preaching to myself

Generosity doesn’t come dressed like convenience. So stop calling after it like it will strut down the Catwalk of Ease.

The art of Going Out of Your Way is far less glamorous. It takes boots on the ground and all hands on deck. It's the in-between of the sliver of a nanosecond. The breath between rolling your eyes at her persistence and her, completely oblivious to the eye-roll, thanking you for all your help.

You see, it's denying the selfishness of a to-do list a mile long for the sake of another. It's winding the long hallways of the basement and standing outside of the shipping and receiving dock hoping someone will answer the door and point you in the right direction of a large box containing a new mom's glider and ottoman set, when all you really want to do is figure out how to create more time in a day. Daylight Savings, though, can go to hell.

How generous it is to be used as the unintentional vessel to bring "good news," as she called the nursery furniture's perfect timing, to someone. So why do you try to treat it as a chore when it causes the slightest of inconveniences?

You know there is far greater Good News than the chairs babies are rocked in. And because you know that, it's your duty to treat generosity like a "get to" and not a "have to."

Because at the end of the day it’s the beautiful time-gaining (not losing), winding nature of the road paved of largess. Frankly, it’s as simple as this: Get out of your own way so you can go out of your way.