KINDNESS POLICE (A story about fickle people)

I’m always surprised when someone I know is funny towards me.


I bumped into one such acquaintance recently. I walked away from a brief encounter with her wondering if she actually knew me at all. She certainly made no effort whatsoever to be warm or receptive. She was entirely self-absorbed, in a vain, I’m-very-important kind of way.


Now, of course I have had plenty of experience with people like that: the full range from mild to extra hot bitches, from the subtle frenemies to the full-on social food chain hoes. But I walked away from my brief encounter wondering why it still unnerved me. I shouldn’t give a damn, right?




As I touched up my lipstick in the ladies room, I caught a glimpse of my daughter’s two little ponies in the mirror.


I immediately thought about how many times in her life she will have to interact with funny people.


And, of course, I wanted to write her a note:


My little one,


You are enough.

You have always been enough.

You will always be enough.


But there are people in this world who will leave you feeling less than that. Sometimes knowingly. Often unwittingly.


Be happy anyway.

Shine your light bright anyway. 

Talk lots, laugh lots, be open and receptive. 

Or be quiet.

Oh, be whatever the hell you want to be! 


But, do be kind. It’s for YOU.  





Just before heading home, I was standing talking to a warm person. A really humble person. A pretty important person too. She was actually the VIP of the event we were attending.


And, of course my old fickle “friend” headed our way, smiling at ME as if to say “ohhhh there you are!” (Ja right!)


My daughter needed to wee and for once, I was glad to rush off to her aid.


Because even the “kind” girls reach their bullshit ceiling. And I had had enough for one day.


© A Heart Full of Stories, 2016


P.S. Friends, I am by no means asking you to be spend your days and nights fretting about every person who makes a dent on your rainbow. No, no no!  I am only asking that you be sensitive enough to notice the dent they make. And move on. For you!


Aluta continua, as they say.  We’re all on this journey together.

The Power of ART to touch the HEART

I was drawn to a lady.


I saw her in the window. Not in an Amsterdam Red Light District kind of way. No, it was a statue of a lady to be exact and she was beautiful with the aura of a wise old soul.


I wasn’t sure if she was for sale, but I followed my instinct and went inside.  Aha, I thought, I am a genius! My friend’s 40th birthday was coming up, and although I was more than one month early, I was sorted. I could tick her gift off my list.


After she became mine, the lady stayed in my car for a day or two. Then I moved her to the office. She looked happy.


When we closed for the Christmas holidays, I moved her back to my car.  She didn’t seem to mind that either.


But it was only until I mounted her in the perfect spot in my home (okay, this is still sounding Red Light-ish), that she really seemed to come alive.  What a magnificent piece of art she was, revealing her essence slowly and seductively, ever so subtly like a Picasso may have done.


My fascination with the lady grew each day. I noticed she was holding her hands together, palms up, as though she was either offering or accepting something.  I loved that I didn’t know which it was and that I still needed to find out exactly what she was up to.  The mystery intoxicated me.


Days went by, and she was still mounted.  I justified her hanging to myself by saying “It needs to stay out of the way of the kids” but God knows, I was planning a coup. Her spell was cast and there was no way I could entertain the thought of parting ways. Not yet.


When my friend came around after her holidays, I was so delighted to see her.  She brought spices and spices make my heart sing.


While I was opening the wine, my daughter stormed into the kitchen and said “Mama is soooo mad, you know!?”


The holidays had been long and I must say, the manners-barometer was shaky.


My friend played along, “Yes, darling. Why is your mama so mad?”


“Well, you see that” she said pointing to the lady.  My heart pounded hard. “Well, she bought that for yourrrrrrrrrr birthday surprise, but now she says it’s hers and you are getting a…..” 


My reaction was swift.


I said “Damn kids of today!” and rolled my eyes.


© A Heart Full of Stories, 2015.



P.S. The lady remains in my care. And the mystery of whether she is giving or receiving or doing both is still driving me mad. (Again, no PG 21 SVNL tones whatsoever are intended by that statement)



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