Wildflower Writes

Photo by  Benjamin Suter  on  Unsplash   I’ve heard it said, “Never meet your heroes. You’re sure to be disappointed.” I’m sure that’s a fair warning if your heroes are celebrities- actors, sports stars, or musicians. Given the percentage of people who are jerks in the world, a celebrity has as good a chance as any to be kind… or not. My favorite heroes are unsung. Single parents who are making it work. Underappreciated service workers. Pastors and chaplains. People who get up every day with a smile on their face and brighten their world. I’ve met some of these heroes. I’ve never been disappointed. The more I’ve learned about them, the more I’ve been humbled, amazed, blessed, and inspired. If you’re worried about meeting your heroes, maybe it’s time to find someone else to look up to. As we know, not all heroes wear capes.

Photo by  Heather Ford  on  Unsplash I didn’t want to cook tonight. I knew it would require defrosting. I finally decided garlic butter chicken sounded good. Half an hour later, I had chicken baking in the oven. As I relaxed in the living room with my mobile game, the scent of garlic wafted in. One tablespoon of the chopped root had soon overtaken the whole place. I think acts of kindness are like garlic. It doesn’t take much to flavor someone’s day, to bring a smile to someone’s face. Even if you’re not the direct recipient of the kindness, the spirit of it can permeate the air. Kindness starts as an attitude, a belief that all people deserve the benefit of the doubt. It also implies that we have the power to make a positive impact on other people. The only thing left is to open our eyes to look for opportunities to be kind to others. In my opinion, almost everything is better with a little garlic.

I gave blood the other day. For most people, that's no big deal. I have overcome great obstacles to be able to give blood. When I was 12, my ear started bleeding after I got them pierced. I saw it in the mirror and nearly passed out. When I was 19, I gave blood for the first time in college. I got so dizzy I had to lay on the floor for 45 minutes instead of sipping orange juice. When I was 34, I gave blood at my daughter's school. I passed out. The nurse called my parents to take my daughter and me home. I've given blood a couple times since, always with fear and trepidation that I might have an embarrassing episode. I have to focus on my breathing, be sure not to look at the needle or the tube or the bag, and think about anything else except where I am and what I'm doing (I have a very active imagination). So giving blood is like a rite of passage for me, overcoming a long-held fear of... what? Maybe pain, or death. But when I got the text that my blood typ...

Okay, acknowledgement is not really a value.  It's more of an action, but it has everything to do with the way you view the world and your relationship with other people.  My pastor used an illustration in his sermon today... you wouldn't walk into a dinner at the White House (assuming you were invited) and not acknowledge the President.  He would be the reason you were at the White House, and the person who happens to live there.  Even though the people we come into contact on a daily basis may not have as much clout as the President of the United States, they still matter.  I work in a nursing home.  I am deeply aware that just taking the time to nod or smile or say hello to residents I pass in the hallway is vitally important.  Many of these people already feel discarded by their families, hopeless about their health, and live day to day going from medications to therapy to meals, and not much else.  If you want to make a difference in ...

Have you read the book, “How Full is Your Bucket?” by Tom Rath and Donald Clifton? It was required reading by my company a few years ago, and I was surprised to discover my son learning the same concepts in kindergarten. The premise is this: Everyone has a bucket. When it’s full, you feel good. When it’s empty, you feel bad. You fill others’ buckets by doing things that make them feel good. You take away from their buckets when you do things that cause negative feelings. Your own bucket is filled when you fill others’ or when they add to yours. Although this much my 6-year old could grasp, it gets more complicated. The same things that fills some people’s buckets may not fill others. For example, words of affirmation may fill one person’s bucket more, and gifts may fill someone else’s more. Also, based on this concept, you have to make choices about spending time with people, depending on whether or not they tend to give to or take away from your bucket. You also have the c...

Continued from 5/29 post… Wendy felt the tears fill her eyes. She hurriedly looked away and blinked, regaining composure. When she turned back, she was looking right into Jason’s eyes. The mischievous glint was gone, and instead she saw deep blue eyes, filled with concern and compassion… for her? She didn’t understand how a stranger could care so much. “I… I’m not,” she finally blurted out. “I’m not ready for this. I don’t want to let go.” A sob welled up deep within her, and she felt weak in the knees. Without a word, he drew her into a brief hug, holding her for just a moment as the tears began to fall, then gently pushing her to arms length. “It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to cry. No one expects you to be strong all the time.” He spoke the truth, but she wasn’t ready to hear it. Wendy murmured a hurried “excuse me” and brushed past him. She swiped angrily at the tears, trying to find a place to hide. Just past the elevators she spotted a door with a restroom symbol. ...

Continued from 5/15 post… Just as Wendy was trying to figure out how she was going to open the door when she reached the third floor, the door swung open.  A tall young man with curly brown hair, dressed in scrubs, jumped a little when he realized his path was blocked.  He held the door open while Wendy wheeled her bike through.  He cocked his head for a moment, a touch of amusement playing on his lips.  She gave a half smile and shrugged her shoulders.  She knew she must look ridiculous.  She found a family lounge area and wheeled her bike into a corner.  Surely no one else would be dumb enough to take a bike down stairs.  It was probably safe.  Wendy took a deep breath, and wiped her hands on her shorts.  She counted the room numbers, and finally ended up in front of 406.  She walked slowly into the room.  She looked for her mom, but no one was in the room except someone’s feet covered in white sheets to her left. ...

Where can you be yourself? Is that a silly question? Isn’t it healthy to always be yourself? At work, I am not myself. I have to wear dress-up clothes and make-up to look professional. I have to say “good morning!” whether I believe it’s a good morning or not. I have to smile and nod even when someone asks me to do something I don’t want to do or don’t feel is my job to do. I have to bite my tongue when someone at the corporate level says or does something utterly ridiculous. When I say I have to do something, I mean I have to do it in order to keep my job, which happens to be a priority to me at the moment. I do believe everything is a choice in life. At church, I am more myself. I still try to make myself presentable. I feel I can be more sincere in my greetings, because I care more about the people there. I can be a little more honest about my desire or ability to take on new projects, although I hate to say no to anybody. I do struggle to let people know my true feelings… At club, ...