4-3-11 4:23 pm The Boomerang Effect

OK, it's possible I work too hard. This spring break I painted four rooms in our house, rearranged furniture and knick-knacks (yes, Mom, a few decorative items now grace various flat surfaces in our abode), and repaired a lot of stuff. In a 100 year-old house, needed repairs are easy to come by. They also happen to be easy to carry out since the original stuff was crafted using solid, real materials. I digress. Surprise, all that work's left me in rather a funk. On the other hand, the time was available. Carpe diem. This entry, however, is about what happened next. As interesting and involved as all those projects became, they definitely played the supporting role to a deeper tale of universal goodness. In the end, what impressed me the most was the kindness of strangers. So all week I've balanced between acting civil, and completing gargantuan amounts of work. It was tricky to say the least. Smiling, leaving the "b" word out of my vocabulary, all that positivity stuff sat on the back burner while I relocated garden beds, prepared soil, and planted seeds while the paint dried in bedroom number two. And yet, every single sales person, wait person, customer service clerk, heck, even my own family members who've hopefully suffered only a little with all this work, showed kindness beyond my expectations. Ever walk into your local mega-hardware warehouse, ask for something, and then at the promise of "let me find someone who can help" realize, you're watching the back of "assistance" as it walks away from you, never to return? Ever felt left in the black hole of ignorance? It never happened. All week I was met with either help or fulfilled promises of assistance. I'd go to the register and chance upon the first sales clerk I'd queried upon entering, only to be met with: "Was anyone able to help you find those clematis seeds you wanted?" In fact, help had come, the seeds were not in yet, and I'd found some other must-have's in the mean time. We visited a smaller hardware store yesterday, and the staff fell all over us with kindness. I actually momentarily flattered myself with the delusion that one of the young men working that day was flirting with me. Then it came out in our conversation that he was from the mid-west. He was just being his super-nice self. Harold agrees. Anne was helpful. She wanted to paint with me, and did when she could. When she couldn't, she diligently practiced her instruments or read. She claimed to appreciate the unlimited reading time. I certainly appreciated the work time. Harold complimented my work. He worried over me. He urged me to slow down. And then he'd thank me for all I'd done. He cooked dinner. I left my purse at a restaurant. They called my friends and family members from my cell phone before I even missed it. In what universe does that happen? Of course nothing was missing from my belongings. The next time we visited (OK, they do chocolate, and we're having a hard time staying away), our waiter recognized both me and my purse. Same guy. Same purse. Same very excellent chocolate. Ahhh. And friends got together for lunch. They celebrated my birthday. It turns out thoughtful messages in fun cards and a yummy carrot cake make me feel loved and cared for. And my daffodils bloomed. The week held its challenges. And more are yet to come. The kindnesses I experienced made up for them, will continue to make up for them, and then some. All this good energy feels like it's about more than a parsimonious universe paying me back for my lately efforts at positivity. At the risk of sounding ego-centric, I'm gonna go ahead and say that it may have had something to do with my willingness, in fact my hopefulness, to see it. I think we find what we hope for. We see what we expect. It's all about self-fulfilling prophesies, because perception is everything. Take everything for what you hope it will be, for what you hope is intended, and your wishes come to pass. It's like a perpetual prayer which keeps getting answered. Kindness has renewed my faith in the world, and with faith I go out again, looking for kindness in turn. I'm thinking I'll find it.