I write about kindness. It started because of my travels.
When I was 25 I took to the road for the better part of 10 years.
I went to Asia, Europe, Mexico, Canada, Central America, Africa, Europe, Russia and the Middle East.
Then I came home, pretty much for good.
As time passed and memories faded, I found that what I remembered most about the places I’d been was not the cathedrals or the ruins, the tombs or even the wonders of nature. What I remembered was the kindness of Earth’s people. Because wherever I went in this world, from the deserts of the Middle East to the beaches of Mexico, complete strangers made it a point to go out of their way to help me.
It wasn’t everyone. It didn’t happen every time. But enough people in enough places reached out in kindness and good cheer that it was their stories that became imprinted on my soul.
As I got older and watched the world devolve ever further into a place of “me’s,” not “we’s,” I felt called to tell these people’s stories. For me, it was a way to give back, a way to do my small part to say to anyone who would listen, “We’re good. We try. We reach out. We strive to make a difference.” Not all of us. Not every time.
But, I believe, there are enough of us who are willing to reach out enough of the time to change the very nature of the world, making this planet we all call home a more welcoming and gentle place.
And so I started to tell these stories in a weekly column for PeterGreenberg.com that I named “Grateful Traveler.” What startled me (although it shouldn’t have) is that over the next year, it seemed that wherever I went—adoption reunions, playgrounds, school picnics, dinner parties, check-out lines in stores—people had stories of goodness to share.
Some were joyful. Some were sad. But all were deeply moving.
I felt as if everyone I met wanted to let me in on the most powerful secret on the planet—most of us are good. Most of us are kind. Most of us will extend a hand in friendship and good will. Borders don’t matter. Religion doesn’t matter. Age doesn’t matter. Gender doesn’t matter. We are one people and something in our DNA knows this and, I believe, recognizes it as the key to our survival. Perhaps that’s why the more I wrote, the more I received emails from all over the world saying, “I believe in goodness too.”
Interestingly, many of the people who wrote to me had never traveled, yet the stories touched them and helped them to feel a greater sense of community and attachment to others. As banks collapsed, governments fell, people got laid off and shelter lines grew, I wondered if, just maybe, these stories had something to teach us about a way to find meaning in a chaotic world.
Were there, embedded in these stories, simple codes we could live by that would help us weather the coming storms? Did the people I have written about have something to teach us about living lives of strength and beauty even in the midst of sacrifice and pain?
I think so. That’s why, for the next few weeks I’ll be taking a look at the people I’ve come to think of as “travelers.”
By my definition, a “traveler” is a person who faces adversity with strength, who sees the glass as not just half full but overflowing, who comes at life with arms wide open. They understand that safety is an illusion and the only response that makes sense in times good or bad is to get out there and drink in life as if it’s an elixir.
If their motto is “I’ve got options,” then their mindset is, “I can’t wait to see what comes next.”
Next week I’ll be asking many of them just that question. What does come next in a world where the ground is constantly shifting? How does one make one’s way?
By Jamie Simons for PeterGreenberg.com.
What’s your definition of a traveler? Leave your comment below …
Read more inspiring stories from the Grateful Traveler series:
