Yvonne Hess, Walking the Walk, 02/21/12

A few years ago, my husband shared a short story in our family Bible study.

He talked about an older woman he’d met who was struggling with her finances and couldn’t pay to have her car fixed. She had to make a choice between her rent and her transportation to work.

He used it as a teaching moment for our kids by explaining that many people are so strapped that they often had to make very difficult choices. He spoke about how we should all find ways of helping others, that we should have “kind eyes toward the world.”

Our son, John, quizzed his dad incessantly about the old woman, shadowing him after our Bible study, wanting details about her situation. My husband said we were going help the woman pay for the car repair and he was happy that John was concerned about her.

The next day, John came to his dad and handed over all of his earnings from chores. He’d been saving up for some toy he couldn’t live without, begging me for days on end to give him jobs to fund his fabulous new obsession. He proudly told his dad he had $25 to pay for the old woman’s car and turned on his heel to go torment his sister for a while.

I was surprised at how much the woman’s predicament affected him. I was touched that he could freely and easily drop his priority and elevate hers.

This was such a “kind eyes toward the world” moment that it really struck me. John’s act was one of pure giving. There was no guile, no conflict, no inner turmoil. He gave everything only because it was needed by someone — someone he would never meet.

I try to keep this memory in my mind to prompt me into action when I see someone in need.

I have to admit, I occasionally have pains of inner turmoil about demoting a priority of mine. It’s so hard to walk away from one of my fabulous little obsessions. A selfish stew of fatigue and frustration can easily slosh over to blind my “kind eyes toward the world.”

 In a heartbeat, I can get miserly with my money, my time, and my emotions. I have to give myself a quick emotional slap, because I can’t even tolerate myself when I’m like that.

Living in recovery means a life free of self-deception and falsehood.

Recovery also means we are constantly challenged to investigate selfish thoughts and actions. In times of inner turmoil I immediately know that I’m in an emotional tantrum. My recovery tells me to challenge myself and pry open my eyes to see with clarity what my selfish nature wants me to miss — the needs of another.

I then see the memory of my son’s guileless act of kindness. A razor-sharp flash of clarity puts me back in reality. From a balanced mindful place I can then reach out to meet the need freely and easily.

I’m a work in progress. It’s taken a lot of practice for me to get beyond myself and see the reality of another person — especially when I’m not at my best. But I’ve seen the results of my choices to reach out. There have been numerous positives for both the lives I’ve touched and to myself.

When I have “kind eyes toward the world,” I find the world has kind eyes reflected back toward me.

Yvonne Hess is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist (LMFT) and a Certified Addictions Professional (CAP) with an International Certification as an Alcohol and Drug Counselor (ICADC) who works for the Citrus County Health Department’s Phoenix Program. She can be reached at 352-527-0068, ext. 251, or yvonne_hess@doh.state.fl.us.