What is the most important thing that you’ve done?

Someone just posted here on Facebook, “What is the most important thing that you’ve done?” I submit that none of us can ever know. We, all of us, touch the lives of others in ways that we will never understand, good and bad. There is a ripple effect for so many of our actions. The one thing that had the most impact, when all is said and done, might have been the kind word that was what someone needed to decide they are worth living. Most important for us? For the planet? Nothing can measure that.

I can’t even say what I am most proud of. My children? But I can’t take that credit. I’m very proud of “Cry of the Nightbird: Writers Against Domestic Violence.” But that was a group effort. I was one of three editors, who compiled works from some talented, painfully honest and brave men and women.

I can’t take ALL the credit for anything I have done. That would go to my friends, family and my loving Creator as much as to myself. We are all in this thing together. None of us is an island.

Rose-petal rain in the morning sun

Rose petals rain down in the morning sun

Does the mother bird know…
What a sweet-smelling home she builds in the tree?
Does the 12-foot rose tree know…
It is supposed to be a bush?

We have endured a week of rain for such a day

The bird is one of those pesky jays.
But now it is just an expectant mother.
She wove her bowl of twigs high
Among soft flowers, guarded by large thorns.

A train whistles, stirring memories, clearing its path

Did mama bird intentionally choose that side…
That stretches over the silky lambs’ ear?
Was she planning ahead,
Imagining her child’s first flight?

A dove’s plaintive coo is cut off by a crow’s caw

Mother Jay flies to the peak of a nearby roof
And surveys backyards, looking for threats,
For food sources near enough, but not too near
She flaps her wings, shaking off forebodings.

A warm wind brings a shower of pink petals

Mother Jay tilts her head, seems to look at me
Does she know we are one?
Two mothers surveying the surroundings
Giving thanks for the sun?

by Ann Hutchinson 5/2/2017

Being LOVE

“It’s not about being right. It’s about being love.” I wrote this August 2013 for my Godson on the occasion of his 18th birthday, and it’s stuck with me. I’ve also put it into a song I wrote with my husband, Kevin. It applies in so many situations. If we were more concerned about loving our fellow man/woman than about being right while they’re wrong or being good to their bad, many of the world’s problems would dissolve. We spend a lot of energy hating the haters. How does that help? Maybe they don’t know any better and haven’t been able to break away from the conditioning of their upbringing and environment. You may not be able to convince them that they are in the wrong. But love is contagious. Let us lead by example.