“Because even the smallest of words can be the ones to hurt you, or save you.” 
? Natsuki Takaya

There is a saying many of us were probably told when we were young either by a parent or a teacher: “Sticks and stone may break my bones but words will never hurt me.” At some point we quickly realize that, while the intention may have been admirable, the words were simply untrue. Words have the power to hurt or heal, manipulate or move, comfort or confound, soothe or scar. How we use words is so on my mind these days as our lives seem to be flooded by a near constant barrage of cavalier statements by world leaders, politicians, and others that take to the bully pulpit that social media has become. 

Recently I began to make some mental connections about all this word play while doing my gig as a volunteer at the airport. I wrote about this new pastime a couple of weeks ago. During my time there the words I say most often are: “Can I help?” This question is posed to someone standing, staring at a screen on the wall or in their hand. They look everything from confused to exhausted to frightened. When I say those three words…”Can I help?”, I have most often seen their faces relax, their shoulders drop from their ears and they give themselves over for at least a moment to receiving someone’s guidance, someone offering a quick bit of help that will move them along in their day. For me, as the one who asks the question, it becomes a quick interchange of humanity that lightens my own heart and fills me with a sense that, at least in this instance, I can do something to help a fellow Earth traveler. Of course, this kind of help does not come close to being help they may need in other parts of their lives. But for now it is a pretty good thing.

This led me to thinking about the other ways in which certain words, certain phrases, have the power to make an impact. “Welcome.” is a good place to start. Doors are flung open wide when someone offers this greeting. Who knows what could happen?  “I’m sorry.” is another that can make all the difference in the world. And then there is “I forgive you.” How many people are waiting to hear just those three little words? And, of course, there is the pinnacle of three words…”I love you.” Something we all long to hear. Over and over again.

All these words, though small and ordinary, carry the gift to shift situations, circumstances, lives. And when those words are prefaced by someone saying our name, allowing it to form and come to life on another’s tongue, that is the proverbial cherry on the sundae. Saying our name says:”I see you. I care about you. I want to connect with you.” Hearing our name spoken in a caring, compassionate voice is like honey dripping from the mouth of the Holy.

One last phrase. My dear, beloved husband who left this Earth too soon always said that all people really want to hear is:”Everything’s going to be okay.” This is what he believed children, teenagers, adults want to be told again and again. In sermons. In speeches. In classrooms. Across kitchen tables. “Everything is going to be okay.” While it may not be what we want or what we hoped for, in the big scheme of Everything, it will be some kind of okay. For those in situations around this whirling planet who are living under unimaginable terror and pain, perhaps it is up to the rest of us to work and pray and vote to make this statement come to life. The Sun and Moon will rise. The seasons will move from one to the other. Someplace in all that there is an ‘okay’ living for us to hold onto.

Over the next months there will be many moments when it may seem as if the fraying will threaten to undo us. Perhaps then is the time when we each can say to at least one other person: “Can I help?” “Welcome.” “I’m sorry.” “I forgive you.” “I see you.” “I care about you.” “I love you.” 

“Everything’s going to be okay.”

“The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” 
? Lao Tzu

There is a bit of the wanderlust in me. Traveling is something I seek, something I crave. It doesn’t have to be to far off places necessarily, though that is wonderful, but can be a short trip just hours away from my home. Someplace I’ve been before or someplace yet to be discovered. I know people who are contented to be in one place and who never desire to venture far from their home. In some ways I have envy for that way of being. Others still have a myriad of reasons that traveling is impossible even if their hearts are pulled toward other places. But I’m always up for a trip…to any place.

This deep nudge toward travel has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. And I have been blessed to be able to scratch that itch when it happens. I love what being able to travel has brought to my life. The chance to see how others live, how they have created beauty, what they value, the food they love, how they gather, how they worship, what infuses joy in their lives…all these have enriched my own way of seeing and being in the world. I come back from nearly every experience changed in some way. As the author Henry Miller wrote:” One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.”  And that gift of seeing with new eyes is one I am so grateful for. 

A few months ago I did training to be a volunteer at the Minneapolis/St. Paul Airport. I have always loved airports and the opportunity to spend time in this beautiful one has opened my eyes to new glimpses of the vast world that spins around me. My work is to simply be present and to help people make their way from one place to another. I answer questions, try to calm anxieties, point people toward their next flight or the car or train they need to catch. In those encounters I sometimes get to hear some of their story and then silently bless them on their way. And in some way I get to travel vicariously through them. I leave the airport at the end of my shift full of their excitement and energized with this chance to walk alongside a stranger for a short leg of their journey 

Increasingly it seems to me, the need for encountering other humans whose lives may be different than ours is in short supply. Mostly we tend to surround ourselves with those who look like us, think like us, pray like us, vote like us. At the airport all this melting pot of people gets stirred together in the lines and the gates and the baggage and the anticipation of people’s ‘what next’. “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts.” writes Mark Twain. I have found the wisdom of this American sage to be true both in my own travels and in witnessing to the travels of others. What most often rises up is kindness and a genuine hope that we are all traveling together in some way. 

Every time I go to volunteer I am reminded of the opening scene in the movie Love Actually. Do you remember it? The voice of actor Hugh Grant is heard over scenes at Heathrow Airport of people reuniting and greeting one another as they arrive from their flights. His words point out that when the Twin Towers fell the words shared by people calling family and friends were ones of love and not hate. In the film the individual scenes at the arrivals gate is multiplied over and over until there is a full screen of people expressing delight and welcome, love and joy. 

I get to see this nearly every time I volunteer. Of course there are sometimes frenzied, crabby, even exhausted people every now and then. But they are not the norm. Most people have faces reflecting anticipation of what lies before them…a vacation, an interview, a life change, a new grandchild, an adventure, a loved one, a surprise. Or at least that is how I see it. I hope  my face reflects back to each person that it has been a privilege to have my life brush against theirs for this one moment in time. I hope our encounter makes their journey just a little bit gentler. I’d like to think that they will arrive at their destination knowing that someone noticed them and felt gratitude for what we shared.

In case you have forgotten…or never saw that scene here it is…