On Boston and Kindness

"On days like this there are no Republicans or Democrats—we are Americans, united in concern for our fellow citizens." —President Obama

 

 Horrific shock in Boston today.  Two explosions.  So far two people killed and it's uncertain how many are seriously injured.  What I can do is send love, peace, and prayers.  And to ease my sadness, I write.

 

My greatest hope at this moment is that all of us—every human being—will recognize that we're all one.  May we let go of hate.  May we feel a sense of unity and common purpose.  Democrats, Republicans, Independents—all religions, all races, all regions of this beautiful Country.    At the end of this day Beantown was expecting celebration to mark this year's Boston Marathon, where runners from all over the world participate after qualifying.  Instead, the day is ending in tragedy, the air filled with fear, pain and loss.  May we recognize and remember we're  all in this together.  We are Boston.  We are everyman, everywoman, and everychild, dealing with this stunning event.

 

Beginning now, may we set our intention to treat one another with greater kindness.  Today and every day. That means people we know and love, people who are difficult to love, and perfect strangers.   And let's keep the kindness going—even after today becomes yesterday, last week, last year and once upon a time.

 

 I'm about to post something that helped me deal with the tragedies in Japan not so very long ago.  Although I won't make a habit of sharing poems here,  I believe Naomi Shihab Nye's "Kindness" might inspire us to be better and do better.  Maybe we'll put away our devices long enough to take ourselves outdoors to experience the healing balm of Mother Nature.  Soon a waxing crescent Moon will smile down on us earthlings.   Maybe we will begin to look into each other's eyes and listen—respectfully and with kindness—to whatever is being said.  Even if we don't agree with a word of it.  I'm saying this for my own benefit as well as for Lucy visitors.  

 

Peace to Boston.   Peace to each and all.  

 

       Kindness

by Naomi Shihab Nye

 

Before you know what kindness really is

you must lose things,

feel the future dissolve in a moment

like salt in a weakened broth.

What you held in your hand,

what you counted and carefully saved,

all this must go so you know

how desolate the landscape can be

between the regions of kindness.

How you ride and ride

thinking the bus will never stop,

the passengers eating maize and chicken

will stare out the window forever.

 

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,

you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho

lies dead by the side of the road.

You must see how this could be you,

how he too was someone

who journeyed through the night with plans

and the simple breath that kept him alive.

 

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,

you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.

You must wake up with sorrow.

You must speak to it till your voice

catches the thread of all sorrows

and you see the size of the cloth.

 

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,

only kindness that ties your shoes

and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,

only kindness that raises its head

from the crowd of the world to say

It is I you have been looking for,

and then goes with you everywhere

like a shadow or a friend.