Dear Team,

Being kind just feels good.

 

I’ve spent the past year working off some serious Karma debt. I won’t lie, it wasn’t fun. Nobody ever believes in Karma until it slides up beside you and slaps you in the face. In my case – literally. I got Karma Face. Tragic, but true.

 

I was, for a long while, not a good person. I was never overtly cruel. I did not scheme. I wasn’t intentionally bad, but I had a serious disregard for anyone’s feelings possibly including my own. I blew threw my days leaving behind me a trail of broken hearts and shattered dreams (hyperbole, of course, but when I look back now, those moments are all opportunities wasted).

 

Lesson learned: You can only tip the scales of Karma for so long before all your karma debt attaches itself to you like a big, ugly albatross around your neck…and trust, that albatross isn’t going anywhere until you’re all paid up.

 

I spent ten months doing whatever I possibly could to improve other people’s lives. I gave countless rides, rolled up my sleeves, got down to business, opened my bank account, shared the roof over my head and even gave up my pride. While it pretty much sucked, I wouldn’t trade the experience for the world. 

 

Second lesson learned: If you aren’t sure if you are all paid up, you probably aren’t. I literally felt the universe shift back into place 

 

Now that my debt is paid off, I can’t help but keep up with the nice. I was selling some furniture on Kijiji and a lady came to look at it. Definitely new to Canada. Definitely smart. Definitely works mutha truckin’ hard for the money.  She had to reschedule coming over twice as not only does she have two jobs, she also cleans houses in her spare time. She was hoping to buy the furniture for her daughter and I could tell she was nervous about the price. As she told me about her daughter, I was thinking about how I got that furniture when I was a girl. I was so excited about how grown up it seemed.  I was getting this rich, dark, beautiful furniture while other girls my age still had princess sheets and bunk beds. 

 

I looked at her and told her if she could take it right then, it was hers. She burst into tears. I don’t know if it was the right thing to do or not. I won’t ever see her again, I won’t get a charitable tax receipt. I’ll probably have to spend less than I’d planned on a new headboard, etc now — I won’t even get the thirty croissants she promised me because she is a professional cook (damn you, wheat allergy!). What I will get is this feeling that I’ve had a significant impact on someone’s life. Something I hadn’t really understood before all of this.

 

I don’t think people normally do things unless on some level, there’s something in it for them. To be honest, it’s probably a wise way to go through life. Being a martyr is so last year. Having said that, being selfless every once and a while…is kinda cool. It is hard to top the warm and fuzzy. 

 

</Oprah lecture>

Eighty-eights,

Blue