Acts of Kindness - Tara Taylor Quinn

I woke up in the middle of the night last night - second night in a row - completely filled with fear. I had specific things in mind (some white supremacist coming to blow my head off because my new MIRA release In Plain Sight has a heroine prosecutor who is attempting to bring down a white supremacist organization and I've been traveling all over - on TV twice in the past week - talking about my research and what I've learned) but mostly I was just consumed with fear itself. There's just something about the middle of the night that takes away rational thought and sets the mind demons free.

I don't know if any of you have noticed, but fear uses up a heck of a lot of energy. I need all mine, right now, thank you.

So, I started thinking, consciously, about other things. Forcing my mind to focus on other things. Things that were opposite of fear. Acts of kindness. And this morning, I feel like a completely different person. I'm completely surrounded by a bubble of awareness of the goodness in people - because I actually looked for it and found it there.

Last week, on the vacation a friend and I had been planning for months, I spent all but one day on tour for In Plain Sight. That meant visiting more than twenty bookstores and doing a TV appearance. My friend went with me to all of them. Spent her vacation supporting me, encouraging me. And sharing a glass of wine at the end of a gruelling day. A vacation day. This wasn't just a sacrifice of time. Her vacation companion was stressed and working the entire time they were supposed to be having fun. Not a laugh to be found on one or two of those days. But every morning she woke up cheerfully, supportive and optimistic.

This week, I've been touring in Arizona. This week my mother, who works for me supposedly part time but is more full time here than she was when she worked full time at her real job, has been mapping routes and stickering books, distributing coupons and walking until she was in pain to help me meet my obligations.

My husband, a classic workaholic, gave up an entire work day to drive me down to channel 12, sit in a green room that seconded as a break room because the station is under major HD renovation, smelling popcorn all morning and standing by while I was mic-ed and then while I did the show. He maintains a house while I speed all over living my life. He also reads all of my books. Two things he's said recently that were probably more kind than true, but that came to mind last night - "You look like a celebrity" as I was leaving for the television station. And "That book should be a movie," when he finished reading In Plain Sight. Pure kindness to someone who is fearing that her entire life's dream is down to resting on the vagaries of unknown readers who might or might not buy my book.

The two ladies at the McDonald's drive thru - the order and money taker at the first window and the food giver outer at the second - have had a smile for me early every morning I've been there, just because they recognize me from all of my recent visits I guess. (They have bagels - and a drive thru.)

And my fellow bloggers - I can't say as much as I'd like to because I don't have their permission - nor the time to seek it - but as I sat down here today, I was thinking about them, too. About all of the years I've known them, and things about them that stick out in my mind.

The Divine Sister Krissie - Anne Stuart - is funny and witty and bold - and has a huge heart. Several years ago I was sitting in a room filled with almost two-thousand people and heard her give a talk that I remember, with empowerment, still today. I won't say much, but I've never looked at a boa again without the reminder of who I am and what I can accomplish.

Maggie Shayne - for years she's spearheaded a gathering of sister writers for the soul purpose (misspelling intended) of reminding us all that we aren't alone. And that we're strong. There's no exclusivity here. Everyone welcome.

Suzanne Forrester - if you've never read one of her books, do so. She gives and gives and gives.

Lynn Kerstan - So much I could say - but then I'd get in trouble and the whole purpose of this exercise was to avoid fear! Here is a woman who listens to the soft voice inside - and then lives by its dictates. Her greatest kindess to me took place outside an elevator on some high floor of a hotel in some city. We were heading home after a gruelling business weekend and met in the hall on our way down to check out of our rooms. She gave me a simple reminder - a glipse of who she saw me to be. I remember her words almost daily. I liked who she saw and have been working to become that woman ever since.

Patricia Potter - This woman's existence is an act of kindness. I was traveling last week and in a bookstore in a small town in Ohio that I'd never even heard of (and I was born and raised in Ohio). A bookseller and I were talking and I mentioned the blog and the ladies here and when she heard Pat's name, she smiled, and asked me to remember her to Pat. She'd met her once. Several years ago. And she had a story to tell about that meeting. This wasn't a random incident. As a matter of fact, I was so used to the occurence that it didn't even strike me until I spent last night looking for kindness. Sometimes I'm tempted to walk around with a name badge around my neck that says Patricia Potter's friend. When people know that Pat likes you, they treat you kindly. I could be kidding. Exaggerating. But I'm not.

A woman slowed and let me merge on the freeway yesterday.

I thought of five specific strangers who, by ten-thirty yesterday morning, had smiled and said hello to me.

I didn't have to cook dinner last night.

My daughter just arranged an incredible research connection for me.

And my babies - the four legged creatures who just keep on keeping on - I've been gone more than I've been around and there they are, just as supportive and loving and happy to see me - treating me as though I'd been there for them every minute of every day. Henry J and Taylor Marie are here with me now - as they are every day I'm in my office - and if I move, they look. If I forget to, they come up to my chair and scratch to get my attention. When I come close they have kisses. If I forget, them come up to my chair and scratch to get my attention. If I bring them a treat, their entire bodies wiggle with appreciation and if I forget that dinnertime came and went, they come up to my chair and scratch to get my attention. They don't blame or judge or get hurt feelings. They love me enough, are kind enough, to come up to my chair and scratch for attention.

I love being alive and a part of the lives of the people I know - and have yet to meet. And I hope that today's awareness not only remains, but that it reminds me when dinnertime is here - so the people in my life, both four-legged and not, don't have to scratch.

If I knew how to do emoticons, I'd put a row of smiles here for all of you...