Compassion, for a minute

Yesterday I played with a stranger's five-year-old granddaughter in a waiting room. It helped the child, and her grandmother, it gave me something good to do while I waited, and she was quieter so it might have helped those in the room who weren't feeling well. The little girl was one of those, so the distraction helped her forget she was at a clinic. I gave her tissues and told her mine were softer than those in the box on the table. Her grandmother thanked me.

Looking for a quote for this post, I found something 11 years old. Part of it was this:

Each day for a year, could you add one minute to the time you spend with a child? Any child. One extra minute. If you can infuse that moment with love or compassion, bonus!

I suppose that would be a minute you could be doing something else, but I doubt it would be something better.

The longer writing, with another story: 1/11/11
photo by Sarah S.

Small part of a big deal

Your own dwelling place is a small part of the whole universe. The things you have collected, and that you use, are all part of the universe.

From the point of view of your family (especially the younger members), where you live is HUGE, and detailed, and familiar, but the outside world starts off vague and hardly real.

All these perspectives make sense, depending on the moment and the context. Go with what is sweet and peaceful and feels safe and good.

SandraDodd.com/perspective
photo by Monica Molinar

Wonderful warm feelings

Brie Jontry wrote:

When we stretch beyond seeing more than only one or two possibilities, our children's worlds become exponentially larger, with more potential for laughter and learning and wonderful warm feelings of connection.

—Brie Jontry

SandraDodd.com/screentime.html
photo by Cátia Maciel

Reading minds; thinking thoughts

Sometimes I think I know what someone is thinking, or what my cat wants. Sometimes I'm right.

When someone, or my cat, thinks about something I don't know anything about, the eyes, face or posture can't give me any clues, and my guesses are all wrong.

People can think thoughts, but they can't really read minds very well.

Quiet enough to hear
photo by Gail Higgins

Bridges and reflections

When I look at a bridge, I think of travel, of engineering, of safety, and of history. Even new bridges change history as soon as they can be used.

In this photo, the arches are reflecting and making a round shape. That's always fun. There is also roundness in the tree to the right, and in its reflection in the water. The bank of the river has a rounded edge, and is covered with rounded pebbles.

Others, seeing that, might be thinking of what birds live around there, or other wildlife. If it's someone familiar with the area, they will know where the road goes, maybe who owns the land, and who used to own it before that.

Kids, seeing it, might wonder first "Could we get IN that water?" Wild swimmers (people who like to swim in naturally occurring waters) probably had that thought before any other.

Any scene is many things. The knowledge and perspective of each viewer is different. People spot different things and make their own connections.

SandraDodd.com/connections
photo by Ester Siroky

Careful steps

Plans and hopes are wispy.

On the part of the path you can see, take a careful step when you're ready.

Running won't help. Be there, be aware, relax and appreciate what you see, and smell, and hear. Your family shouldn't rush into the unknown, but step together into the next moment.

SandraDodd.com/moment
photo by Gail Higgins

Don't break the spell

Thoughts don't show. Provide opportunities and time. Watch quietly. Don't break the spell.

SandraDodd.com/quiet
photo by Sandra Dodd