Disillusionment? Find a spark.

Disillusionment.

To me, this is one of the hardest parts of being a grown up. This horrible week has been full of disillusionment. Our souls are crushed with questions like: What is this world coming to? Has the whole world gone mad? How could people be so evil? Why is everyone so angry?

The questions are endless.

There are also smaller scales of disillusionment which add up and take their toll over time. And the results can be significant.

So many questions and realizations can weigh on us. Many of us can find ourselves asking things like: How could a place of worship be filled with so much politics? How could that seemingly sweet mom have done something so cruel to another mother out of spite? Why are friends turning on each other because of political differences? How can that friendship that I once cherished now have become so one-sided and distant? Why are other mothers crucifying each other rather than sticking together?

On and on the weight gets heavier. Sometimes it makes us want to isolate and avoid. But this is one case where our natural instincts are wrong. Following our instincts is the worst thing we can do. Though we may not feel like it, this is the time when we need most to connect with people, no matter how small that connection might be. This is the time when those small acts of kindness mean even more. A smile to a stranger, a shared laugh, a phone call, an invitation to lunch, paying for someone's coffee in the Starbuck's line. These are the times when these small acts become big acts.They can become the sparks that ignite something bigger. Kindness begets kindness, which can become an epidemic. A kindness epidemic would be pretty awesome. Right now things seem pretty dark, but a lot of little sparks make a bright light.

This may seem ridiculous and insignificant, but I still reflect on an incident many years ago at a gas station. There was a man, much older than I, who was clearly taking a break from a tough blue collar job that required getting dirty. He was pumping gas and I pulled up to the gas station, dressed for a full day of reporting, my radio blasting. The song was Lady Marmalade. And people, I had it playing LOUD. My window was down, and I have no earthly idea why I did this, other than the fact that I tend to be a little nutty. But for some inexplicable reason, I leaned out my window and ordered this man to dance. There are no words I can use to express how he suddenly, unabashedly, without reservation, began cutting a rug and freely and furiously dancing like nothing I have ever seen. Nor can I express how much delight or laughter this brought me. Just a random, shared moment between two strangers.

Just a tiny spark.

But I still think about it often, and smile.

Twelve years later.