Random Acts of Kindness Poem

Random Acts of Kindness Poem

Always practice compassion and be awake to notice opportunities in which to jump in and seize little opportunities to uplift another. This is why we are here. I was told once, by an intuitive, that my calling is compassion and that has haunted me ever since. I am constantly contemplating the meaning of compassion and ways in which I can be compassionate.

The Exhilaration of Compassion

Everyday people ask what it takes to be happy.
They’d pay anything just to be happy.
But happiness eludes them.
Articles and books are written.
Counselors paid.
Talks given.
Attempting to answer this question.

Listen well, my friends.

One time, more than a decade ago.
Going by the kiosk on the toll road.
The manned station informed us.
That the vehicle prior had paid our $7 toll.
I never paid it forward then.
But I’m still trying.

It’s an auspicious event at the Shambhala center.
We are lined up to pay and enter the great hall.
The credit card device isn’t working.
The lady ahead hasn’t enough cash.
I hand her what she needs.
The growing line moves ahead smoothly.
I feel so good.

Normally, I don’t give cash to panhandlers.
But today his blue eyes penetrate mine.
As I leave Safeway. We talk. He has his story.
And eyes Yves Klein would envy.
I have a twenty in my purse doing nothing.
It’s his now.
There is oneness.

In a gas stop somewhere unimportant.
Where dogs roam in rural New Mexico.
The young overweight lady with face and tongue piercings.
Cashier’s petty food items.
Salted pistachios, cherry mash candy, throw away lighters.
Her preschool age son stands next to her.
Piercings repulse me.
I judge that they are an advertisement.
For self-hatred.
As I am up next in line to pay.
Someone suddenly says, “I like your piercings.”
It is I.
With a smile of surprise her face lit up.
But not as much as I did inside.

The corporation changed its billing method.
No phone number to call and online a chatbot.
My blood pressure rises.
Finally a real person in the chat box.
Obviously lacking English language skills.
Obviously chatting with many of us at once.
Requiring patience on my part.
As this faceless worker tries to help.
The corporation is a necessary evil in my mind.
Together, we struggle through my request.
Finishing up, I type “Thanks and have a beautiful day.”
The worker, so surprised, responds that if only.
More people. Were friendly like that.
Our connection lifted me high.

The shooter killed ten people.
In my grocery store. Many gather here now, two days later.
Asking why. Not understanding.
A stranger. All alone.
Sobs on one knee in the winter grass.
I go over a put my hand on his shoulder.
He thanks me.
We are both uplifted.

Near a park bench in this mountain town, a wide-eared boy.
Struggles to pull his fishing line out from the tree branch.
His younger brother tries to help but also fails.
I go over and suggest they walk towards me.
And use more force. Which they do.
The lure pops out of the tree.
I go on my way. Elated to weave.
Myself into their web of life’s challenges.

Oh, please, Madame Universe.
Offer me more random opportunities like these.
And, also, please, let me be awake to notice them.

This is the priceless secret, my friends.
It is more blessed to give than to receive.

Fret no more about where joy and happiness come from.
Compassion in action is exhilarating.

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