“I’ve been thinking about the way, when you walk down a crowded aisle,

people pull in their legs to let you by.

Or how strangers still say “bless you” when someone sneezes, a leftover from the Bubonic plague.

“Don’t die,” we are saying.

And sometimes, when you spill lemons from your grocery bag,

someone else will help you pick them up.

Mostly, we don’t want to harm each other.

We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot,

and to say thank you to the person handing it.

To smile at them and for them to smile back.

For the waitress to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder,

and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass.

We have so little of each other now.

So far from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.

What if they are the true dwelling of the holy,

these fleeting temples we make together when we say,

“Here, have my seat,”

“Go ahead — you first,”

“I like your hat.”

– Danusha Lameris

For some time now, I’ve really worked to sow little seeds of kindness wherever and whenever I can — letting people merge in traffic ahead of me, taking people’s grocery carts off their hands when they’re finished loading their cars, complimenting people out loud instead of admiring something about them in my head, that sort of thing. But lately I’ve had a nagging feeling that there’s an area of kindness I’m neglecting — one that pertains to judgement and grace. It started as a small hum in my spirit, but today I heard it loud and clear.

As I walked to my car in a parking lot, I saw a very large car over swerve into the empty space next to mine, coming within inches of hitting my beloved little car — a car so new to me that I’ve only made a few payments on it. My heart jumped into my throat as I watched the driver back up and pull back into the spot at least three times to correct her parking mishap. I was frozen in place, watching her maneuvering with my arms folded and a “don’t you do it, lady” head wag on full display. And she was well aware of her audience. She finally settled in the spot with plenty of room to open her door without hitting my car. She gave me a weak smile and a hello as she got out and went on her way. Silently still wagging my head, I got to my car, swung open the door…and barely caught myself from banging the door of the car next to me. After realizing what I’d almost done, I immediately had the thought “Yeah. You see that? Girl, you are NO DIFFERENT from anyone else and you screw up, too,” followed closely by, “Judge not lest you be judged.” It was a little bit of karma served with a side of humble pie.

There’s more to kindness than buying coffee for the person behind you or helping someone pick up their spilled fruit off the floor. (Or putting up SUPER COOL Halloween decorations for others to enjoy, like this one from my neighborhood.) Perhaps one of the greatest gifts of kindness we can extend is taking a pause before passing judgement. That moment of acknowledgement that no one is perfect (especially me) and that we should abundantly gift the grace we hope to receive.

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