You know how when someone points out your inadequacies you eventually start to believe them? If they point it out to you all the time then there must be something to it, right? We are incredibly influenced by the power of suggestion, particularly the negative. This is how it is with the world sometimes. If you listen to the media enough you start to think we live in a real hell hole. It seems the world is full of jerks, child molesters, rapists, common criminals and crooked politicians. We feel cynicism start to live within our bones and we raise our eyebrows when good intentions are mentioned. What’s in it for you, we wonder?
That’s wrong. Why do we choose to live in that place?
The reality is far more good happens in a day than bad but we just don’t report it. Papers wouldn’t sell if the lead story was that Bob bought Sue a cup a coffee, or Mary called Nancy to cheer her up, or that Sharon helped her friend Candace. You see what I’m saying? These are small things but they are inherently good and it is all around us, we just need to open our eyes.
There are terrible, rotten things that happen everyday, of that there is no doubt. We have to stay informed and know what’s going on. There is no suggestion here to be an ostrich. I am challenging you though to throw on your rose-coloured glasses. Notice when someone opens the door for you. Pause when someone says thank you. Look someone in the eyes when they talk to you. Smile back.
We are at risk of losing these things if we continue to ignore them. If the small gestures of compassion disappear than the grand ones will follow suit. Stop feeding the monster that is rudeness, negativity and harm. Acknowledge it and then swiftly dismiss it. It can not flourish if no one pays it attention.
So my message to you is to find the kind. It is everywhere. Notice it. Respond accordingly and a whole new world opens up around us.
On that note, I’d like to introduce you to a new place at The Yummy Mummy Club. I am particularly proud of this page because it is a joint effort between all the bloggers here. When you can’t find the kind. When your spirits are down and you need inspiration. If you’re looking to turn your frown upside down then come join us in Our Happy Place.
It would seem the new year is going to be one of learning for me. A valuable lesson taught within the first 24 hours.
Yesterday, my youngest daughter was tired, stretched and cranky after two weeks of junk food, late nights and over-stimulation. She was being uncooperative, difficult and pushing every single button I have. Normally, I can keep my cool when my children decide to test my patience. I remain the parent. But there I was, tired, stretched and cranky, after two weeks of junk food, late nights and over-stimulation. So, instead of her getting the mature “mother-like” response she deserved, she got an angry, child like response in return and it became a battle of wills. Who would win? The child or the childish.
I behaved poorly. Of that there can be no doubt. I threatened stupid consequences and forgot that I was the adult in this scenario. I also said dumb things. Hurtful things....to a six year old. I am hanging my head in shame as I write this. Our argument escalated and eventually she ended up in her room crying and I in the kitchen banging and clanging pots and pans for effect. Told you I was being immature.
I hear her steps coming down the hall and because I had banished her to her room until she was eighteen I was already turning over consequences in my head for this infraction. She stomped in and threw a note in the kitchen and stormed back to her room. I picked it up and that’s when my knees buckled.
Ouch. No, really. Ouch. That was the slap in the face I needed. I didn’t like me very much at that moment either. Tears streamed down my face and I walked down toward her room feeling very, very small. “Sweetie, can I talk to you?” She was still too upset to talk to me and gave me a resounding “NO!”. Picking my tail up between my legs I told her I’d give her some time and walked off to the other side of the house.
A short time later I heard tiny steps coming toward me. They hesitated in the hall and seemed to briefly turn back. I held my breath. Finally, a note came sliding across the floor.
I grab my pen and write her back.
I slip it under her door and listen. Then it comes, a cry unlike any I’ve heard from her before. It’s not loud and ear splitting but rather stifled and quiet, as if she didn’t want me to hear this one. A heartbreaking sob, so full of hurt and emotion that my heart shatters into a million pieces. I walk in and ask if I can have a hug, not sure which one of us needs it more. I hold on to this tiny little soul with all my might, hoping my hug will somehow undo the last hour of her life. I feel enormous relief that she is hugging me back. I feel unworthy. We sit on the floor hugging tightly for a very long time. When I finally speak, it’s to tell her that I’m sorry, that I behaved badly and that I didn’t set a very good example for her. I ask if she forgives me. There is little else I can do.
Within minutes, she is back on her way. Giggling, laughing, playing. Back to being six. I’m fairly certain she’ll forget about it. I, however, will not. I failed miserably. I walk around most of the time with a reasonable amount of confidence as a parent. I like to think I know what I’m doing. My six year old has humbled me and has reminded me that there is definitely room for improvement. Child 1, Childish 0.
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