Although my first thought was, “What a careless, fucking asshole,” I am so grateful for my second thought.
Which was: I am so grateful to be the type of person who notices a flower with a damaged stem and does what he can to prop the little fella up.
I’m not taking any credit for this by the way. There’s no way to actually know where our thoughts manifest from. Free will? The butterfly effect since the Big Bang? Quantum calculations in neurons? God? Fate? Destiny? Complete chaos? Midi-chlorians?
Now back to the careless, fucking asshole.
My mom’s gardener.
I pulled into the driveway last night and saw that he must have stomped on the flower while doing the spring clean-up yesterday. And, as I’ve said, I’m so grateful for my thoughts.
I’m even more grateful to be the type of person who doesn’t automatically dismiss these types of thoughts and label them as “silly”, regardless of how I become conscious of them.
But this isn’t just any flower. It’s one that my dad planted years ago. And even after Hurricane Sandy destroyed our house and caused the sewage facility to overflow which destroyed the soil, my dad’s flowers persevered. They refused to be killed and thankfully, they keep coming back.
So, I got out of my car, gently lifted his little flower head and used one of his brothers to support his body.
The truth is though, I would have done this for any old flower.
Because the same mysterious force which animates a damaged flower, simultaneously animates my sister, and my mom, and you, and myself.
So how could I not extend a kindness if I’m in the position to do so?
Denying the impulse to do what I can, when I can, would be denying a kindness to myself, and that’s the ultimate unkindness.
Earlier I said that I’m not taking any credit for these thoughts. Trust me, I’m well aware there isn’t a long line of people waiting to dole out bushels of credit my way. I know my traits aren’t ranked high on society’s value list.
And I’m really okay with that. For better or worse, I can only be the expression of the universe that I am. I just do what I feel I must, so I can rest my head comfortably on my pillow before I sleep.
I’m not expecting a medal, nor do I think I deserve one.
Then why am I writing all of this?
Because I’m compelled to.
Because, if I remind just one person to connect with kindness, I’ve fulfilled my purpose.
thank you for trading your time to read my words – I’m truly grateful,
P.S. If you enjoyed this piece, please share it with your friends so they can enjoy it as well.
P.S.S. My mom’s gardener is actually a beautiful, gentle person. He’s a cancer survivor and after my dad died from cancer, he checks on my mom often to see if she’s okay. Which, I’m so grateful to say, she is.