Michiko's America

In the first Zoom Yoga lesson of 2021, the instructor told us to write down our resolutions on a piece of paper and carry it around for the rest of the year.  I came up with a resolution, but didn’t write it down.  Who’d forget your own resolution?  Well, I did.  I remember many of the thoughts that crossed my mind at that lesson, but couldn’t remember which I decided on as my resolution.

 When I mentioned it to my yoga teacher recently, she said, “Well, you have to write it down on a small piece of paper and put it in your wallet and take it out from time to time, and remind yourself of your own resolution.”  All of that seems like a lot of work.  That’s probably why I chose not to write it down last year.  Also, I rarely organize my wallet.  I keep everything that goes in my wallet until it’s about to explode.  So, I need to develop a new habit – organizing my wallet.

I’m already feeling discouraged and defeated, but this year I’ll definitely do as she recommends.  I want to remember what is important to me.

At my son’s last soccer game before the winter break, one of his teammates’ mothers stood next to me.  It was a cold and rainy day in mid-December.  Knowing that I’m a Japanese, she told me a story that I’d heard before.  She was in Tokyo about ten years ago, accompanying her husband on his business trip with two young sons.  One day she took a day trip to Kamakura where a gigantic sitting Buddha is.  Later she headed toward Yokohama for lunch, with the boys in a double stroller.  Then, it started to rain. She was also carrying bags with toys and care products to keep the boys happy, so it was hard to push the stroller.  Then, she noticed a man coming down the stairs of a nearby building and coming towards her.  She didn’t know what to think, then, the man said “Take it,” and gave her an umbrella.  “I don’t need it.  Use it.” 

She said to me, “It was a random kindness to a stranger.  Japanese are so nice.”  The words “random kindness” stuck in my mind.

The following week, I went out for some last-minute Christmas grocery shopping.  Turkey isn’t my favorite bird to roast, but my daughter was coming home from college, so I decided to roast a turkey for Christmas dinner.  When I finally came out of the store with a cart full of groceries, I saw an old man standing.  He needs help, I instinctively thought, but then, I had a second thought: his help may be coming soon, and it’s not always nice to assume that someone needs help.  So, I started to walk toward my car, but I couldn’t help looking back at him.  He was walking across the road in between the store doors and the parking lot, ever so slowly, one foot not even going in front of the other.  I was wrong to assume there would be a car picking him up from the curb.  I was relieved to see, though, that miraculously there were no cars coming towards him. 

I didn’t want to assume anything when I saw him, but I didn’t ask him if he needed any help.  But how could I have asked him without hurting his feelings? “Let’s cross the road together”?  “Can I walk with you”?  I only had a second to decide as other shoppers were coming out of the door right behind me, and I didn’t want to block their way.  I decided I’d figure it out at home.

The New Year has arrived.  But that didn’t do me any good, and I still struggle with the same question.  Maybe “Let’s wait until cars are gone.” And then “It’s safe to cross now.  Let’s go together.” 

I’m not good at this type of thing to begin with, but it’s gotten worse during the pandemic.  I kept drawing my circle of social life smaller and smaller.  It has given me a lot of comfort, as I know the people in my circle really well.  But I’ve sought comfort so much that now my life has no surprises.  I enjoy kindness among my family members and friends, but it’s not at all random.  I’m getting uncomfortable with too much comfort and I’ve become timid about dealing with strangers.

So, my resolution for 2022 is to exercise random kindness to strangers.  Just like the Japanese man did to my friend in Yokohama by making his intention clear.  He didn’t ask a question, “Do you need an umbrella?”  So, I won’t ask a stranger a question either, because it’s not easy for anyone to admit and say “I need help.”     

 And I will apply my old policy “assume nothing” to my remembering.  I’ll write “random kindness” on a piece of paper and carry it with me.  Hopefully I remember to look at it occasionally.  Maybe I should put a piece of paper on the fridge that says “look at the paper in your wallet” to jog my memory. 

It’s nice to live with intentions, especially with those intentions that I don’t expect any returns.  Hopefully, I can pay forward a bit this year.  By the way, I said “intentions” in the previous sentence.  Yes, I have another resolution, but I plan to keep that one secret, even from my wallet.  Hope I’ll remember it today in 2023.

Cheers!