So Miss Sophie is very particular about her morning constitutional. As I am limited as to how far I can take her in the mornings, there are days we go up and down our street, back and forth, until she is able to focus and make things *ahem* happen.
This morning it was cold. And wet. And raining. I don’t mean drizzling. It was pouring down as we went out for her to take care of business. I was surprised to see the guys working on the new house on our street. In this weather? They are solid and hard workers, I’m not even kidding. And skilled. It fascinates me to watch them bricking up the house–they are true artists.
Because of the weather I was very eager for her to take care of business and for us get back in the shelter of our home. Unfortunately, it took a few minutes for the rain to saturate through her lovely fluffy coat so she was unaware and happy. She was all about sniffing the new smells and hopping over puddles. Finally after a few minutes I saw signs that she was ready to “go.” I breathed a sigh of relief and stood ready to wait with my bag in hand. That was when I saw two of the house builders getting in a truck.
But yes, they closed the doors and started up the truck. Distracted, my particular girl gave up her intended task and watched them leave.
Oh me. I was cold and wet and frustrated. Having no idea how long it was going to take her to get situated again and thinking about the 100% chance of rain All. Day. Long. I was really frustrated. And I found myself muttering under my breath, “I hate these folks working on these houses. Man!”
Wait. What was that?
On a fluff reality TV show where the word “amazing” is used almost every twenty seconds, a guest host came in and put a jar on the counter and called it the “amazing” jar. A dollar in the jar every time that word was said. By the time the episode was over, the jar was quite full of dollar bills. Yep. Sounds about right. They do say it a lot.
After I said what I did this morning, almost without thinking, I thought of that jar. And it hit me–
those guys had no idea what I’d said about them. They weren’t hurt at all by what I’d impulsively uttered.
But I was. My heart hurt almost immediately.
When I thought of the jar, I wondered–
what if every time we utter a hateful word or have an unkind thought–
what if it helps to fill the Dark Side’s “jar?”
While I know those men didn’t feel a bit of hurt–they even gave a friendly wave as they drove past my bedraggled self and my wet pooch–I know something shifted. My heart ached. I wished I could take those unheard words back.
Because I don’t hate them. I’m actually quite impressed and thankful for them. They are doing a beautiful job.
And yet, I think that somewhere, “Darth Vader” was probably cheering over the view of what he saw and heard me say.
I can picture him, fist pumping–“Another one for our hate jar! Yes!”
I don’t know about y’all, but I don’t want to be a part of that.
Tonight I’m thankful for a reminder of the ripples our attitudes cause, even if they’re ever so small, and the reminder that every single word we utter and thought we have can change this world. Even if it’s only in our own hearts, something shifts, something changes–
and I really want it to be for the better.
I’m sad for where my mind went in its frustration today. I have a long way to go. A major character flaw, and something to work on.
(Note to self: When I’m wet and cold, I can go over to the Dark Side very quickly and quite easily. No cookies required. Be sure to guard against THAT.)
Wishing you all a day of filling the “amazing” jar instead of the hate one. Let’s make it a good day and smile–and wave in the rain. In the words of my brother, “It’s never that serious.”
Love to all.