21/03/2023
I do not make New Year’s Resolutions or pick a word to lean into for the upcoming year or even try a new workout out plan (or give up alcohol) each January. I’ve never successfully fasted or kept a journal either. This tells some of you *all* you need to know about me. 🤦🏻♀️
But this year I felt compelled to quietly commit to something simple. A year of acknowledging goodness where it exists. One act of acknowledgement a day- bare minimum.
This mostly means writing a whole bunch of thank you cards and emails to people when I feel a sense of gratitude towards them. It also means looking people in the eyes when they serve me (as a waitress, cashier, oil change, collecting my trash- whatever) and genuinely thanking them for doing a job that I cannot or would not do. It also means tracking down people I should have said thank you to ten years ago and telling them about the impact they have had on my life. And it means thanking people NOW and not adding their name to some nebulous to-do list that will never see the light of day.
I don’t want to spend another year of my life letting gratitude sit shyly, or without intention, on a to-do list inside my soul, unknown by those who have impacted me in big and small ways.
I wish I could say some sort of spiritual enlightenment was the impetus for this endeavor, but truly, it was inspired by a good packing job I got from a company over Christmas. I was so delighted by how perfectly my Arbonne package was packed that I just wanted to tell someone “oh my gosh- this was the best packed product box I’ve ever seen!!!!!!!” For two days it made me happy and I finally decided I ought to let them know. So I did. 🤷🏻♀️
I tracked down a random email address and wrote a completely gushy email about how the packaging and shipping was flawless. ❤️ And they responded that they would personally tell the men that packed my box. And that felt good. To tell them thank you.
And I thought ‘This is what I’d like to do more of this year. Quietly, genuinely say thank-you to as many people as I can.’ Preferably out loud or in ink- or sometimes here- in social media world.
So today I want to thank my daughter’s school principal, Nate Miley, at Crieve Hall Elementary School. Annie came down with a bad case of the flu today and when I went to drop off her doctor’s note, Mr. Miley overheard me telling the secretary that she was sick. He jumped up from his desk (which he is rarely at because he’s almost always in classrooms, in the halls talking to students or helping in the cafeteria) and told me to hold on. He grabbed an old book and began to write a letter in it to Annie. He told me he had just found it in the school library and asked me if I would give it to her.
And if this is not the stuff that amazing principals and educators are made of, I don’t know what is. Thank you Mr. Miley for loving our kids and fighting for them. For making our little neighborhood public school a safe place for every child and for knowing each one of them by name.
Annie is running 102 fever but she’s had that book in her arms all day. In ten years she may not remember how sick she is tonight but she will remember the magical story she is reading and the educator that cared enough about her to send it her way.
