My own revelation came from less than extraordinary circumstances. Boredom. A feeling that I was not being challenged, or challenging myself. A personal and professional plateau.
I got some much needed advice from my boss yesterday. Insight into my own shortcomings. The ways I was letting myself down.
"You don't seem happy here" she told me. It was not a question.
I work at a veterinary clinic. In many ways it's the perfect job for someone like me. Helpful to people. An advocate for innocents. But is it challenging? Not really.
"It's nothing against you, or the clinic. I'm just not learning. I'm not moving forward" I replied. The familiar tears stung the back of my eyes, an involuntary reaction I often have when confronted by figures of authority, particularly when they are pointing out the ways I may be failing myself, or worse, them.
When she asked me what I wanted, the response was automatic: pursue my RVT license, of course. The only logical next step to move forward in my field.
Her response was equally automatic, and very unexpected: "I don't think that's what you want at all. I think that's what you think is expected of you."
Wow. Not the vote of confidence I was expecting. Where was the encouragement I was expecting? Where was the note of pride at the realization one of her associates wanted to reach the highest echelon of veterinary paraprofessionals?
We went on to have a very positive and honest discussion that resulted in a severe desire to overhaul my direction on life. She encouraged me to make a list of all the qualities I want other people to see in me. To think of projects and endeavors I could take on that would reflect the traits of my ideal self.
Upon returning home the familiar sense of being overwhelmed overtook me. Further research resulted in a list of seemingly impossible requirements necessary to propel myself onto the path of self realization.
Slow down, Leanne. Step back. Start small.
So I made a list. What are things I can do everyday to make the world a better place. After all, every self realized person has, at one time, struggled to find the answer at the heart of the Human Condition: How can I connect with the people around me?
Be kind.
Be generous with your love.
Be fair.
I made an adjacent list of things I like to do, in hopes to fit it all together into a complete picture.
Reading.
Writing.
Helping people.
Giving and receiving friendship and love.
Simple and easy things. But then, In my heart, I am a person of simple needs.
Further research made it apparent that some kind of writing project would be worth pursuing. A way to get my voice out there in hopes to reach the people I share the world with. Which led to a brand new question: What in the world would I write about?
I reviewed my lists for the hundrenth time. There seemed to be a theme to my pleasures in life.
Helping others.
And a new project was born. The answer was, like most things, simple.
I would write a blog about committing acts of kindness every day. To strangers, to friends, to anyone really. I would commit myself to seizing every and any opportunity to help another human being, and document the journey for the masses.
Exhausted from my excersice in soul searching, I hopped on my bike to meet up with my friends. All that was left to do was look for chances to offer my services. But how? Would my limited means really allow me to be so generous? With my time? With what little money I had? Would I need to brainstorm? Make yet another list, detailing potential kindnesses? Or would the universe provide me with opportunity if I opened myself to recieve them?
My answer came to me in less then a block in the form of a woman named Sandra.
She was outside of the Jack in the Box. Not an uncommon sight in Ocean Beach. A middle aged woman, out in cold night with no coat. A couple trash bags full of cans and her few belongings huddled at her feet. I watched her from the end of the block as her sad eyes followed the course of people intent on not acknowledging her, mumbling to herself.
I slowed down a little as I navigated my bike through the small space between her and a garbage can. It was her words that stopped me dead in my tracks. Words spoken in a voice used to being ignored.
"Please, Will you help me?"
I put my foot on the ground, stopping my bike, and turned around to face her.
"Of course I will" I replied.
My own revelation came from less than extraordinary circumstances. Boredom. A feeling that I was not being challenged, or challenging myself. A personal and professional plateau.
I got some much needed advice from my boss yesterday. Insight into my own shortcomings. The ways I was letting myself down.
"You don't seem happy here" she told me. It was not a question.
I work at a veterinary clinic. In many ways it's the perfect job for someone like me. Helpful to people. An advocate for innocents. But is it challenging? Not really.
"It's nothing against you, or the clinic. I'm just not learning. I'm not moving forward" I replied. The familiar tears stung the back of my eyes, an involuntary reaction I often have when confronted by figures of authority, particularly when they are pointing out the ways I may be failing myself, or worse, them.
When she asked me what I wanted, the response was automatic: pursue my RVT license, of course. The only logical next step to move forward in my field.
Her response was equally automatic, and very unexpected: "I don't think that's what you want at all. I think that's what you think is expected of you."
Wow. Not the vote of confidence I was expecting. Where was the encouragement I was expecting? Where was the note of pride at the realization one of her associates wanted to reach the highest echelon of veterinary paraprofessionals?
We went on to have a very positive and honest discussion that resulted in a severe desire to overhaul my direction on life. She encouraged me to make a list of all the qualities I want other people to see in me. To think of projects and endeavors I could take on that would reflect the traits of my ideal self.
Upon returning home the familiar sense of being overwhelmed overtook me. Further research resulted in a list of seemingly impossible requirements necessary to propel myself onto the path of self realization.
Slow down, Leanne. Step back. Start small.
So I made a list. What are things I can do everyday to make the world a better place. After all, every self realized person has, at one time, struggled to find the answer at the heart of the Human Condition: How can I connect with the people around me?
Be kind.
Be generous with your love.
Be fair.
I made an adjacent list of things I like to do, in hopes to fit it all together into a complete picture.
Reading.
Writing.
Helping people.
Giving and receiving friendship and love.
Simple and easy things. But then, In my heart, I am a person of simple needs.
Further research made it apparent that some kind of writing project would be worth pursuing. A way to get my voice out there in hopes to reach the people I share the world with. Which led to a brand new question: What in the world would I write about?
I reviewed my lists for the hundrenth time. There seemed to be a theme to my pleasures in life.
Helping others.
And a new project was born. The answer was, like most things, simple.
I would write a blog about committing acts of kindness every day. To strangers, to friends, to anyone really. I would commit myself to seizing every and any opportunity to help another human being, and document the journey for the masses.
Exhausted from my excersice in soul searching, I hopped on my bike to meet up with my friends. All that was left to do was look for chances to offer my services. But how? Would my limited means really allow me to be so generous? With my time? With what little money I had? Would I need to brainstorm? Make yet another list, detailing potential kindnesses? Or would the universe provide me with opportunity if I opened myself to recieve them?
My answer came to me in less then a block in the form of a woman named Sandra.
She was outside of the Jack in the Box. Not an uncommon sight in Ocean Beach. A middle aged woman, out in cold night with no coat. A couple trash bags full of cans and her few belongings huddled at her feet. I watched her from the end of the block as her sad eyes followed the course of people intent on not acknowledging her, mumbling to herself.
I slowed down a little as I navigated my bike through the small space between her and a garbage can. It was her words that stopped me dead in my tracks. Words spoken in a voice used to being ignored.
"Please, Will you help me?"
I put my foot on the ground, stopping my bike, and turned around to face her.
"Of course I will" I replied.
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