Kindness Begins With Me.

Let me be clear tonight: I have zero desire to write anything.

I am weeks behind on my next book, I should be practicing the piano, I should be exercising, I should be going to bed, I should be grading, I should be updating tomorrow’s lesson plans, and yes, I should be writing.

My mind is swimming and maybe if I write a little bit of nonsense, it will help me stay afloat. So I write to this prompt:

Is there anything you wish had been different about your childhood?

Answer: yes.

On a superficial level, I wish I had gotten the Millennium Falcon for my 6th birthday, instead of a Landspeeder.

On a less superficial level, I wish I had been kinder.

Such as being grateful for the Landspeeder (and Luke, Leia, Vader, Han and Chewie).

Such as encouraging my sisters to practice the piano, instead of hogging it, boxing them out.

I wish I had been kinder.

Such as cuddling with my parents a bit more often.

I wish I had been more grateful, more fun to be around, more forgiving. I wish I had relished naps and the lack of responsibility I enjoyed, instead of craving and chasing adulthood.

I wish I had been kinder.

I think about this wish for my childhood, this wish to have been kinder, and even as an adult, I can travel back in my memories to times I wish I had been kinder. This month, as I’m under a ridiculous amount of stress and carry worries of mine, my friends, and my family’s, it would be easy to not be kind. Some might even forgive me for not being kind, given the circumstances.

But if I wish I had been kinder in my childhood, I don’t want to look back on February 2016 and hold that same wish. For all its stress, I want to look back on February 2016 as a month in which I achieved what I thought would be impossible, as a month in which I built memories with my friends, as a month in which I chose to be kind.

I hope I can be kind.

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