the kindness I’ve lavished on strangers

title: 32 flavors – artist: ani difranco (and, in the spirit of the cover love confession a few entries back, I’m digging on this one)

It was three weeks ago on Monday. That Sunday night I’d been hit with the kind of news that left me not getting to bed until well after daybreak. I got two, maybe three, hours of sleep. I looked like I felt. A mess, basically. I pulled together an ensemble (or yoga pants, a shirt and a hoodie) which turned out to be entirely black. And, apparently, whether or not I’m feeling it, my winter accessories can be deceptively perky with their bright, cheery tones. To top it off, I donned my light blue-lensed sunglasses. They were hiding the dark circles and the crying jag-induced bags and redness. They were also functioning as camouflage for those moments I couldn’t totally blink back the tears.

I had an errand to run that I’d rather not confess to and I was following it up with a spot of grocery shopping. I was grateful it seemed my "autopilot" was leaving me smiling at strangers and maneuvering in my usual manner. For the most part, at least. It was mostly older people and the store’s crew in the aisles. But since the store was undergoing a layout reorganization it felt way more packed than it probably was.

As a result of this shifting of shelves and goods, I was impelled to take a newly formed, mostly blind, temporary shortcut. An action that forced me into the path of an elderly woman. We were faced with the option to stop short or collide. We managed the former. I kind of squealed in reaction to the near-collision and smiled politely at her. She returned the smile. And then, she intently made eye contact, smiled a little broader, and gave me one of those, "Aww, honey. I know." looks. It felt like a hug. And I could feel tears stinging yet again.

It was such a brief moment, really. Mere seconds, at most. And not only did it bring comfort and a bit of soothing right then, but, in the days that followed, which were some of the hardest, it was one of those things that got me through and past the moments I thought I might fall apart. That moment, as fleeting as it was, came to mean the world to me. And still does, actually.

Which is to say, smile at strangers. Or, more to the point, even some of the tiniest things you do in reaction to or for people can reach farther than you may ever know. And if you can change the world without even leaving town, why not, right?

So… smile at strangers. 🙂