Kindness.

I've been thinking lately about how important kindness is in the world and how much better off we'd all be if everyone just tried a little harder. It sounds simple, I know, but the most important concepts in the world are really frighteningly simple when it comes down to it, aren't they? We all get caught up in the day to day of our own lives and the little people around us that we don't stop and think of how we're ultimately all responsible for our brothers and sisters in the world.

I believe God has put all of us here for a reason and He's given us each a job or a strength that we need to discover and play to. I've discovered that I'm at my best when I'm taking care of people. It makes me feel good to help me. I like to entertain, not only because I like the planning and the cooking, etc but because I feel like when someone comes into my home and I make a fuss over them that maybe for that short period of time we're together they feel like they're important enough to have a fuss made over them.

It's amazing how a little kindness from one person to another can turn someone's life on top over tails. Recently, I've been given the tremendous gift of kindness from a dear friend. This is someone whom I've known for years and years. Our relationship has grown slowly and steadily over the years, and we have developed an appreciation for each other unlike anything I've experienced before. We don't see each other all that regularly, but when we do we pick up right where we left off. We're peas from the same pod, and we just get each other. I've been struggling a bit lately, and this person has been there to lend an ear and a broad shoulder when I needed it most. I've been offered sympathy and gentle honestly. Mostly, I know in no uncertain terms that I have someone to lean on under any and all circumstances. Isn't that really all someone needs? To know that they have a soft place to land when it all comes crashing down around them like you never imagined it would?

I've always considered myself strong and resilient. I've faced a lot of challenges in my life, and I've come through them all fairly unscathed and a better person for it. I come from a long line of strong women. It's proven to be a blessing and a curse. There have been plenty of times when I've just wanted to crumble into a heap on the floor and give up. I just don't think it's in my DNA. I almost feel like I'm incapable of giving up. Even when I think I have no fight left and I've resigned myself to giving up, I wake up with a renewed spirit and feel that maybe there's just a glimmer of fight left in me yet. Perhaps I'm simply too stubborn. Perhaps it's just that I secretly enjoy the man vs. conflict struggle if only to see who will emerge victorious. More likely, it's just my strong faith in God that teaches me He won't give me any burden I can't handle and hoping that I can prove to Him he's right about me. Like Mother Theresa, though, I just wish He didn't trust me so much. Ha! Do you like how I compared myself to Mother Theresa? Awesome.

When you're "the strong one," you are the only everyone trusts and comes to when they're struggling and needing support, etc. I wouldn't have it any other way. I love that my friends and family rely on me for help. If for no other reason, the control freak in me knows that I will do whatever it takes to help or find someone who can. The dark side of that coin is that when you're "the strong one," you're really not allowed to not be the strong one. People don't know how to react. They don't know what to do. And then you find yourself standing all alone in the middle of hard times. I've come to think that it's because once the strong one isn't strong they are faced with coming to terms with their own lack of strength. If their rock is starting to crumble, well then, their footing is shaking at best.

Unfortunately, that doesn't leave the strong one many options when the inevitable rain starts to fall. You see, I tried it once. After the birth of The Little One, I struggled with postpartum depression. It completely blindsided me, and it wasn't really until I was most of the way through it did I even really realize what was going on. I spent the first 6 months of The Little One's life sitting on the couch nursing him and crying, feeling lost and hopeless, wondering why I couldn't manage to bounce back to my former "Johnny on the spot" personality. As strong willed as I know I am, I just couldn't manage to will myself out of it.

I will never forget the day that I realized I was on my own. On my own for the rest of my life. I was home alone with the baby, quietly crying for a reason I wasn't even quite sure of myself when the phone rang. It was my best friend. I tried to pull myself together to answer the phone, but she could tell I was crying. When she asked me what was wrong, I simply said, "I'm falling apart." She got quiet for a moment and said, "You're falling apart? I'm sorry." There was no "I'll be right over" and no "what can I do." It was more of an "Oh crap. Now what?" I heard from her less and less after that until contact pretty much stopped altogether until a few months later when she had a crisis and needed me. And I took her back because she needed help, and I would never turn my back on someone who needed help. During the same period of time, someone very close to me (someone I should trust above anyone else) asked why I hadn't done something I was supposed to do. I said, "I don't know if you've noticed, but I've been rather depressed lately." Their reply? "Yeah, I noticed." Perhaps it's just because it's such a foreign concept to me, but at that instant my heart shattered into a million pieces, never to be whole again. Shortly after those instances, some new friends I had been spending more time with sat me down and said, "We've been a little worried that you seem like you might be experiencing some postpartum depression. Do you think you are? So-and-So went through that. She might be able to help. You should talk to her. Have you talked to your doctor?" These were neighbors I spent a little time with, but just the fact that someone noticed and cared enough to reach out meant the world to me. I felt like I was sitting on the couch silently screaming, "Someone please ask me if I need help." You see, us "strong ones" are usually afraid to need help. It scares us when we can usually take care of ourselves and everyone around us but can't all of a sudden, and we certainly don't want to add to anyone else's burden by asking. The funny thing about us "strong ones" is that we don't want anyone to hesitate to come to us because we can handle anything... it's OK.. just ask. A burden shared is a burden halved, right? I'm not saying it makes all that much sense, it's just the way it is.

You can rest assured, however, that any time since when I've had a problem I've kept it to myself. I'm not sure if it's more out of fear of crashing and burning or if it's simply resignation to the fact that this is my lot in life, and when it comes down to it I know that I can handle whatever is thrown my way and make it through to the other side. It's a lesson I don't want anyone else to have to learn.

When I finally mustered the courage to speak to my friend about these issues, it was only in the context of seeking advice on a related subject and I needed to share this information. However, the kindness shown to me that day and days since has gone a long way to restore my faith in humanity. I hope the way I felt that day is the way I make my friends and family feel when they have a problem. A feeling of "no matter what I'm here to help how ever I can" a feeling of unconditional love and support. It didn't take much on the friend's part to make me feel safe. I've never called in the middle of the night, asked for any favors, or even wanted anything in particular. Just knowing that if it ever comes down to it, if I ever REALLY needed anything I have somewhere to go and someone to turn to. Everyone in life needs that. God didn't put us here to go through life on our own.

There can be so much hatred and ugliness in the world today. It makes me sad. However, I truly believe that the act of showing someone just a little kindness overshadows the ugliness in the world. I truly do believe that good triumphs over evil in the end.... that's there's so much more energy in doing good than in bad. One small act of a well-meant kindness is enough to brighten the darkest of days. You never know whose life you're going to impact with a smile or a kind word. Without you knowing, it just might be exactly what they needed that day.

This brings me to another thought today... Worse than being unkind is being apathetic. When I said, "I don't know if you've noticed, but I've been rather depressed." I was hoping to get a response somewhere along the lines of "I've been so wrapped up in other things that I didn't notice. How can I help?" or even "Yes, I've noticed, but I really didn't know what to say." Instead what I heard was "Yes, I noticed but didn't really care enough to do anything about it." To me, the message I got, loud and clear, was that I wasn't important enough waste the effort on and that I just, plain and simple, don't matter. I just don't matter.

Now that the fog has lifted, now that I'm thinking a little more clearly I realize that I DO matter. If nothing else, I matter to myself. I try hard every single day to be a positive influence in people's lives. I think to myself "what one thing can I do, big or small, to make someone's life a little better today" and then I set out to do that. Even if it's just putting a silly knock-knock joke into the The Big One's lunchbox, I've done something to make someone smile. I deserve that, too. It's humbling when you realize that the people who go farthest out of your way to please are the ones who take you the most for granted. It's even more humbling when you realize that the people who are really there for you come from the most unexpected places in your lives. Mostly, I thank God every day for bringing the exact right person into my life at the exact time I need them most. He's funny that way, eh?

So, now I'm faced with a life knowing that I'm basically on my own unless the world collapses in on me... Knowing that I have to be strong and suffer through things that shouldn't necessarily have to be "suffered through" for the greater good and for the good of others and their feelings. Is that the cross we "strong ones" bear or are we simply martyrs fooling ourselves and everyone else?