Here we are at the end of Day Two of this Yardimci kindness frenzy and I can quite safely say that today was good one.
If you didn't read yesterday's post, then let me fill you in. My hubby, who originates from the depths of one of the most anciently magical Turkish cities you could find, is Muslim. And that makes the next twenty-eight days pretty special for him. He is fasting. Not letting anything pass the lips between sun-up and sun-down and that includes malicious words, gossip or even the occasional football-related obscenity.
And to make sure our two terrifying lads at least get some sort of idea of what it's all about, we have created a kindness calendar for them to complete. Think Christmas advent calendar meets random acts of kindness and you get the picture. Each day we think of something lovely - however small - that we can do for somebody else and then record it on the calendar. In the glorious hyper-colour of Post-Its from Poundland (see? It doesn't take much to make this happen).
After yesterday's startling grand offering of post-swimming chocolate to two very confused looking pool attendants, today's was a beauty.
When I asked the Lads for ideas, they both suggested giving something nice to my mindfulness students. You see, of a Thursday evening, I can be found at Solstice Studio in Brixham, teaching a load of willing and undeniably gorgeous young folk, all about mindfulness meditation. It's my thang and I love it.
Big Lad is dipping in and out of this as he pleases, whilst Little Lad has been banished to a friend's house forevermore after his ogre-like behaviour at my first ever session. However, both Lads are acutely aware of what goes on and the fact that I am giving my attention to ten other young souls every Thursday instead of just them. So how lush is it that they both agreed to give those very same kids a little something to mark the month of Ramadan?
Big Lad steamed in with suggestions of chocolates or sweets. Nice. Very nice. But experiences from last year tell me that this whole Ramadan kindness malarkey can quickly get a bit heavy on the sugar side. "There's got to be another way we can treat them," I said, "can you think of something else we could give them?"
"Flowers!" Big Lad piped up. And so, it was done.
(After a manic sprint round Brixham looking for brightly coloured gerberas, only to find that florists quite clearly spend most of their day on lunch break, so finally settling for some slightly limper and probably chemically-primed blooms from Tesco)
Sadly, Big Lad didn't make it to the mindfulness class tonight as he was feeling a little burned-out from school and the inevitable pull of 'screen-time' at a friend's house. There are some things I just cannot contend with. But he did make me promise to tell everybody the flowers were from him, and that it was ALL his idea.
And how delightful it was, not only to explain to my mini mindful masters why I was giving them the flowers, and, in a nutshell, what Ramadan was all about, but actually, the very act of giving flowers to children was, well, sweet.
I suppose that usually flowers are reserved for special occasions, celebrations, illnesses, funerals, or apology-making - all very grown-up-type-things. And today I witnessed just how happy it seems to make a little one when you offer them a flower. And how that happiness expands when you all take in a deep mindful breath of the scent, and then make the petals shimmer and shake with a long, slow exhale. Magic? I believe so.
Now it's onwards people, to Day Three. And here's a little teaser . . . the Lads have already started working on it . . .
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