I Can’t Change the World

But I can make it prettier for someone.

Let me start off by saying I will write something more lighthearted tomorrow.  I even already know (mostly) what it will be about, as my girl K is taking her first walk into Nerdvana and playing D&D.  How can you not document someone taking that first walk and saying, “Yes, I am a Nerd.  Yes, I own my own set of polyhedral dice and I know how to use them!”  So fear not, my dearest friend, I have something fun planned for tomorrow (or Monday – I may be playing Mass Effect 2 tomorrow.  My girl Shep is heartbroken and on a Collector ship.  I can’t just leave her there!)

Yesterday I had what I like to call a “moment of clarity” day.  I have these from time to time, a minute, an hour, a day, sometimes longer, where I just feel inspired to do something.  In those moments I feel like the world is a big place and it would be nice to do something, well, nice.  This stemmed from a conversation on Facebook posts and how when people post things, like pictures with quotes, or some inspirational thing, FFAC felt that the novelty wears off if you do it all the time.  I see what he is saying, but I don’t agree.  I think people just have their own moments of clarity, and want to spread it around.

Let me tell you a truth about me.  I am not always nice.  I am not happy all of the time, or even put together.  Most days are a great success if I manage to get out of the house on time with my hair brushed and clothes fully on.  I am on point if I don’t forget a child on my way out of the door, and sometimes I have felt too tired to get Girl2 out of bed when she refuses.  I will put things down and forget about them for weeks, and then freak out when I can’t find them.  Honestly, peeps, I am a mess.  Most of the time.

Sometimes though, out of the chaos, will come forth this put together alter-ego.  She tells me that it’s ok to be a mess, and maybe, just maybe, we can do something nice today for someone.  Maybe someone is having my normal, crazy, unkempt hair day and buying them a cup of coffee will make them smile.  Maybe it’s just opening a door and holding it for someone as they are hurrying around the parking lot.  I’ll smile and tell them to take their time, I’m not rushing them, but we can go in together.  It’s human condition.

I can’t be like this all the time.  It’s exhausting, and unrealistic.  I don’t think I am the only one to get wrapped up in my life and to go through my days at 90 mph.  I think those moments of clarity happen, and it is my choice to do what I will with them.  FFAC had mentioned that it takes a tragedy to make people want to do things, and on some level, he is right.  People, as a whole, tend to act after a tragedy.  We are usually compassionate, and want to help in whatever ways we can.  My answer to this is, “What if we stopped just acting after tragedies and just acted?”  What if it became just something that is done?

I want to leave that example for my kids.  My children who pretty much usually think of themselves (because to them their world really does revolve around them).  I want them to find the joy of giving back, or learning how to be the recipient of a random act of kindness.  I want to teach them about giving and receiving, both hard things to learn.  Maybe I can just advise them of moments of clarity and hope that they will be inspired on what to do with them.

I can’t change the world.  I am way too logical and realistic to think I can.  Maybe, through my random acts in my moment of clarity, I can make it better for one person.  One person’s world may be a little better for a day.  In turn, that person may choose to do their own act, ala pay it forward, or they may not.  It doesn’t matter, really.  In the end, for me, it really is about going to bed and knowing I did something to make the world a little bit better than it was when I woke up.

For the record, today is a barely hair brushed kind of day.  As I write this, Girl2 is running around naked, singing loudly and climbing on me like a jungle gym.  I want the words Mom/Mommy/Mother banned from the English language (though I have a feeling that she would just learn it in another language, so let’s strip it all together).  If I hear one more stomping footstep, I may scream.   So, no, I am definitely not perfect.  After I post something, I usually read it over and will find some typos, but I don’t fix them.  I’m not perfect, and I love it.  Come have some coffee with me, and let’s just strive to get through.

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