Intentional Acts of Compassion

I may have posted previously about Random Acts of Kindness, and I DO love them. But today, I find myself drawn to the concept of intentional acts of compassion.

The Dalai Lama is in my home (and current) town of Louisville speaking on Compassion. The Mayor of Louisville (Greg Fisher) has proclaimed Louisville to be a Compassionate City and the agency I serve as Executive Director has signed on to this charter. My entire existence--past, present and future--has existed on compassion from within and survived on compassion externally (those who compassionately and generously donate ALLOW me to survive!).

And so, I wonder, what would happen if we regularly engage in intentional acts of compassion. These are not accidental. No, they are intentional. They are thought out. They are meaningful. They are small and they are big. You can achieve big things by focusing on the small, you CAN change a life in the smallest of ways. I know it to be true because it has been true for me.

The difference here is the intention that we send out into the world. We set our mind to thinking about being compassionate towards one another as well as towards ourselves. It is just by accident, it is by design. The Dalai Lama was once quoted (in Wayne Dyer's Excuses Begone CD series, which I highly recommend to everyone) as saying if we can teach every 5 year old to meditate on Compassion for one hour a week, we can wipe out all violence in one generation. This may or may not be true, but why not give it a shot? Why not set about your life *thinking* and *intending* to do something compassionate in, to and for the world?

I believe when we intend to be compassionate, we will become compassionate. Nee, I believe we already are compassionate. When we intend to become compassionate we will align with Spirit and tap into our compassion in ways previously un-experienced. When we become compassionate individuals, we will become a compassionate home, families, neighborhoods, communities, cities, states, countries, etc. We will become a generation of Compassion.

Instead of Gen X, Gen Y or Gen ME-ME-ME, I believe the next generation can be Gen C--Generation Compassion. Someone has to lead this charge, are you in ? Maybe it is and maybe it isn't, either way that's my 26.2 compassionate cents worth...

Unsettled

Tonight is the eve of Mother's Day. I speak with my mom nearly daily and I see her several times a week. I am so fortunate, and yet I lie on my couch in a state of complete and utter unsettledness.

Those of you who have followed my marathon journey from running 26.2 miles physically into the metaphoric world of running the marathon of being a single parent to a child with a past checkered with adults who either didn't know how or wouldn't act upon their knowledge to be loving, caring and healthy moms and dads. . . that's a run on sentence, but hey, this is a marathon blog so a run on sentence seems fitting in an unsettled kind of way.Anyway, y'all know i Have a child now. That's the point I was trying to get and only realized in hindsight and proofing I forgot to make the point.

As we are all celebrating our moms and how wonderful they are my kid will be reminded of how shitty his was. He will be reminded of the inner conflict and raging fire that burns in two directions of hating her and yet wanting to be with her. He will be reminded, yet again, of how different he is from the mainstream. He has noone to buy flowers for, a card for, to do something extra nice for. Someone to say thank you to. Someone to pamper for the day. Someone to tuck him in and say, "you've made my life incredible!" in a motherly kind of way. I'm a single parent and I wear the hate of mom and dad, but I'm not a mom and I cannot be a substitute. no, I won't steal my child's story from him and insult his experiences. But I want to. I want to snatch him up and cradle him in my arms as I so fondly remember my mom doing time and time again. I want to be the familiar scent that belonged only to my mom. I want to erase the horrible memories and replace them with loving ones.

I want for my child everything that I had growing up and deserved absolutely no more than my child deserves today. But that cannot happen. Maybe I'm just being melodramatic and ego centric. Maybe it isn't that big of a deal at all. Maybe I'm over-analyzing. I don't even know where my thoughts are going except that tonight, after nearly four months, my kid could not go to sleep for fear of a stranger breaking in and murdering him and him not being able to scream loudly enough for me to hear. And this is after we honored and celebrated my mom all this past week. I weep for a childhood that was not lost to my child, rather it was never given to him.

And so tomorrow when churches are full of people honoring their moms and giving them flowers (we will be hosting my own mom for mid-morning brunch) I ask that you join me in lifting all our momless brothers and sisters up. Lord, hear our prayers, replace the hatred with love, the rage with understanding. The anger with compassion. Replenish empty coffers gone hard and cold from rejection. Heal those who are hurting and those engaged in healing. Inspire those who have not seen, but can do so much more. Enable each of our hands, hearts, bodies and minds to be vessels of endless love, boundless joy, contagious laughter and healing touch. Let us be enough. Let us love enough. Let us mom enough.

I don't even know if that's 26.2 cents worth or not, but there it is.