I believe everything happens in the perfect moment, even when it’s not so perfect. I work hard at being ‘present’ and living in the ‘now’; not much of what I do would be considered ‘random’. As a planner by nature and by trade, I make arrangements, create ‘to do’ lists, book calendar appointments, consult budgets, and organize travel plans. And while I often know what’s ahead, I embrace spontaneity, love to go with the flow and am open to change; I come from a place of trust. I set my intention daily and while the idea of ‘random acts of kindness’ is a lovely thought, it doesn’t make much sense to me, the ‘random’ part I mean.
The word ‘random’, is defined as “made, done, happening, or chosen without method or conscious decision, haphazard, accidental, or by chance.” Based on that definition, random acts of kindness would be done without much consideration, no real forethought, more like an afterthought, on a whim, by chance or happenstance, not planned or guided, blind by design. They would be done when we had more time, extra money, added patience, increased energy.
So my question is what if they weren’t so random? What if they were in fact planned, designed, Intended Acts of Kindness? What if we knew exactly what we were doing when we included them on our ‘to do’ list, in our plans; if they were something we did on an ongoing basis. What if we intentionally put money aside to give away, had a small envelope in our car, were prepared for the moment. We could be at the ready, ready to celebrate a great service, to honour a busker, buy someone a sandwich, provide a charitable gift. It could be part of an ordinary, not so extraordinary day, part of a master plan, rather than an add on when you can, and giving would be simple, routine, nothing special, nothing extra, requiring little or no effort. We could budget for it, give time and energy to it, we could provide for providing, with consideration, with intent, on purpose.
When grocery shopping, we could buy extra for the food bank or the teen on the corner. We could mow our lawn and intentionally cross the line, and mow the next lawn too. We could walk beside a friend who is walking alone, walk in someone else’s shoes, offer shoes so someone else can walk, or walk for someone who no longer can. We could buy coffee for the next person, buy flowers for an unknown person, give our spot in line to a tired person, give our gloves to a colder person. We could grow an extra garden row, double the recipe and feed someone else, leave our recyclables out for someone to turn in, leave a book on a bench, walk a dog for someone who can’t, offer our seat when someone else won’t, offer love when it’s all we have.
What if we all had a simple shift in focus, if it was no longer by accident, unintentional, unplanned or random? We could lean in another direction, concentrate on kindness, act on purpose, with intent, with arms wide open. We could put it on our calendar, in our budget, and on our ‘to do’ list. And it could be a consistent, ongoing, regular, and ordinary part of our day, our week, and our life.