Kindness

It seems as if we live in a world where kindness is taken for granted. It is accepted but rarely appreciated, and hardly ever rewarded.

This is why it does not surprise me when people are so rude. Perhaps at one point in their life they had shown kindness to others, but were only given grief and heartache in return. This might have been a cause for their sad state. How depressing is it to go through life and never have a kind or thoughtful word escape your lips? They probably do not care how other people view them. Whether they are known to be sarcastic, rude, or just plain mean. But that really isn't the issue. The issue is how they feel about themselves after putting someone down. I suppose it is a false sense of power. However, I cannot help but wonder that, in the end, they wish for a change.

I try to be kind; there are times I find myself having trouble keeping that always positive smile imprinted on my face. When walking down a crowded hallway people are going in every direction. They are cutting in and out, small groups stopping in the middle of the traffic, and others just trying to get from one end of the hall to the other. Being polite in these situations is a challenge for me. I want to just scream "get out of my way" but I know that would be no use. So I side step and allow people to pass, and will hold open a door. Not once will a thanks spill out of one mouth. It is as if it is expected, not something that a person does just to be kind.

Without gratitude kindness becomes dreary. Sometimes I forget to stop and think that maybe just by one act, a smile or a thank you, could changes a persons day. Just one moment can make all the difference. It is my own choice if I want to make this difference for the better or for the worse. How is it that I am allowed to hold so much power?

As I sit here rereading my thoughts my mind has changed. I wrote the above earlier. And although I support most of what I say, I failed to shine a light on the more positive experiences of kindness. The ones that make being kind not so dreary anymore.

Yesterday I was at a food court with some of my art class friends and as I held the door open there were a few “thank you”s that were sent in my direction. I appreciated them as I wondered if they had always been there. Maybe I just forgot to listen. I went to get Chinese food and I was the only one in line. There was an older Chinese man serving me. It looked as if he had been there a long time. For the minute that he gave me my order I tried everything I could to make him smile. It did not take much; just a few “thank you”s, a smile and a nod. As I was picking up my tray to leave he reached into the jar of fortune cookies and gave me one. Since they were not free I tried to deny the offering, but it was a gift. We did not even speak the same language but each of us impacted the other.

That small spark of appreciation in an older lady’s eyes as you help her with a door and the look of surprise when you find the owner of the dropped money, this is what makes it worth the effort. I believe it is because of these small occurrences in life that some people choose kindness.

I am discovering that it is not about praise, rewards, or pats on the back that we are kind. We are kind to make those around us happier.

My Art

There is so much in life that I want to do. I want to help people, have a family, write a book, travel, and these are barely a dent in my endless list of goals. I would love to be an artist, but I don't know if that could be my only profession. Maybe one day I will be well known and talented enough to make a living from my art, but I truly don't see that happening. But that doesn't mean I will stop creating.
The truth is that no matter where I go in my future art will always be with me. I want to travel and paint what I see and feel. I want to learn more as I grow, and since I am growing my art will grow as well. Art will be in my future. I have found something that I love, something that is a part of me. Painting has trained my hands to work in delicate situations. This could affect my future career options if I decide to become a surgeon. Using the delicate instruments is similar to a paint brush, and surgery is even viewed as an art form by many.
I began taking art classes when I was in the seventh grade. I had never used oils, only pencil. I was a very shy girl in this new art class that was full of strangers. I did not speak much; I would only talk if I needed help from my teacher. After a while I did open up. The art gave us all an even field. We were connected by it, if nothing else. I grew because of this. However, I did not just grow as an artist, I grew as a person. It has given me the chance to be who I am and discover who I want to be.
All of my emotions and my creativity are reflected through my art work. I discover more about myself. I can stand in front of a blank canvas for hours and have no idea what to put on it. I think of a million things, but not one seems right. Then the idea hits me, and I know exactly what I want to paint or draw. I can work for hours and not even realize the time that has gone by. When I was younger I use to have crayons, just like most other kids. I loved the colors, the shapes, and trying to draw what I saw. I did not realize that these colors and shapes would impact my life so much. I did not realize the self expression that came from the tip of the paint brush or the emotion that can be created with a pencil.