When I was around 10 years old, my mom purchased dozens of little buttons. They said “Don’t Postpone Joy”.
They were simple little letters on a round lapel pin, she bought them for the sole purpose of handing out to people that moved her; a tiny gesture of kindness that she would pass on to the toll booth worker or the stewardess or the cashier or the person next to her in a long line. Sometimes it was a little sticker or other tiny gift. She always had something…some proof of thought that she was thinking of you before she even met you and her mission was to connect. The greatest of the gifts that my mother dolled out was her ability to listen intently, like what you have to say is the answer to life’s meaning. No matter who you are or where you are from, my mother wants to know you, and hear about your life.
That is how I grew up, believing that each person that comes into your life is a gift.
I remember eating at a Chinese restaurant and a very large party had left without leaving a tip. We could overhear the upset in the waitress’s voice as she questioned to the manager if she had done something wrong. We heard a quiver beyond frustration or anger at being stiffed; it was this internalized fear that the tip was a reflection on who she was. I remember my mother without a second thought…..NOT A SECOND THOUGHT, insisted on paying the tip for that large party. I knew that we didn’t have money like that, I knew it was special to even be going out to dinner, and I knew that paying it forward that day was a valuable sacrifice. It was also my mothers belief system in action.
My mom believes in kindness. That is her religion, and she practices it devoutly.
There is a large homeless population where my mom lives, so the opportunities to be kind are present on every street corner. I asked her once how she handles being asked for money all the time, how does it not drain her. She said she carries Granola bars. When KIND bars came out, my mom was thrilled ” It says KIND, right on the package” she said…”it’s an immediate way to spread kindness”. I think about that every time I buy a box and hoard them for myself…Oh I tell myself if someone stumbles past me with arms outreached I will hand them one of my precious $2.49 KIND bars…but mostly I just eat them out of my purse like a crazed animal in a drive thru safari when I realize I forgot breakfast.
I am in a constant state of awe and admiration for my mom. She has compassion for simply everyone. And she is My Mom; I feel so lucky for that.
When she mentioned she would be traveling to Israel and Palestine this fall with the Compassionate Listening Project, I secretly hoped she would change her mind. I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of my mom being anywhere near what I heard about in the news. I didn’t want her near anything that could be blown up or gunned down.
Months before the trip, my mom asked me if I might provide some artwork for her to bring as little gifts to people she met along the way. We came up with the idea of little microfiber cloths with the image of “Eva’s Theory on Hearts and Hearing” upon them. “Eva’s Theory on Hearts and Hearing” is a piece I drew years ago after meeting a Hungarian woman who was learning to speak English, I had asked her what some of her favorite words are. She said ” I love the word HEART, Because it has the word HEAR in it, and we hear with our hearts”
That drawing traveled halfway around the world, to convents and refugee camps. I am so proud of that. SO thankful that my mom included me on her journey.
Of course she wanted to create something special to honor people with, She wanted to go and learn and listen to people…but she also wanted to bring something, to give them a little gift, a little proof of thought, a little bit of tangible caring. That’s my mom.
“An enemy is one whose story we have not heard.”
The words of Compassionate Listening pioneer and international peacemaker Gene Knudsen Hoffman, are written on the website of the group my mom was traveling with, They have shown up in my mind over and over again since I saw them “An enemy is one whose story we have not heard.”
It is a call to action, that we must Hear with our Hearts.
What motivated my mother to travel to Palestine and Israel, to hear stories from soldiers and civilians and discuss both sides of a never-ending conflict…that is her story to tell.
This is the Compassionate Listening Project Group that My mom travelled with,
It is my guess that the kindness, compassion and listening are how she believes we can evolve into peace, that these powerful gifts are the building blocks of resolution.
When I was a little girl, I thought Joy, meant fun and happiness. I would sometimes throw my moms sweet sentiment up in the air to get out of doing homework. ” MOM!!! lets go the park, or the movies now! come on mom, don’t postpone Joy!”
As I have have grown older, I have found joy to be much different than frivolous fun. I think about where kindness comes from, in my mom…It is not for penance, it is not to please a God or for fear of one, it is not for attention, or glory. I think joy is the fulfillment of kindness.
Now that she is home safe and she is able to teach us what she learned. I am so glad that she went, that she followed her instinct, that she followed the path of kindness and compassion that she has been on her whole life. How much better we all are for that.
I have Drawn The Conclusion that Joy is the dazzling effect of connection, when an ear is turned and one is heard. It is the shared experience of giving and receiving that is Joy…. ……..and No It should never be postponed.
Want to carry some “Don’t Postpone Joy” buttons around , to give out to people who touch your life?
Available here!
