Counting stars

I saw stars in the sky tonight, it’s a little thing that makes me happy. They’re always there though, whether we see them or not.

I remember being told not to count stars when I was a kid. They’d say we’d get ugly pimples on our face if we counted stars, which is really weird. I wonder where that superstition came from. I remember catching myself counting them, while we were sleeping on the roof and I’d close my eyes and force myself to stop, afraid of their warnings. It’s amazing what they can get us to believe as kids.

Afternoons in the kitchen

The kitchen is a cool place to hang out in. The view here isn't bad, there’s a chain of mountains in view. And the first thing your eyes land on is probably the school nearby. I watched as the kids were waiting for their buses today and I remembered the joy we felt as the bell rang announcing the end of the 8th class. School seems a lifetime ago for some reason.

I was so close to napping. Sleep is getting the better of me these days. To break the routine, I thought I’d come sit here and try to do something useful. And I found my way writing. So I made myself a cup of tea. I basically read, read, read, write, read, sleep in more or less that order these days.

I catch myself sitting quietly trying to get rid of everything running around in my head. I’m tired of fighting myself, trying to find the right words, trying to figure people out and trying to figure myself out. Pages and pages of words can do wonders to calm you down.

I can’t be tempted to go outside, the heat is unbearable. So I don’t know what to do with my time, well, I do know but I’d rather sit and do nothing instead.
I’m just not really interested in the outside world right now.

Pride

They talk about ‘dignity’ and ‘pride’ as things that stop them from reaching out. I understand, or at least I used to. I never really cared for such things, it never crossed my mind that my dignity is on the line here. Although, in many instances it were. And I put myself in situations I alone could be blamed for. I talk a lot of nonsense, I do silly countless things, I act like a kid, and most people would tell me to calm down a little. Sometimes it’s for my own good, and sometimes it’s for theirs; to preserve some of their dignity.

That’s all very fine, but when it comes to doing someone good it becomes a different matter altogether. You’re putting yourself in a situation where you can get rejected. They might not appreciate it, you might have tried before and you’ve reached a limit. Maybe your pride can’t take it anymore, and people can be challenging in many ways. They have enormous power to break you. And you start to think, is it worth it?

I’ve recently noticed how I’ve begun to care about my pride as well. I catch myself thinking a thousand times before doing something good which shouldn’t be thought twice about. I haven’t felt that my pride did me any good. It only made me regret so many missed opportunities at kindness. So I’ve started to wonder, what good will my pride do me? What good is a pride that maintains distance, offers no solace, leaves you alone, cold and unfeeling?

So what if you’re rejected? So what if they don’t take the hand you’re offering? If one out of a hundred or thousand extended hands were taken, it would make all the difference. How do you know which help you offer might lighten a heavy soul? How do you know which smile you offer might make someone’s day? How will you go on being selective about giving when you want help every time you’re down?

Everything you do finds its way back to you, believe me. And even if it doesn’t, even if your pride is shattered and your kindness rejected, what a humbling experience it can be. And we all could use some humility.
I write this to remind myself that in order to receive kindness, one must be kind.