Have you ever failed at something so thoroughly and for so long that when it’s time to stop failing you’re like, “Nah, it’s cool. I don’t even mind being a failure…” No? That isn’t how you operate? Well congratulations on being an adult or whatever, but I cannot relate. I have been sitting in front of this blank screen forEVER and I would just prefer to fail at updating this blog. I mean, it feels a little late to do anything else at this point, doesn’t it?
I used to blog literally every single day for the month of October. Then I did it on weekdays but gave myself a break for weekends. This year, I’ve blogged like three times total, put out a couple podcasts and spent the rest of the month traveling and speaking about #AdamsActs and the impact that intentional kindness can have on strangers, relationships and the world. It’s not a total failure, but when I look at the sheer lack of writing completed this month, and frankly in the past year, I can’t help but feel like I’ve failed.
Despite this fact, I HAVE been faithful in extending intentional acts of kindness toward others. For brevity’s sake, I am going to make a quick list of #AdamsActs that I have been doing while traveling and in the couple days I’ve been home between trips. Hopefully, you’ll get some ideas for yourself from this list!
Gave apples and candy to toll booth operators.
Attempted to give apples and candy to customs officials at the border of US and Canada (bringing produce across the border is frowned upon, and trying to give it to border patrol is a little bit of a crime. Must not duplicate.)
Bought a movie ticket for a stranger at this cool movie theater in Massachusetts.
Helped promote my friend’s new book: Women Reading with Cats.
Bought a copy of Women Reading with Cats for my kids.
Bought a copy of Women Reading with Cats for my cat-loving friend, Claire, and her cats. (I’m lookin’ at you, Shrimps & the gang).
Left a great review of Women Reading with Cats on Amazon because all recipients loved the book. And I really want to support the mission of the publishing company.
Spoke at a youth event, and then spent time listening to the students as they entrusted me with their own stories of great loss.
Put pasta and meatballs in cups for an on-the-go dinner for youth group kiddos.
I helped someone arrange a surprise for someone else.
Gave 7 free haircuts to friends and family.
I bought cozy socks to donate for the Socktober Sock Drive at my girls’ high school. The socks are supposed to go directly to the homeless population (socks can be a critical part of surviving winters in Upstate New York.) The students are encouraged to wear crazy socks in October… so it sort of makes sense why my daughters opened “the new socks I bought them.” Basically, we now owe the homeless people a bunch of socks.
I attended a writer’s conference and made sure to thank each breakout session speaker, and I signed up for all their newsletters and followed them on social media. It’s how writers grow their audience, so I did it even though I hate newsletters.
I didn’t throatpunch the guy who excessively mansplained TO THE SPEAKER during the session SHE was hired to teach. (This one I actually regret and would like to retroactively go back and punch him a little - or at least SAY something in the moment, because I think that would have been a greater kindness to the very qualified session leader.)
I spent time encouraging writers I met throughout the weekend. One woman from California wants to start a podcast, so I told her everything I have learned since starting the Master of Fun podcast (which is not much, but I also offered to stay in touch and keep her encouraged.)
I loudly raved about Women Reading with Cats in an effort to subliminally peer pressure conference attendees to purchase a copy. A bonus was that my behavior embarrassed my friend, (and author of Women Reading with Cats), Heather.
During the lunch break on the second day of the conference, I invited a stranger to get lunch with me and I treated.
I spoke at a corporate event downtown Detroit, that I sort of felt like I bombed, so this was neither a kindness to the clients that hired me, nor those in attendance. Something happened and I got totally stuck in my head and felt nervous the entire time I was speaking which does not generally happen. Typically, I am quite nervous BEFORE I speak… but rarely DURING, so I have no way of assessing how it really went. But, I really liked everyone I met, and decided to trust that I made a positive impact despite the possibility that I completely blew it. Basically, not obsessing about how it went is a kindness to myself.
I used Facebook Live to broadcast (in an embarrassing fashion as always) my daughter’s cross country race, it was the county championships and I try to do that as a kindness to friends and family who live out of town. It was such an exciting race and my daughter, Annalee, ended up being the Monroe County Champion by two tenths of a second!
After the race, I hosted Annalee’s whole team for a sleepover. I made treats and snacks, and helped get the house ready for all her friends to come over and not think that we are hoarders. I also bought a bunch of breakfast stuff for the morning, and sent one friend home with lunch and a pan of rice krispy treats for her family.
I encouraged and listened to a friend who is going through some personal struggles.
I said all my compliments out loud, and not just in my mind.
Every time I go through a check out line I buy a candy bar or little gift for the cashier.
That started feeling a bit predictable, so we upped our game and started surprising the cashiers in neighboring aisles as well. And most recently, Harper and I bought flowers and candy for the cashier. She was very surprised and delighted, and it was a really sweet moment. I cried a little.
I sent a message to writer and speaker, Beth Moore, which felt so ridiculous and is not something I would generally do. However, she has continually been the target of ridicule by men who are supposedly Christian leaders. This is a whole other blog post in the works, but for now… suffice it to say I didn’t feel comfortable not speaking up about it and passing along all the compassion in the world. What she experienced was gross, and it makes my skin crawl and stay tuned because once kindness month is over… on deck: all my rage and angst about this!
I provided the nurse at the elementary school with Tru Colour bandages. When our kids with black and brown skin get scraped up on the playground, someone slaps a white-people bandaid on their little brown knee and calls it a day. Ace bandages are for white people, all the bandages you can buy conveniently and affordably at any store, are for white people. The options for black adults at the store? White-people bandaids. And if you don’t like a big peach bandage on your dark brown skin… you can choose between what? Trolls and emojis? Can you imagine walking into a board meeting with a Doc McStuffins bandaid on your thumb? No, because that’s ridiculous. I think people of color deserve bandages that blend in with their skin just like the white kids. Without paying more, and without having to special order them on the internet. Yet, in general, what is available for our kids - regardless of their skin tone - are white-people bandaids. Well, not anymore, at least not at Briarwood Elementary!
I’ve politely requested at each store I go into to speak with a manager, and have asked that they consider stocking Tru Colour bandages on their shelves. It’s a small thing that all of us can do. If we all DID do this, I bet we could get an appropriate and diverse selection of bandages convenient and accessible for all people.
We published three podcast episodes - you can catch up on these HERE. As a kindness to the world, my mom (The Original Hurricane Sandi) makes a guest appearance, as does my sister, BethAnn. My sister, Kristin, also did an interview but our audio was, sadly, so horrible it proved unusable. :( Kristin’s fan base was so devastated that we ended up filling in with an episode about how to find a good therapist. These episodes are so hilarious, are my favorite and a must listen!
I’ve been intentional about using social media to encourage teenage girls.
Tipping generously, even more than normal.
Got started with painting the nursery for my friend, Lexi, and her little baby, Malik, who will be coming home from the NICU in the next couple of weeks.
Struck up conversation with strangers when they seemed like they could use a pick-me-up and friendly conversation.
Left a note and small gift card at a coffee shop and asked the barista to pass it along to the next mom who had kids-in-tow, that seemed a little frazzled.
Sent an uplifting playlist to a friend who is feeling blue.
Continually prayed for someone I hurt that has not forgiven me.
There you have it! A bunch of random and pre-planned acts of kindness that I hope give you some good ideas for how to finish out the rest of the month. It has been a weird month for me. Full transparency… it’s been a weird 38 years actually. Still, I feel good. I feel like I have done what I can do. And even though I haven’t written as much as I would have liked, I feel like I chose the better thing in the moment. Instead of keeping on top of the blog, I spent actual, uninterrupted quality time with my nieces and nephews when I was in Michigan. When I got home between speaking events and my six year old son said he felt “mom sick” from my being away so much this month… I didn’t say “I’m almost done with the busy season, bud, and I promise we will catch up in November!” I just played with him and snuggled and read him books. I let myself “fail” as a blogger in order to win as a mom.
If there is one thing I feel like this year of #AdamsActs has taught me, it’s that you can’t have it all, you can’t DO it all. And you shouldn’t have to. And most importantly, I don’t think anyone else expects us to. I don’t think anyone really cares all that much. And there is a lot of freedom in realizing that I am the only one who expects me to be perfect.
This whole movement started out because the world lost a really kind boy. Every scarecrow cookie baked, each compliment given, every note of encouragement, and each brown bandage puts a little of that lost kindness back into the world. It’s not about doing big things, or being creative… it’s about being steadfast in the small moments of connection that are made between two human beings. It’s about taking every opportunity to really SEE people, to extend kindness when you could just as easily not. It’s about a shift in the grieving process… from allowing grief to swell into something incapacitating and all-consuming, to understanding that even when we grieve, we can allow God to swell our hearts and make room for others. It’s about doing what we can, when we can. It’s not about having it all or doing it all or transforming any one person with a candy bar and flowers… it’s about being the one that is transformed.
