What moves me is kindness. The small moments when someone goes a little out of their way to offer support and love to another sentient being. Today, as I was walking down a busy street, I saw a man, in need, sitting holding a cup and a sign asking for donations. I experienced a twinge of discomfort, uncertain about what I should do, whether I should offer something. And then I saw another man, a younger man, approach him, with a warm and welcoming smile. He was reaching out to drop an offering into the cup, yet it seemed to me, that the greater offering was his heartfelt connection with the other man, the acknowledgement and validation of his humanity. It happened in a flash as I walked by.
What else moves me? I am moved by the courage of the women who have been on the receiving end of sexual abuse and are now speaking out. They are pushing through the pain and shame barriers; valuing their integrity over the safety of social approbation. Not rocking the boat is not an option. They inspire me who might be more timid, more wary of stepping out of line, to examine my experience, my values, my courage. May these women inspire others to speak out, inspire others to acknowledge the deep pain that has been inflicted on all victims of abuse, and take steps to bring about lasting social change.
And I am moved – who cannot be? – by the power, the beauty, the magnificence of nature. By the sweeping vistas viewed from the mountains, by the roaring of ocean waves crashing against steep cliffs. And the more intimate focus of peering into a magnolia bloom and spy a single bee, busy among a pile of carpels, doing her bee thing.
Perfection abounds in the natural world.
I reflect what is common among these three different instances of thing that move me. All I can conclude is that they move me!