A magical Part II to the Kind Stranger Story

Dear Friends

I’ve had so many responses to my story about the stranger who paid our bill yesterday. Thank you! How did I get so lucky to know so many wonderful people? I’m thinking about HOW I can get you all involved in something meaningful that we could do together. Thank you. 

That’s not why I am writing though.

Something even more wonderful happened after I published my story yesterday. One of my friends wrote a post on my Facebook early this morning to tell me how much she loved the idea of “paying it forward”. Like so many of you, she was also inspired. So, off she went to breakfast. She was sitting there, planning to paint the world with kindness today. She contacted me again a couple of hours later. Guess what happened to her? SOMEONE PAID HER BILL! I kid you not. 

I am absolutely blown away by the power of our intention. I know the theory. I just need to see it in the flesh every now and then. 

Don’t we all? 

xoxo

Lee 

ORIGINAL POST FROM YESTERDAY FOR THOSE WHO DIDN’T SEE IT (plus a pic of the toastie you have been drooling over)

There are some really nasty people in this world. Trust me, I have had my fair share of them over recent months. From the word-twister to the gaslighter, from family members playing one against the other to the repeat cry-wolf types. 

But, damn there are some amazing human beings on this planet.And, again I didn’t really have to travel very far (not that I could) to find them. 

Just this morning, I was sitting with a friend having one of my most favourite meals : a piece of sourdough toast, slathered with a thick layer of hummus, topped with sliced avocado, grilled balsamic basted baby tomatoes, a couple of blocks of rich Danish feta, rocket and a poached egg. Yes, all on one piece of toast! 

If this be my last meal, make that a double portion of hummus, please! 

So, there I am, staring into my friend’s amazing emerald eyes (which seem to pop because of the absence of her hair which is tucked into her hijab) having a foodgasm when the waitress pops over to let us to knowsomeone paid our bill.  And, like every good superhero, they vanished without a trail. Can you imagine!?

My friend’s reaction was the one I want you to focus on though. She said “thank you. We’ll pay it forward!” 

I’m inspired guys! I’m inspired by what kindness can do. I’m inspired to give more and do more and be more. 

…and I think I am going to heed her call to action and pay it forward more than I usually do. With a full heart and grateful for all the moments that just land in my lap to remind me to focus on the things that matter. 

Will you join me?

xoxo

Lee

Reflections on Mama Karma through 3 generations

 

My daughter is beginning to get embarrassed by me. Not by anything I do/say/wear or how I use my hands to eat. Just ME. The whole package. Even when I am silent and using a knife and fork to eat pizza.

 

There’s a blush beginning to develop. A very faint pink flush but it’s there all right. It’s there and I know it well.

 

From experience.

 

It really brings into focus my relationship with my own mother, who was a non-conformist of note. And while I can be a real people-pleaser, never wanting to cause any waves, she was very much the opposite.  

 

She would embarrass me constantly too. Not by anything she did/said/wore (well sometimes the Converse trainers and expletives were a bit much) or how she smoked with the young girls while her peers drank tea in a circle saying the rosary. No, just by being herself. 

 

And history will judge us both.

 

Me for being me, slightly too teacher’s pet, always wondering how I can change/ tone down/conform.

 

And her for daring to stand out.

 

As for my daughter, the blush still needs to mature to a deep red, I’m afraid. I mean, what’s a childhood if not filled with cringe worthy moments unwittingly created by our parents? That’s karma right?

 

Hopefully by the time my sweet girl becomes an adult, her reflections and experience of the “blush”, will guide her to a place where she too can just BE. You know, just be herself, with the full appreciation that we are all different, all the same….and that’s wonderful.

 

Now shhhh, don’t tell her this BUT if she leans a little more towards the nature of her rebel of a gran, then that means my work is done.

 

That will be karma too. A fate I will gladly accept.

 

 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

The Zahir (A story about getting even)

I was NOT happy with my accommodation. I booked a self-catering apartment on the beach (with “distant sea views”) and when I arrived, I found that I had actually booked a whole house (with a person inside it)

 

Now, if I have gotten a good vibe from the person, I would have thought that perhaps there was an adventure to be had, but I did not.  It was definitely NOT love at first sight.

 

Her bedroom became my bedroom. Her spot on the couch mine. The coffee mug with her name called my name. Shit was weird.

 

But, I was there on a “pilgrimage” of sorts, and I needed to remain centered.

I noticed that the book on the bedside table happened to be “The Zahir” by Paulo Coelho — one of the very few of his books I had not yet read and the VERY book I had lost in the airport. It was fate.  There was no way I was going to be polite and let her continue reading it, so I grabbed it.  I carried it around the house from room to room (just in case she pounced) and savoured each beautiful moment of reading pleasure. 

 

The home owner had a way about her. Even when you could not see her, she was there.  Like in Big Brother.  She was hard to ignore.

 

I got lost in the pages of the book, and each time I felt irritated by her presence (washing the dishes, folding towels, bloody making coffee at 5am) I would just keep reading. It came as no surprise to me that The Zahir means ‘the obvious’ or ‘conspicuous’ in Arabic.  I mean, what are the chances?  Those were the only words I could use to describe the home owner. Always bloody there!

 

I wrote her a note when I left. I said “Thank you for sharing your home with me. I will always remember your presents…I mean presence! xoxo”

 

…and then I tucked her book (aka the “present”) into my suitcase, along with the mandatory miniature toiletries and waved her goodbye.

 

I figured we were square.

 

© A Heart Full of Stories, 2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Lee-Ann Mayimele and www.aheartfullofstories.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Let it go!

I believe in punctual, prepared and well-groomed.

So, I arrived 10 minutes early, took out my research notes and hung up my favourite navy blue Zara blazer.

The waitress with her strong perfume seated me.  I felt nauseas. 

I noticed that feeling again. The same feeling I had when I was driving to the meeting.

My guest arrived 20 minutes late.  We ordered tea.

She had not prepared for the meeting.  She had not signed the Non-Disclosure Agreement I had sent her either.   In fact, she had not even looked at it.

I should have stopped right there.

Instead, I ordered some more tea and she pitched her ideas to me. I loved them.  There was definite synergy there.  A partnership was on the cards. I was excited.

She texted a lot during the meeting.  She also took 3 or 4 calls.  I used one of those moments to go to the ladies room.  I looked at myself in the mirror and shook my head a few times. 

The rest of the meeting was fun.  We laughed lots, ordered lunch and lots more tea. I noticed that her shirt had stains on it. 

By 6pm I had forgotten all about the weird feelings and the stains.  Creative juices were flowing and we were making plans to take over the world together. She was so smart!

Well, things began to fall apart a week later.  She landed a contract.  Alone.  Solo.  With my ideas, though my contacts, without me.

I was mad.

I was sad.

I was jealous.

I was disappointed.

So, guess what I did?  I chose to let it go. 

No, I am not a saint!  Nor do I believe in karma.   I don’t even subscribe to the philosophy that “the wheel turns”.

I chose to let it go because as I said, I believe in being punctual, prepared and well-groomed and let’s face it, if I let that tart take any of my time and energy, I will be none of those for my beautiful future.

Aluta continua I say!  Let it go