Gestures of Goodwill
Last week, emergency sirens jolted me and my neighbors out of bed at around 5:00 a.m., shortly before a wicked storm dropped a tornado a few blocks to the South. Baffled, panicked, and whatever the inverse of lucid is, I followed my wonky Okie instincts, stumbling into my Docs and tumbling onto the porch to see for myself what the fuss was about.
It was too dark to see the sky; however, flashes of blue-green lightning revealed crazy low clouds all around me, and a viridian afterimage of an enormous wall barreling in from the West. No flying monkeys, but WOW. I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around it. Just as I took a breath to process what to do next (“do I have time to make coffee?”), the pressure dropped out and the world went immaculately still…an eerie ellipses, a slow turn of the page…before SHAZAM. The wind made a stunning, operatic entrance, unchained and screaming like Cassandra before Apollo’s wrath, accompanied by waves of sideways rain.
“Shit!” I whispered, ever the poet, “shit shit shit,” running back inside. I threw shoes out of the closet, and, just before diving in, I wrapped myself in the enormous, weighted blanket sent to me out of the blue by a friend a few months back. “THANK YOU EMILY!” might well have been my last words, and I was totally fine with that.
[Sidebar: Emily is in an intensive degree program for social workers; her years as a mom, wife, daughter, personal coach, facilitator and champion of mental health, midwives and LGBTQ+ people everywhere, adding up to one driving goal: help vulnerable people.]
So, yeah. This extraordinary woman, whom I have never met in person, remembered my passing comment that I’d never tried a weighted blanket. So she sent one to me.
Back to the floor of my closet: despite my years on this earth and whatever sophistication my cockeyed bumbling has engendered, all that mattered to me right then was my blanky. I wasn’t alone in the world about to die - I was, for a long moment, warm and loved, listening to the storm outside, resolved to whatever was coming next.
After the storm passed with no significant damage, I joined my fellow Okies in a collective exhale, tinged, bizarrely, with slight disappointment. (Is there a German word for this?) Rather than being awed by all of What Just Happened, we’re the tiniest bit let down that Deus just rolled right on by in his tricked-out Machina, not deigning to park.
These days, I’m working hard to appreciate the drive-by. So forget the rude awakening, forget the drama and fear - Emily’s gesture of goodwill stands out above all of it.
I’m choosing to focus on “goodwill” over “gratitude” here, which can be a loaded word for me. Despite knowing full well the value of an abundance practice, the word itself still conjures memes of emotional propaganda, soothing colors and pristine fonts loaded with subtextual, Atwoodian shoulds. “Gratitude” has somehow supplanted “Live, Laugh, Love” as a kind of neon sign for privilege. “You should be grateful,” it sneers, from behind its perfect beige smile.
My personal suspicion of emotional fascism and generalized cynicism notwithstanding, I can’t deny the power of simply feeling lucky as hell to have a thoughtful friend in a moment of fear. Thank you, Emily, for all you give to the world.
While I’m at it…here are a few more small gestures of goodwill from a few of the women in my world that have made this era of life on the ledge worthwhile: thank you Moira, for playing Trash Fairy or offering containers full of “I made a little extra” when I’m on a deadline. Thank you Mel for holding my tears over a glass of {really good} champagne, Sarah for the most hysterical gifs when I’m on the struggle bus, Brandi S. for random porch gifts, Erin for the best hugs ever, Molly for professional-grade gallows humor, Kirstin for Porch Fairy treats and taking care of Lucas. Thank you Hui for the countless “let’s do it!” moments, Brandi K for always, always acknowledging group e-mails, Pat for sweet notes and clipped articles, Jess for propping me up when my knees are shaky, romy for responding with honesty and hilarity no matter the hour, Angie for hidden gifts of poetry, Kiona for sliding into the passenger seat, Mary Ellen for sharing your pain with a sideways grin, Juli for the best compliments ever, and Çâckÿ for all the “how you doing, Peach?” texts. Thank you Beth for always showing up during the biggest moments of my life, and Mom for those perfect, almost burned oatmeal cookies.
I know you didn’t stop by for an Oscar speech. But heck - write one of your own! Tiny acts of goodwill by the people in our lives have an enormous impact and they are absolutely worth celebrating and amplifying.
In fact, SPARK!’s next project is about this very thing! Why not amplify gestures of goodwill that have made a difference in our lives? For Part One, we’ll focus on healthcare workers, because damn.
In the 20 examples I’ve given above, you can see how a soft blanket in a storm can make an impact, how a kind word or other act of benevolence adds up to an abiding belief in the potential of humanity.
What about you? Do you have a story about someone who works in healthcare who has shown you kindness? MAN I’d love to hear it, and the artists of SPARK! would love to get our creative mitts on it! I’ve created a handy-dandy Google Form to make it easy for you! https://forms.gle/oj65iJr2j9jnRTKw7
Whoever you are out there, on the other side of this screen, thank you for engaging with me on a human level. That’s a gesture of goodwill in and of itself. I look forward to returning the favor.
