How do I keep my heart open?

I woke up this morning—and the world hasn’t changed. Wars are still raging. A dear friend is dealing with depression. For a lot of people, the month is longer than the money

A few weeks ago I was at the station getting ready to board a train to go visit my daughter who lives in Chicago. The conductor saw me lugging a heavy-ish bag, smiled and said, “Can I help you with that?”

It warmed my heart. I held on to that glow.

I wasn’t sure exactly where to wait for my Uber (per the driver’s instructions) so I stopped two girls walking by and asked. They told me where to go with a smile on their faces and an eagerness to serve.

I held on to the feeling of gratitude that flowed through me.

As I exited the Uber, the driver stepped out and helped heft my bag out of the trunk and said a cheerful goodbye.

I tucked away that tiny spark of love.

I met my daughter at her workplace and together we walked to a nearby restaurant for dinner. She insisted on carrying my bag, ignoring my repeated declaration that I’m still a few months shy of my sixtieth birthday.

Side note: This is a typical Indian thing, the respectful offer of courtesy to the elder by the younger person, whether it is carrying their bag or holding doors open, or finding a seat on the bus. I did this for my parents and now my daughter is carrying on the tradition.

After dinner we were gathering our coats when the friendly waiter handed me a paper bag. Inside was a slice of pumpkin pie (turned out to be the best I’ve ever eaten). We hadn’t ordered dessert so this was a bonus.

I gathered that kindness and stored it in a corner of my heart.

The train home was already leaving the station so we had to scramble. A young man saw me trying to get down the stairs as fast as I could and held the doors open until I was safely inside. The next train was sometime away and it would’ve been a long wait on a chilly night.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I said to him.

“Of course. I’ve been there. I get it. I know what it’s like,” he replied.

I received the warmth of that moment with fullness.

As my head touched the pillow that night and I reflected upon my day, it occurred to me. The world hadn’t changed but my experience of the world that day was pure kindness.

Random strangers on my path had taken a moment (or a few) to step outside their bubble and offer me an act of kindness.

A question I’m often asked is: How do I keep my heart open when the suffering of the world is so hard to bear?

I get this dilemma. Like many of you reading this, I too, am an empath. We look at the magnitude of suffering around us and feel utterly powerless. But we’re not entirely powerless.

We can go:

I can’t do anything to cure the world of its ills.

OR

We can tend to our tiny plot of garden, the one we’ve been allotted.

What does showing up to care for our garden look like?

• stopping for a moment to say something kind to a checkout clerk
• practicing patience with an elder who’s holding up the line
• smiling at a stranger, especially one who’s wearing a frown
• calling a friend you haven’t connected with in a while
• writing a personal email to an author whose book you loved
• blessing the driver who cut into your lane

When each of us is the source of kindness our actions ripple out into the world and create more joy, love, and belonging.

Your dharma does not have to be a certain size for it to matter. The size of your dharma can be as small as giving up your seat, paying for someone’s coffee, or sending a card to someone you love. Just because.

It feels like nothing but, trust me, it’s everything.