In speaking about chemo, someone reminded me of this poem, which I love and adore. What a guide this is!
Again, I am reminded of the words of the Dalai Lama which I keep posted by my computer.
"My religion is kindness."
KINDNESS
by Naomi Shihab Nye
Before
you know what kindness really is
you must
lose things,
feel the
future dissolve in a moment
like
salt in a weakened broth.
What you
held in your hand,
what you
counted and carefully saved,
all this
must go so you know
how
desolate the landscape can be
between
the regions of kindness.
How you
ride and ride
thinking
the bus will never stop,
the
passengers eating maize and chicken
will
stare out the window forever.
Before
you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must
travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies
dead by the side of the road.
You must
see how this could be you,
how he
too was someone
who
journeyed through the night with plans
and the
simple breath that kept him alive.
Before
you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
You must
know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must
wake up with sorrow.
You must
speak to it till your voice
catches
the thread of all sorrows
and you
see the size of the cloth.
Then it
is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only
kindness that ties your shoes
and
sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only
kindness that raises its head
from the
crowd of the world to say
It is I
you have been looking for,
and then
goes with you everywhere
like a
shadow or a friend.
