on this day, election day in the united states, i cannot think of a better antidote… er…aspiration than to embrace the upcoming world kindness day wholeheartedly, emphatically, honestly.
the mission of the world kindness movement and world kindness day is to create a kinder world by inspiring individuals and nations towards greater kindness.
the goal of the non-profit organization is “making kindness a greater part of everyone’s daily lives and increasing the awareness of the positive benefits of kindness to health and the overall well-being of society.”
“this day (world kindness day) aims to increase the value of kindness in society as well as increase the amount of kind acts that take place nationwide, making kindness a greater part of day to day life.”
i cannot help but think of my sweet momma as i write this. she didn’t need a celebratory calendar-day to pledge to be kind. she just was. she would be disheartened by our current state of affairs, determined to make a difference one little moment at a time, one kindness at a time. for as i look around, that is what is lacking. basic kindness. what i see in its place is ugly; anger and passionate division, fear and volatility, rudeness and a combative disrespect for humanity.
“on this day, participants attempt to make the world a better place by celebrating and promoting good deeds and pledging acts of kindness, either as individuals or as organizations.”
spoiler alert to the girl, the boy, family and friends: do not be surprised if one of your christmas/holiday presents from us is a shirt or sweatshirt or hat that says “AS YOU IS”.
we encountered michael at the farmers’ market one beautiful saturday when the sun was warm and the yellow jackets plentiful. i was drawn to the simple stand of breeze-fluttering t-shirts, the saying AS YOU IS on the banner and the byline “big boned or small featured. thick-haired or bald-headed. married or single. A or C student. white or black or in-between. male or female. or in-between.” we stopped to talk. i’m so glad we did.
michael was disarmingly charming and honest and zealous and positive – a breath of fresh air in a world that seems to be full of negativity and judgment these days. he spoke of the origins of his cottage business and his simple philosophy, arrived at through years of painful learning and experience and after a long career outside of this new mission. we could relate to him. he told us the point of AS YOU IS: “As You Is” is a rally cry for anyone and everyone that has a good heart, regardless of race, color, faith, age, gender, nationality, physical or mental limitations, or appearance.
the pull to stay and talk was strong, but that would have precluded michael from introducing others at the market to his new line, his new business. and so, we grabbed business cards, asked him to design some sweatshirts as well and continued on our way. but AS YOU IS has remained in our conversations together. his AS YOU IS. our (sweet momma/beaky-inspired) BE KIND. twinsies.
i suspect we will seek michael out to talk some more. because chatting with someone about acceptance and hope and goodness is, as michael says, one hella gift.
As You Is® was created to start conversations…to cause total strangers to smile…to make people think…to get others to feel so accepted they break out in impromptu dance…and to put a serious chink in the armor of racism.
Our hope is one day children can embrace being uniquely themselves, where they feel safe being different and where old people – like our founder Michael Fornwald – can age gracefully or ungracefully sans self-contempt.
Please join us by infecting others with hope one hella cool t-shirt or cap at a time.
we have a new frog in our pond! two actually. this feels like perfect timing for us; we needed the good sign of a frog in our midst. both of these frogs are different than previous pond-frogs we have had in past years; these two are leggier, less body and more frog-legs. we’ve named the bigger one ripple and the little one pebble. neither comes when we call their names, but ripple is not as shy as pebble. we’ve advanced toward the pond and pebble will dive right in before we get close, but ripple sits quietly on one of the rocks and waits. when he (or she) eventually dives in, it’s with a flourish and we get to see the concentric circles that spread outward, which is where it got its name.
it’s where we sit in our belief – as artists, as people – that the concentric circles spread outward from the center. the only place from which we can really make a difference. any difference. it hearkens back to my sweet momma…her very core believing that all should start (and end) with being kind. on her website www.beakysbooks.com is quoted mr. fred rogers, “there are three ways to ultimate success. the first way is to be kind. the second way is to be kind. the third way is to be kind.” it’s how she lived. she would point to her life and asked what she had accomplished. greatness. she accomplished greatness. because she spread kindness. out and out and out it went, the ever-widening rings into the world.
it doesn’t seem that complicated. it doesn’t take wealth or a super pac or any kind of grandeur to accomplish. it is simple. basic. in the words of john wesley, “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.” or my sweet momma’s favorite verse, ” i shall pass through this world but once. any good therefore that i can do or any kindness that i can show to any human being, let me do it now. let me not defer or neglect it, for i shall not pass this way again.”(stephen grellet) or from the dalai lama, “be kind whenever possible. it is always possible.” right at the center, right where ripple quietly sits before the great hop – right before we move or speak or rebel or undermine or chasten or deflate or insult – is the place where we can choose to be kind.
we have a new frog in our pond! two actually. this feels like perfect timing for us; we needed the good sign of a frog in our midst. both of these frogs are different than previous pond-frogs we have had in past years; these two are leggier, less body and more frog-legs. we’ve named the bigger one ripple and the little one pebble. neither comes when we call their names, but ripple is not as shy as pebble. we’ve advanced toward the pond and pebble will dive right in before we get close, but ripple sits quietly on one of the rocks and waits. when he (or she) eventually dives in, it’s with a flourish and we get to see the concentric circles that spread outward, which is where it got its name.
it’s where we sit in our belief – as artists, as people – that the concentric circles spread outward from the center. the only place from which we can really make a difference. any difference. it hearkens back to my sweet momma…her very core believing that all should start (and end) with being kind. on her website www.beakysbooks.com is quoted mr. fred rogers, “there are three ways to ultimate success. the first way is to be kind. the second way is to be kind. the third way is to be kind.” it’s how she lived. she would point to her life and asked what she had accomplished. greatness. she accomplished greatness. because she spread kindness. out and out and out it went, the ever-widening rings into the world.
it doesn’t seem that complicated. it doesn’t take wealth or a super pac or any kind of grandeur to accomplish. it is simple. basic. in the words of john wesley, “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.” or my sweet momma’s favorite verse, ” i shall pass through this world but once. any good therefore that i can do or any kindness that i can show to any human being, let me do it now. let me not defer or neglect it, for i shall not pass this way again.”(stephen grellet) or from the dalai lama, “be kind whenever possible. it is always possible.” right at the center, right where ripple quietly sits before the great hop – right before we move or speak or rebel or undermine or chasten or deflate or insult – is the place where we can choose to be kind.
we have a new frog in our pond! two actually. this feels like perfect timing for us; we needed the good sign of a frog in our midst. both of these frogs are different than previous pond-frogs we have had in past years; these two are leggier, less body and more frog-legs. we’ve named the bigger one ripple and the little one pebble. neither comes when we call their names, but ripple is not as shy as pebble. we’ve advanced toward the pond and pebble will dive right in before we get close, but ripple sits quietly on one of the rocks and waits. when he (or she) eventually dives in, it’s with a flourish and we get to see the concentric circles that spread outward, which is where it got its name.
it’s where we sit in our belief – as artists, as people – that the concentric circles spread outward from the center. the only place from which we can really make a difference. any difference. it hearkens back to my sweet momma…her very core believing that all should start (and end) with being kind. on her website www.beakysbooks.com is quoted mr. fred rogers, “there are three ways to ultimate success. the first way is to be kind. the second way is to be kind. the third way is to be kind.” it’s how she lived. she would point to her life and asked what she had accomplished. greatness. she accomplished greatness. because she spread kindness. out and out and out it went, the ever-widening rings into the world.
it doesn’t seem that complicated. it doesn’t take wealth or a super pac or any kind of grandeur to accomplish. it is simple. basic. in the words of john wesley, “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.” or my sweet momma’s favorite verse, ” i shall pass through this world but once. any good therefore that i can do or any kindness that i can show to any human being, let me do it now. let me not defer or neglect it, for i shall not pass this way again.”(stephen grellet) or from the dalai lama, “be kind whenever possible. it is always possible.” right at the center, right where ripple quietly sits before the great hop – right before we move or speak or rebel or undermine or chasten or deflate or insult – is the place where we can choose to be kind.
my sweet momma’s birthday is today. she would have been 97. she died shortly before her 94th birthday but remains a force in the world. her kindness and her zealous belief in kindness continue to ripple outward. i heard beaky firsthand when My Girl was talking about the world and its issues and said, “the best thing i can do is to be kind to people.” i’ve seen beaky firsthand when My Boy has stood firm in raising pride awareness.
now, i know this story has been told before, but i risk being called redundant to tell it again. back when my momma was 93 and facing down stage four breast cancer having had a double mastectomy a few months prior, she told us she felt like she had accomplished little in her life. there could be little farther from the truth. but she insisted she had no title (“engineer”, “architect” etc) to put after her name. we knew she had, however, three manuscripts she had written decades prior – stories about the family dachshund named shayne – stories she had tried to have published with no success back in the day. stories told from shayne’s point of view and simply wholesome and delightful, we searched for – and found – the manuscripts. and immediately got to work.
my amazing husband david illustrated the first of the trilogy, named SHAYNE. i laid out the text and the graphics of the book itself, designed merchandise like an “author” shirt, banners and a shayne iphone case for momma, built a website, contacted newspapers and we hastened to put together a release party with a reading and press and a celebration with brownies and asti spumanti at her assisted living facility in florida. when we told her – on MY birthday in march (for what could be a better thank-you-for-my-birthday than this?) what was happening on april 11th, she squealed like a school girl and started practicing signing her name with a sharpie. it was BY FAR one of the pinnacle moments of my life to see my mom – the AUTHOR- hold her book, read aloud to the dozens of people who attended and sign “BEAKY” on her books as her fans lined up to purchase the earliest copies. eighteen days later, my sweet momma was no longer on this earth.
david has since illustrated both the second and third books. the second, SHAYNE AND THE YELLOW DRAGON, was released a couple years ago and today, on her birthday, i am so excited to tell you that the third SHAYNE AND THE NEW BABY will be released shortly. the trilogy will be complete! my sweet momma, beatrice h. arnson “beaky” the AUTHOR would be pretty jazzed to sign each of these, but i know her blessing is on them as she reaches through the invisible line between heaven and earth.
we will keep you posted on the release. i have this sweet vision of so-so-many-many-books being sold (to individuals, to schools, to libraries, to dachshund owners, to families with small children, to families with dogs, to dog lovers, to teachers, to scholastic press or to some entity that sees how important it is to have dreams come true – at ANY age) that we might start a beaky-beaky foundation and help – in some well-thought-out way – in momma’s name. if you have any ideas, let us know. we want to keep beaky’s ripples going.
“…well, i will walk by faith, well, even when i cannot see, because this broken road prepares your will for me…” (lyrics from a really great 2002 song by jeremy camp called ‘walk by faith’)
trust. practice. faith. repeat. not necessarily in that order. through the ages, a common challenge – faith without seeing. ‘we’ are no different now than ‘they’ were ‘back then.’ faith. it’s ambiguous.
it’s funny. you might think that the most faith-reinforcing moments come during a service and this true for some. as a minister of music for three decades, i have always sought to create those moments for others…when all things come together: music, lyrics, emotion to amplify the words (and the word) spoken in the service and resonate within someone’s heart and reinforce their feelings of faith. it is a job i take seriously; sometimes you only have one chance to help connect a service with a person’s heart, one chance to reassure, one chance to raise awareness, one chance to have them ask questions within their faith, to challenge their assumptions for and otherwise.
for me, though, the most faith-reinforcing moments are outside of the faith-based venue, be it a church, temple, cathedral, mosque. they are the moments that i can feel the hugeness of this universe of God and my absolute tiny-ness within it: walking in the woods, standing in the sunlight, looking out on a mountain, holding hands, seeing the moon rise over the lake, watching the surf, seeing love pass between two people’s eyes, hearing my children’s voices, finding the right chord for a song, eating breakfast on the deck in the sun with cardinals, hearing music swell…
as a minister of music, i have heard a lot of sermons and been at an un-countable number of services. think about it. (and this is not counting all the years not spent in this position, nor does it count all the extra services at certain times of the year…you’re thinking, “ok, ok, ohmygosh, we get it!” ) so thirty years multiplied by 52 weeks multiplied by at least two services a sunday (sometimes three, but we will round it to two, as you roll your eyes.) that equals 3,120 services and sermons. and let me just mention, some have been…ummm…way better than others. so you would likely deduce that i would know all the stories of the old and new testaments pretty well by now. well, i beg to differ with you. for me, those stories are peripheral.
what really counts for me is the stuff you can’t see with your eyes, the things you can only experience: love, kindness, peace, generosity… simplicities. complexities. these are the foundations of my faith. faith in goodness. faith in being held. faith in grace. choosing actions that are life-giving. knowing that if i fail today, i can try again tomorrow. walking the broken road, faithfully believing that there is a higher power that i can’t see but i can experience. one that surrounds me in my joy and in my pain. ptom, in his lenten sermon the other evening, said, “God is for you.” it takes a little (read: a lot of) practice; it’s a new day every new day. but i believe.
my sweet momma had a favorite quote. it reads, “i shall pass through this world but once. any good, therefore, that i can do or any kindness that i can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now. let me not defer or neglect it for i shall not pass this way again.” (this is generally credited to stephen grellet.) the thing about favorite quotes and humanness is that sometimes we tout them, but fail to live by them. momma really truly lived by this one. she chose kindness, even over her own comfort, even over how she might humanly default in a given moment. a little card with this quote hangs on a piece of tin in our kitchen. being thready and all that means i love to gather things around me that remind of, well, things and people and places and ideals and moments. mmm…you know what i mean.
ptom recently spoke about what it means to be in community…what building a sense of community boils down to. he answered his own question, “radical kindness.” can you imagine a world – everywhere – that was radically kind? KIND. sheesh. what on earth would happen? if kindness was everyone’s first response. if everyone led with kindness. if kindness superceded competition and agenda and reactionary anger and brazen cruelty.
when i drew this image i have to say i had never before noticed that the word “kin” is IN the word “kind”. somehow it hadn’t occurred to me. but after i drew all the stick people in a field of hopeful yellow scribbles (representing sun and warmth and generous days) i saw the word KIN.
be kind. be kin. yes. we-are-all-in-this-together. in the whole wide world. should be simple, eh? this week’s melangetwo artist tuesday.
i believe in inherent goodness. the inherent goodness of each and every person. born in beauty, walking in beauty. i blame my sweet momma. she looked this way at every single person who crossed her path.
but then, there’s the rest. predisposed psychological genetics. environment. social prejudices. bigotry. elitism. lack of empathy. the inability to walk in another’s shoes. the lack of wanting to try to walk in another’s shoes. some kind of warped misinformed yet embraced caste system. jealousy. bitterness. the web of ‘ugly’ has many faces. and people twist. and that inherent goodness seems to go underground. we wonder if there is, indeed, any goodness left. we are confronted with this question over and over again it seems, especially these days.
we had a discussion about goodness recently. it became heated. the dog left the room and retreated to the bathroom. we were intense. too intense. arguing for the same point, we came from two different directions, two different backgrounds. but we were heading, actually, in the same direction.
each of us carries our gift of inherent goodness. we choose each and every day whether we access it or not. my momma’s adherence to the adage, “i shall pass through this world but once. any good, therefore, that i can do or any kindness that i can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now. let me not defer or neglect it for i shall not pass this way again.” often rings in my ears. we all make decisions each day; some steeped in good, some not so much.
as we approached the holidays and the end of the year, we were deeply diving into cleaning out. seems right at the end of the year. old boxes of random items that had accumulated in the years lived in this home, vestiges of life before, of life growing up, of goodnesses shown and received. we had so much fun as we cleaned; i’d show d pictures or mementos from places or people or the children, every one of them an opportunity for a story. some carried aha moments, some elicited sighs of where-does-the-time-go, some made me laugh or teary, some stopped me in my tracks.
i came across things from way-earlier-life, the time i had spent growing up on long island. my seagull collection, plastic seagulls suspended on wires attached to rocks or shells or pieces of cork, a 70s thing for sure. my horse collection, which was, in my mind, massive, but when i unpacked it was more like 15 horse statues and ribbons from showing in horse shows, drawings i had painstakingly drawn, books i pored over and over and studied at a much younger age. a doll collection with hand sewn or hand crocheted outfits made lovingly by my grandmother ‘mama dear’s’ hands. books and notebooks and old calendars. trinkets and rocks and feathers. cards and letters i saved for decades. artwork by the girl and the boy. little notes they wrote to me. an old electric typewriter and a case of 45rpm records we played the night we found them.
and then there are the reminders from a time i don’t talk about so much. a time when i became a #MeToo. it takes my breath away to think of that 19 year old girl. me – an idealistic, innocent, youngest-by-far child who looked at the world through poetic eyes and trusting-colored glasses. my heart breaks now for this young woman who found her way through a terrifying -and life-changing- time pretty much alone, seeking little help for an act that drove to her core and was more than difficult to voice in a late 1970s judicial system. because, you know, not everyone is good. not everyone holds their inherent goodness ahead of their selfish, controlling, violent behaviors. back then, counseling, and even prosecuting, was rare. i didn’t experience either one. the help of counseling nor the satisfaction of prosecuting this person who took away my belief and trust in goodness. for a time, fear coursed through me. my view of others became jaded and distrusting. i sought refuge in varying ways, but never really explained why to myself or others. i didn’t understand what caused this man to behave as he had, nor did i understand that it wasn’t mine to understand. what i do know, is that i grew.
and now, as our world opens their listening hearts to women and girls everywhere, i am grateful. grateful for their collective voices and the deserved help extended to them. grateful that even in giving individual voice, they are moving through the processing of it, the reason for being a #MeToo becoming smaller than #MeToo survival.
i was once told wise words from a friend when i was grieving my momma’s death. joan said, “the only way to get to the other side is through it.”
as i sort through all the pieces of life i have carried in boxes, in bins, in photographs, in my heart and soul, through all these years, i realize again that these words are so true. in so many situations, so many life arenas. the only way to get to the other side is through it. and then, you can find inherent goodness again.
yesterday i received a message of generosity. i was struck by its kindness. it read, “dear kerri, though politically i am on the opposite side of the spectrum of you, i want to tell you i always love reading your articles. we are both wives, mothers, lovers of nature, animals and our families. i choose to take what you write in and love to live in it awhile…”
common ground. we have common ground, despite our differences. and we can meet there – on that good earth – to celebrate the ways we are the same. in generosity.
too often we cling to our differences. ptom talked about the icy grip of our own stubbornness and i cringed thinking of the times i had fiercely hung on with that icy grip. we believe it is our right to harbor resentments and hatred. we hold our deposits into a grudge bank tightly, haughty looks on our faces and in our hearts. there is a common ground there too, but no generosity enters that place and the soil is tainted with our own ideas of self-importance.
i was talking to d the other day and we passed a place in our town that always reminds me of a plethora of memories, some of which are not entirely pleasant. i am grateful to the menopause wizards who have somehow blocked the synapses in my brain making it impossible for me to remember all the details of the unpleasantness and difficulty that took place there. the details have become fuzzy; ok, who am i kidding? the details aren’t even fuzzy. it’s more like a very low dense fog. it makes it impossible for me to hang onto the grudges i’m sure i’m “supposed” to still have. i can’t remember them. for that matter, i can scarcely remember all of what happened. what a good thing. instead, with no credit to me or any intentional decision i made, i remember the positive things that happened in that place, on that good earth. i can’t help but wonder what might happen were i to intentionally make decisions that way…releasing the things i have felt that have made me cling to useless negative energy.
i can’t help thinking that our world would be radically transformed if we could release the grudges (and over-important-ized-memories of how we were somehow wronged and prejudices and bigotry and inequity and walls we have built) that hold us back from meeting together, from finding common ground. we could choose to celebrate the ways we are the same. in generosity.
it’s there. the possibility. the space around us could become saner, with grace for each other, a place of peace. on this good earth.
i believe in inherent goodness. the inherent goodness of each and every person. born in beauty, walking in beauty. i blame my sweet momma. she looked this way at every single person who crossed her path.
common ground. we have common ground, despite our differences. and we can meet there – on that good earth – to celebrate the ways we are the same. in generosity.
reverse threading 