“do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.”(my sweet momma, but originally, john wesley)
my sweet momma would have loved his friends. like i mentioned in blogs last week, they – and strangers – surrounded us at PRIDE with hugs and conversation, bottles of water and gatorade. they laughed and danced and applauded and volleyed the beach ball. solicitous, they paid attention to those around them, even us. they made us feel like it mattered to them that we were there. it was fitting that one of our son’s friends wore this hat. doing good – being kind – choosing kindness without hesitation – seemed the theme.
it is surprising – with all the touting of goodness that is preached in various places on our globe, the pontificating about generosity that permeates, the statements of mission written and proclaimed in mighty boardrooms – that it is in the simplest of places that you find goodness. it is in the humblest of people you find generosity. it is in the groups – marginalized and demeaned – you find mission. it is sometimes just absolutely missing in those other places – the places where you would expect all of that. irony is alive and well. or would that be hypocrisy?
they weren’t tryyying to do good. they just were.
it takes just seconds to decide how to respond to someone else’s question, comment, action, behavior. in that moment – just before responding – i would hope – if at all possible – to choose to be kind, to do good.
my sweet momma loved to whoop it up at parades and concerts and sporting games. any chance to be boisterous and she’d take it. i can just imagine her at PRIDE – putting on a rainbow lei and a “do good” hat, waving her arms in the air yelling, “wowee!! wowee!!”
we went to chicago PRIDEFEST on saturday. it was in the 90s and a sweltering day. though we have taken the train countless times to chicago – and to the festival last year – we decided to drive down this time. we did not check the chicago cubs calendar first. yikes. the north halsted boystown area was a hot mess with the concurrence of cubs fans and PRIDE. so.many.cars. it literally took us an hour and a half to go just merely two miles to get to our son’s condo where he had saved us a parking spot.
we breathed a sigh of relief as we pulled into his alley, driving toward our parking spot…until…we saw that someone else had taken it. uh-oh. though we had planned lots of extra time, we now had 23 minutes until his performance on the waveland stage. i considered double-parking and rejected it, thinking littlebabyscion would be towed. clearly, we needed to go back out into the fray and find a spot. with our senses of humor still intact, we drove down the alley and exited back onto his road. somehow there was the miraculous appearance of a spot on his street…miraculous except for the signs everywhere that say “tow zone: no parking on cubs game days except with a parking permit”.
the four guys on the sidewalk in this boystown ‘hood were walking somewhere briskly when i jumped out of the car to ask them about the seriousness of the signage and parking, explaining the whole story and apologizing for telling the whole story (to which jordan kindly said, “it’s ok!!”). bryson – understanding the imperative of a mom getting to see her EDM artist son perform and notmissabeat – immediately told me he’d run back to his place and get me a temporary parking pass he had and no, i didn’t need to pay him anything at all. the generosity of these guys!! what’s not to love?
we parked and walked as fast as possible to the entrance our son suggested. the lines were astonishingly long but the security guard got us in quick as a flash when he heard our son was performing in four minutes. what’s not to love?
we found our way to the camera by the middle of the intersection – where our son had directed us. and we found ourselves surrounded by his friends, every one of them hugging us hello, an unparalleled warm community. his dear friend brought us a gatorade, another brought us a water, another – at the end of his performance – a canned adult beverage. what’s not to love?
we danced and visited and celebrated with thousands of others all smushed in to watch. our son’s friends – all so kind – wandered over again and again, checking in on us and hanging out. i gave out “be kind” buttons to anyone and everyone around. beachballs volleyed across the audience and PRIDE flags waved in the air. their set was amazing – the music kept everyone upbeat and happy. it was thrilling to watch – just like at milwaukee’s PRIDEFEST a couple weekends ago – where i took this photo from the VIP section where our son – since he was performing on the giant dance pavilion stage – made sure we were given access. i just don’t know what’s not to love about this.
although it is verrrrry unusual these days for me to wear a pair of shorts out and about if we aren’t hiking on some trail, i did anyway. because pride encourages people to be simply who they are. and every body shape and size and color is accepted and celebrated. i never had even one of those self-conscious “why did i wear this?” moments. even as likely one of the oldest people in the crowd, i felt completely included. what’s not to love?
i believe that even if i were not the mom of a gay son, i would still feel the same way. i believe that i would still completely support the LGBTQIA community. i believe i would still wonder – when i see others pushing back or curling their lips in disdain and exclusion – what’s not to love?
because i believe in love. i believe in loving one another. i believe in the most basic tenets – of kindness and generosity, peace and fairness and equality, respect and truth and – the big one – love.
and, though it shows a (disgusted) glitch in my own acceptance-of-others-meter, i have a really hard time understanding why anyone – on this good earth – would have the effrontery to not find acceptance-of-others part of life itself. who among us has that right? to eliminate others? to treat others less-than? to exclude because of a person’s gender identification or sexual orientation? “how does that even affect you?”, i wonder of those who marginalize LGBTQIA, who promote ‘anti’ ideology, who bully-pulpit, who hypocritically pontificate, who write or encourage or vote for laws or politicians that minimalize and restrict. without thinking. or sorting. or discerning. or checking in with their heart. i just don’t get it.
i was proud to go to PRIDE. i always will be. what’s not to love?
i wear one contact lens. it’s in my left eye and it is to correct minor nearsightedness. wearing only one contact allows me to use my other eye to see close-up – to mostly be able to read without the aid of readers. somehow my brain figures this all out and i don’t have to close my right eye while driving or my left eye while reading – because all that would be awkward and weird.
clear vision – particularly at night in the rain with orange construction barrels and no streetlights and lane lines worn to little or no paint – is essential. it’s my least favorite set of circumstances to drive in, discounting white-out snowstorms and ice. it’s nice to be able to see.
and for those days when contacts are not working – the days of allergies or tired eyes – i have a pair of backup john-denver-glasses to don while driving. because it’s essential to see.
we just read the little prince aloud together. i don’t remember crying at the end any other time i have read this book. but this time i did.
as the prince’s soul was whisked away – his body dying on the earth by snakebite – back to his tiny planet where his tiny beloved rose waited – i wiped tears from my eyes.
this simple book – supposedly a children’s book but so much a necessary read-every-once-in-a-while adult’s book – was just the thing. the nature of love. of relationship. of responsibility toward each other.
the louisiana governor just declared that the ten commandments shall be displayed in every school in his governance. for heaven’s sake. how is it that we have become this narrow? for starters, how audacious he ignore every other religion’s tenets. this is not visionary. this is not seeing.
perhaps he would be better served to declare the little prince essential reading. he would be better served to encourage his populace to look with their hearts, to value the basics of goodness and fairness and loving one another. but in these days of politicizing every single thing, i guess he just decided to go with narrow bigotry to see where it might get him. narcissistic power is on the rise. as is the popularity of meanness and aggression. and the little prince shudders.
i’m pretty sure the little prince made me cry because of just that. there is so much – out there. we are hearing every single horrid thing. media is having a field day and it’s horrifying just to phone-scroll the “news”. what we see…what we find there…unconscionable.
instead, we will find the richness in the elderly woman pushing her walker on the trail, her son by her side, chatting. we will find the generosity in the gift of a garden flower. we will find kindness in the invitation of inclusion. we will find concern in the check-in text of an old friend. we will find hope in the little-less-lonely uplift of voice on the phone. we will find resilience in the planting of trees, the naming of stars, the grieving expression of loss. we will find forgiveness in time spent together. we will find healing in turning toward and not away. we will find love in another’s eyes.
the little prince – tiny, tiny. but with a giant and sighted heart.
we need to really look and see – what is transparent, what is truth, what is life-giving, what is equitable and not limiting, what is sustaining, what is fair, what is kind, what is loving – with clear eyes and whatever wisdom of the ages we might summon. we need to ponder and sort and be honest. what we may lose otherwise are the essentials. the basics. the geared-down actual heart of humanity.
read the little prince. you’ll likely weep a little.
this falls into the category of it-doesn’t-take-much-to-amuse-us.
this multi-colored lighted floating orb delights us. six diametral inches of delight. three triple-a’s and a four-hour timed display and our tiny pond is elevated to light show.
they threw out light wands from the giant PRIDE stage. they are styrofoam tubes – with a light element installed on one end. the rainbow can flash, disco-flash, or it can stay lit up. i’m pretty sure they had thousands of them. there were boxes upon boxes eerily lighting up backstage – glowing in anticipation of the toss to an appreciative audience. we all waved the wands in the air to the beat – in exuberant support. it was not just about music. it was about love and acceptance and kindness. elevated.
i got a little lost yesterday while writing a post. i flipped open facebook and just simply scrolled around. i was struck – again, as usual – by what i saw there. it’s always surprising to see the flip-side of fun family photos – the level of hatred, the dedication to anti-whatever, the lack of thoughtfulness, kindness, levelheadedness. so much anger, so much judgement, so much violent rhetoric.
i am the mother of a gay son. i adore him. it does not matter to me whether he loves a man or a woman – i simply want his relationship to be mutually respectful and caring, supportive and affectionate, equal and filled with joy. i also have been extremely fond of each of the young men he has been in relationship with. his boyfriends have all been intelligent, talented, compassionate critical thinkers and his friends are all-embracing bright lights and ridiculously fun to be with.
david wrote a post called “be woke” and i wished i had named my post-of-the-day that day the same. because i don’t understand where it gets you – on this good earth – to stick your head and heart in the meanness zone – or in the sand – and diss on anyone and anything PRIDE. i don’t understand how people – without a thought – will negatively comment on the gender identification or sexual orientation of another – while at the same time write posts with the word “God” in them. i don’t understand how people elevate their own thinking – their own bigotry – to deliberately hurt others. where is the love?
if i thought that the world would be a kinder and fairer place for my beloved son – and for the entire LGBTQIA community – if i carried a rainbow light wand every-where i went or floated a light-changing orb every-single-day, i would do it. i would wave my light wand at each step and float my orb in every waterway. rainbows in the sky would remind every soul to love-love-love. and moonbeams would fill people with light and appreciation of each other.
but – from the stuff i have read, seen and witnessed – i don’t think lightwands or orbs will help. i think some people – and i am downright shocked by who they are – are just dedicated to exclusion. elevated.
and i can’t help but wonder what if…
“there are sun beams and moon beams enough to shine…
this i know, if you want to know
what the world needs now
is love, sweet love
it’s the only thing that there’s just too little of…”
sometimes something comes out of the blue. and it just makes you feel oh-so-good.
a wisconsin high school contacted us about a month ago – they wanted to order a few hundred of our “be kind” buttons for their kindness week. with my sweet momma smiling over my shoulder, i tended to all the extra paperwork and steps that a district purchase entails, happily thinking about hundreds of people wearing our buttons.
i originally designed them when we had a showing of the movie wonder at the performing arts center we co-managed on washington island. i wanted everyone to have a “be kind” button as they left the theatre. i’ve ordered and re-ordered these for various reasons and various organizations since. every single time i think about my mom – thrilled that this gentle reminder would be on someone’s lapel, someone’s backpack, someone’s jacket or maybe hanging from their rearview mirror. i personally have them pinned on a few purses – because – well – too many people need to be reminded.
it’s a simplicity. “be kind”…a choice. it echoes out and out in concentric circles and douses people with the magic dust of generosity. i wish that every school, every business, every service or religious organization, every politician, every single person might wear one – to remember.
i am ecstatic each time these buttons are ordered. and i was inordinately proud of the personnel in this high school student services department. so very happy to know that spreading kindness throughout their school mattered. grateful they went the extra mile. that though this district’s per capita spending may have gone up by just the teeniest-tiniest smidge with the purchase of these buttons, the payoff must have been brilliant.
reminders to be kind. to choose kindness. to experience kindness. to live kindness.
and my momma smiled broadly, knowing she inspired these buttons. hundreds of them.
there are people who are immersed in negativity. they eat it, drink it, breathe it, live it. i have learned – that it matters not what truth is if they can convolute it into their own narrative, if they can spin it as negative, if they can lift themselves up by pushing someone else under water – or, in some cases – under the bus.
life
is too short for that.
is too much a gift for that.
is too interdependent for that.
is too precious for that.
has more potential than that.
and we can all choose differently.
we drove away from negativity. walked down the hill, got into littlebabyscion, drove out of the parking lot, made a right and a left and a right and drove on. away.
and behind us – far behind us – we left the scourge of scowling faces, of spinning stories, of agenda-riddling, of adversarial contention.
and we drove further, further.
away.
i opened the window of littlebabyscion.
the cold air rushed in and swirled around, pulling negativity out.
and i could breathe.
and my sweet momma – through the filament of dimension between us – whispered, “live life, my sweet potato.”
and, just like thistles, prickly people tend to stick together. at least that’s been my experience.
one wonders what the point of thistles are in the world. what good might they do? the nectar and pollen are of nutritional value to pollinators; the seeds are feed for songbirds. but ouch! the packaging is a bit rough.
sandspurs were a way of life in florida. any time you stood on the swale of the road you would expect to encounter them. they were present on the coast of hilton head too, sticking to the bottom of your flipflops as you walked to the water’s edge. we encounter them on the trail – particularly if you step off, into the underbrush. sandspurs, like thistles, are unwelcome hitchhikers on socks and the bottom hemline of jeans, backpacks you laid down, beachtowels. they are about as prickly as thistles – and about as nasty.
i suppose if people were to assign flora to our personalities, none of us would prefer to be “thistle” or “sandspur”. i’m thinking more along the line of peony or daisy, sunflower or orchid or even cattail or meadow grass. definitely not thistle. definitely not sandspur.
and yet, there are people – out there – who seem to relish their prickliness. maybe it’s to stave off other people. maybe it’s a protective shield of some sort. maybe it’s the result of others’ prickliness to them. or maybe it’s the truth – they are just damn prickly.
and, as we know, thistles attract thistles. nasty attracts nasty. mean attracts mean. sandspur and thistle posses can be powerful, keeping out – repelling – anything softer, anything into which they can sink those stickers.
each day – as we continually learn of the challenges of others – i think that there is not enough time to be prickly, not enough time to be nasty like that, not enough time to be unkind, not enough time to be uncaring. we barely have enough time to be loving, to be kind, to care about those around us, to have compassion for those we don’t know.
and despite the many advantages of the thistle, the many advantages of the sandspur, i’m thinking that an outer shell that may or not may belie inner goodness is kind of a waste of precious time. it may be good for the underbrush, good for the meadow, but it’s not so good for humankind.
my niece sent me a text. it was a video of her turning her heat down to 60° and saying, “i…am becoming you.” yup. we are not – well, i am not – a toasty-warm-house person. now, don’t get me wrong. i do love to be cozy. but not toooo toasty. and radiators – as in our old house – retain their heat for a long time so you have to be a teeny bit cautious about how high you put the thermostat…the temperature in the house won’t go down for a while with those radiators radiating – their job in life.
regardless, we just layer up here. with energy costs as they are, we are more likely to have on baselayers (even inside) with thermals and vests. and at night – that window is always a wee bit cracked. there is nothing like sleeping with a little cold fresh air.
but, that’s not really what i was going to talk about. “warmth looks good on you” from stio – a very cool company based in jackson, wyoming – is on page 58 of the “deep winter 2024” catalog. and, despite all the exceptional gear this company sells, the inordinately courageous influencers, the gorgeous photography, it made me stop and consider it from – yes – another point of view.
warmth looks good on you.
approachable, open, inclusive, inquisitive, embracing, warmth does look good. it looks like a conversation waiting to happen. it looks like a friendship on the cusp. it looks like generosity of spirit and compassion. it looks like community. like support. like loving one another.
it has been in the most likely and the least likely of situations i have made new and dear friends over the years. in classes. at a job. in the ‘hood. in a studio. at kids’ soccer games, baseball games, cross-country meets, tennis matches, colleges. after a concert. on the wood floor in the hallway of a ballet class. in an airport car rental line. in the fitting rooms of a white house black market store. on a trail. online. i can’t imagine life without these people. and yet, had i or they not been open – had there not been a bit of warmth exchanged between us – we would have missed. and the possibility of friendship, the chance of a relationship would have glanced off. and, for me, that would have taken away from my being better for knowing or having known them.
it’s kind of a cold world out there. it’s not that hard to layer up.
warmth looks good on you.
it’s as simple as a decision.
*****
*stocking face created by my sister waaaay back in the day
i would be remiss if i said this sign wouldn’t come in handy sometimes. we all need this reminder from time to time. being a turd covers a lot of ground – it’s an umbrella-heading for a lot of bad behavior. and it would make a really good personal commandment, if we all were to have those (and actually pay attention to this one in particular).
googling this phrase, i can see that there are plenty of “don’t-be-a”s for sale. i just hadn’t run into this one before.
it’s not like we don’t run into sayings – bits o’ wisdom – inspirational messages – funny quips – like, everywhere. you can’t avoid them. they are on people’s facebook pages, on instagram, on social media platforms across the board. they are on office walls, bathroom mirrors, over-the-highway signs, in gift boutiques, on daily calendars. everywhere. and sometimes they are exactly what you needed to see, precisely what you needed to read – some sort of uplifting gift of a few words.
other times, they make you roll your eyes. it all depends on where they are posted, who has posted them, when they are posted. it’s the irony of it, after all. we can all point to a message posted by an entity that just screams hypocrisy (or a cauldron of other nouns with colorful descriptor adjectives). in those moments, it would seem no words would be better than words, nothing would be better than something. that posting some spouting antithesis of how something/somebody actually is would be a ruthless attempt at obfuscating their real essence, their real agenda.
“but it’s just a positive message,” you argue, thinking i am – perhaps – being a turd about this.
well, perhaps so.
but – as i wander about my days and you wander about yours – as we encounter wonderful optimistic messages wherever our journeys take us – online or in real life – i would suspect that in an overarching way – gearing down – in a message to laud it over many, many other messages – you might agree: that the best message that could be put out there – in every place, on every wall, in everyone’s heart – the one overall message that could maybe change lives (?!!!) would be:
on just the right day, at the end of just the right week, at just the right place, at just the right time – we found a quilted heart.
a random-act-of-kindness initiative, this quilted heart was tagged and stated, “i need a home.” we plucked it off the tree on the side of the trail and carried it with us – home.
ifaqh (i found a quilted heart) is an anonymous project – they state on their site that “it is not about the maker of the heart; it is about the finder.” it is not affiliated with any organization or group and they “remain neutral”. they “place small quilted hearts around the globe to brighten the day of a stranger.”
and they did.
and the thing it immediately did – in my mind – was make me think about all the fabric i have in my sewing bins with which i could make quilted hearts – and all the places we could leave them for others. much like our planted-out-there painted rocks, these take us out of our own overstuffed angsty brains and into a spirit of goodness toward others. generosity overrides a worried heart. an intention, it turns us outward.
on this very day, at this very place, at this exact time, this little quilted heart was precisely what we needed.
i’m grateful for this simple gesture – being placed all over the world. hearts are the same no matter where you are: a reminder of love understood despite language or cultural differences, a gift given – anonymously – to sow joy.
reverse threading 