Page 28 - July ONLINE VERSION_Neat

Soldiers of Kindness
By Lee Giffen
The battle for kindness can sometimes be more
difficult than carrying harsh words. To show people
strength through words is a different battle, I believe
some are better at this battle than others. Every day,
I try my hardest to be kind to others, no matter how
messy my mind is.
It is difficult to admit, but I used to carry harsh words
on my shoulders and the tip of my tongue. This is
something that is embarrassing, yet powerful. Embar-
rassing in the sense I have been mean to people who
didn’t deserve it, but powerful because I have grown
up so much, and realized how kindness impacts us as
humans.
I wish I could pinpoint a certain moment in my life
where I no longer chose to carry my harsh dagger. I
just grew up. It is a constant evolution. One day you
wake up and realize you aren’t even the same person
anymore.
While unfortunately I don’t have an epiphany, I had
moments of kindness that saved my life. And one of
these moments that I will never forget were words a
28 www.zoegracepublishing.com
silence afterwards.
stranger carried lightly on her back, and then hand-
ed to me. The chances of me ever seeing this woman
again are unbelievably small, yet I owe her my life.
I was living in pandemic New York City, riddled with
the burden of depression. The feeling of constantly
walking in slow motion whilst nothing feeling real
anymore. It felt like cement constantly being poured
on me, with the thoughts in my head screaming at
me. I’d have moments of sitting in my quiet apart-
ment, in my now quiet city--silent sobbing with my
hands around my neck, trying to choke the pain and
screams out of me. Just like how I used to carry harsh
words on my shoulders, my cemented mind was
something I felt hard to admit at the time.
I let myself spiral, and unravel so fast, the strings
of who I was felt permanently knotted. The cement
feeling was something that would visit quite often. Al-
ways coming and going, tangling my ties of who I am
on their way out. It was in the middle of fall; when the
weather was in between feeling of being enjoyable and
suffocating. I felt it was more like the latter. My spiral
had been paying its visit for three months now, at this
point. I couldn’t find scissors strong enough to cut my
ties and my hands were too weak to untie my knots.
I wanted silence to replace where my words held their
place in the universe, I wanted to be done with feeling
tied, I wanted the feeling of feeling anything at all--to
completely simmer. No one had ever explained that
sometimes you need to let other people untie your
knots, if you are not being able to do so yourself.
I held myself in a way that never gave away my secret
feeling. I walked with more confidence than someone
on a runway and smiled like a child holding candy.
I looked plastic, but was made of glass, the type that
could shatter by looking at it wrong. I couldn’t ask for
help, for my strings felt they had tied my lips shut.
This one day, I wanted to have the silence consume
me, and let my words cease. I had never felt more tied
than I did that day. However, I had to go to work. I
had to be plastic for a while, then I’d think about the
ZGP Magazine
I stood frozen and I felt normal for a second. Like the
cement had stopped pouring. The way that woman
At the end of the day I sat on the train, and wondered stopped to tell me that, and really meant it with her
about the people around me. whole being, cut one of my ties. It may be hard to be-
lieve that this small interaction in a bakery saved my
The music from my headphones made my ears numb, life, yet it did and I will always think of this day.
I listened to it at the loudest setting, yet heard noth- I felt genuine kindness and love from a complete
ing. I got off the train and was walking up the steps of stranger. That moment of clarity caused me to want
the subway to my part of the city. My eyes kept filling to get my normal back. I bought my food and left the
with saltwater pools, then stopped, over and over bakery I loved.
again. I was so unbelievably tired of my ties.
Back in my apartment, I sat in front of my food. The
I walked into a bakery, somewhere in the Upper flicker of happiness this stranger inflicted on me,
East Side. I loved this bakery, the food, the smell, the simply from being kind, caused me to want to work
workers, the tile on the floor, everything. The qui- on being happy again. I ate and decided the silence I
et hustle of it as you stared at options was the best desired so much wasn’t a good idea right now. I knew
part. The feeling of everyone existing together, all I had to find a way to cut my ties.
at the center of their own universe, but as one. As I
was standing in front of the warm food, my strings The next day, I went to the same bakery and told a girl
were choking me, yet I was trying so hard to focus on I loved her outfit. Her eyes smiled when I told her. I
what was in front of me. And the moment I had, after wondered if she had any ties that needed cutting.
thinking this, saved my life. I found that kindness had saved my life that day. Since
then, I make sure to say something kind to someone
A woman, who had a soft, yet business like aura, to cut whatever ties they could possibly have. This
paused next to me. I felt her staring at me, yet I didn’t comforts me, perhaps I was helping them just like the
look, for I had a habit of minding my business. The woman in my favorite bakery helped me. To be kind
stare continued for so long, I looked over. As soon as I is sometimes a tough battle, but it is a battle I will
did, she immediately said hello. I was taken aback, for gladly take on every day, for kindness is so powerful
she had no reason to be talking to me. I echoed her
hello and cocked my head, confused. She went on to
tell me I had the prettiest eyes. She gushed about the
eye makeup I loved to smear, and my eyebrows that
resembled marker. She told me I looked like art itself.
I thanked her, and she walked away.
Lee Giffen is a NYC/Honolulu
based artist, with a passion for
inspiring others through her words
and artwork. She believes art can
impact people’s lives in
indescribable ways.
Lee lives by the motto:
“Everyone is art in their own way.”
ZGP Magazine www.zoegracepublishing.com 29