You Are A Kindness

Microseason No. 37, August 7-11

I’m coming to see that savoring the microseasons is an act of kindness.

The kindness of utter simplicity.

In order to enjoy the microseasons, there is no long do-list to accomplish. No classes to take or supplies to buy. No experts to consult.

The challenge is to make myself simple, which takes courage. To give priority to something that, on the surface, might feel unproductive.

This is a great freedom— a great kindness.

I simply take a bit of time to go out and observe the day, to see if I can notice a few of its layers. These layers build upon themselves like the leaves on the forest floor slowly turning into humus.

What if we accept each microseason as a unique and necessary contribution to the layers of time? And the microseasonal layers of our time are also adding essential chapters to the ongoing story of our lives.

Kindness takes many forms.

We are kind to strangers, but why is it so hard to be kind to ourselves?

And what about the “stranger” who is our past self? The one who was young and naive, maybe too trusting of others? Or who made choices that we feel shame for today? Are we kind to that stranger, who might be nearly unrecognizable to us now? Can we learn to incorporate the layers of the past in a healthy way?

The layers protect and nourish the roots along with everything that’s hidden beneath that will emerge in its season, and not a moment before.

Q:  How do I savor a microseason?

A:  By many simple acts of kindness.

Try this: Be kind to yourself. Get up and take a shower. Wash off the dream scenes and disjointed feelings and conversations of the night. Put on something ridiculously comfortable. If you’re able, go outside—wherever you are—for a little while—whatever the weather is today. Go out for a few minutes and make note of what your senses find. See if there is a gift waiting for you— some subtle shape or color or scent that pokes at your curiosity.

Now just take it in.

Take a breath. Take in a small perfection of line, and leaf, and symmetry.

Make a photo, a sketch, or a little video— or nothing at all.

It’s fine either way.

You can paint a vivid memory of any moment of beauty, or strangeness, or curiosity in your mind— just keep looking until you can still see it when you close your eyes.

This is a microseasonal moment in time.

This is kindness.

See you in the next microseason,

—Ann