This One Tiny Thing

I write this as the end of the year approaches. I am occupied with to-do lists. Things to clean, to buy, to cook. Relatives are pouring in soon from all corners of the world as the world's spiritual holidays collide. Our house will be soon putting up our tree, stringing lights and planning to make yet another Red Velvet cake because my mother is with us and she is Queen of said cake. We will devour it completely until absolutely, positively - gone. Not a crumb in sight.

It's also the time of year when like many people, I tick off the days until New Year's and begin to think of that signification word, resolution. There are sites that list the most popular top ten or twelve resolutions that people have. It appears when most things are said and done, most of us are so very, much the same. We long to be better people, to be kinder to our families and spend more time with them - real time. We want to learn things, see things, and travel places. We want to exercise more, stress less, and yes, get out of debt. We want to pick up trash, go to the beach, climb a mountain, and make new friends. To offer more hope and smiles. To breathe. And on many of those lists, to love unconditionally and to judge less. These strangers writing down all of their resolutions could very well be my sister, my neighbor, my spouse. They could be me.

The purpose of this Psychology Today blog is not for promoting our personal professions, our books, and our general marketing platform. It's for sharing ideas about the things that are important to us that the editors feel other people will find interesting, challenging, enlightening or inspiring. To that end let me disclose this fact - I wrote a book about a resolution that I made. That book is a collection of the people and their stories that I collected along the journey of that year. This post is not to sell more of those books. It's about the resolution itself. About what started it all. Let's just say I had a moment near the end of 2008 that did indeed inspire me to consider one New Year's resolution - to silently say a prayer for a different stranger I encountered every day of the year. Actually, close to midnight on December 31, 2008, I began that resolution. This is December 2011, three years later and I'm moving again towards the end of one year, the beginning of another.

And still - today, I will pray for a stranger. Tomorrow, I will pray for a stranger. In the coming year, I will pray for a multitude.

On New Year's Day I will be standing in front of a group of strangers talking about what the year will hold for them and the world. This is what I will tell them. This is what I believe. The New Year holds possibilities, potential, purpose. That they should never underestimate how much their caring for a moment for one stranger could make a difference in this world. A wonderful newsflash on this one - if you break this resolution like so many of us have broken so many others before, so be it. The world would still be a better place for you considering even one stranger with more patience and compassion in the coming year. You cannot fail at this. You cannot lose. Not this time.

Praying for strangers is not so difficult. It's not wrapped up in some mystical sequence of a events or a mystery so tangled you will never unravel its meaning. It simply looks like love spreading out to strangers on any given day. On every given, busy, crushed for time, stressfull day. It's just a slice in time, as long as it takes to spot a friend in a crowded restaurant, a busy sidewalk, a bus stop, and offer a moment of compassionate consideration for their life, for their health, their happiness, their private little world that has somehow for just a moment intersected with your life. One silent moment of compassion so deep this person becomes your sister, your brother.

In the great picture of things and the fullness of storytelling, I went on to tell my strangers quickly three or four times a week that that they had stood out to me in a special way and that I would be remembering them in my prayers that night before I closed my eyes. Over and over again strangers have thanked me or shared their stories. Most of those stories begin with, "Funny you choose me today because . . ." or "You have no idea how much I needed to hear that today because . . . " They never think I'm going to accost them with prayer because I'm not. They don't think I am trying to convert them, change them, or judge them. Because this kind of prayer isn't about any of that. My apologies to friends and readers who may think I miss the mark here on this - but trust me. I know what's in my heart. I know my calling. Compassion, caring, connection. These are the words that carry the day. So once again, as one year draws to a close, as the dawn of 2012 approaches and new days are born full of promise and clean slates, I'll step forward to silently say a prayer, to sometimes make a public connection, to smile more, judge less, - and to love unconditionally.

As you consider the year ahead, as you contemplate all of history and your place in it, as you consider your potential resolutions, I invite you to consider the strangers you pass each day. The people who stand out to you on Facebook, on Twitter, in newspapers, on radio programs, on the evening news, guesting on Jay Leno or other entertainment shows. I invite you to pause, to consider them, and perhaps say a silent prayer. Because this one, tiny thing we have the power to do, could ultimately change and heal our souls.

Wishing you Peace in this beautiful season and a New Year full of light.