Fiona writes: I have long auburn hair. I can feel it resting on my shoulders as I type.

This time next week, it will be gone. I am being ordained as a Buddhist priest in the Amida Order, and letting go of my hair is an optional part of the ceremony which feels important to me. I will be become a slightly different person, as you do when you get married. I will be taking vows. I will even get a new first name, which I’ll use when I’m with my sangha.

Shaving my head will signal this new identity to the world and to myself, and will also challenge me to let go of some of my self-conscious vanity. I want to ask myself, what is really important in this life of ours? How will I spend the time I have left?

My friend Caroline suggested that rather than throw my hair away, I should give it to a cancer charity so it can be made into a real-hair wig. Thank you, Caroline – I’m going to do just that – and give my hair to Little Princess Trust who offer real-hair wigs and support to children (boys and girls) with cancer or alopecia. and along with the hair I thought it would be nice to send some money to help them make a wig or two.

Here is my charity page, where you can offer a little money towards this charity and allow them to carry on doing good things. Please feel free to donate even a very small amount if that’s what you can afford – these little amounts will add up! And please do share this blog or my charity page with your friends.

Here is a bit of liturgy from our evening service, which feels relevant. Do replace the word ‘Dharma’ with ‘the truth that is important to you’. And underneath is a video from Little Princess Trust so you can hear a little more about where your money will be going. Thank you, lovely people.

Alas, people busily engaged in secular matters
Take no notice of life wearing away by day by day, night by night. 
Like a lamp in the wind – how long can it last?
In the six realms of vast Samsara, there is no fixed abode.

Until we are emancipated from the sea of affliction,
How can we rest in peace? Should we not be afraid?
While still young and strong, let us each hear the Dharma;
Let us strive and diligently seek the path to Eternity.

Photo: candles in the wind by Exiled Bacchus 

Fiona writes: Yesterday people all over the globe wrote about a favourite small kindness.

This one by Paula Swenson (about the death of her husband and the small acts of kindness that have got her through) was the first to make me cry, but it wasn’t the last.

Do explore these beautiful pieces for yourself, here. If you’re in need of a warm glow, you’ll definitely get one.

My book ‘Small Kindnesses‘ was also free for the day. In the UK 3352 people downloaded it, and in the US 19690. My character Leonard is now visiting all of those people (with his dog Pickles). Almost impossible to imagine. What a privilege.

I’m making my previous best-selling novel ‘The Most Beautiful Thing‘ half-price today, as a post-Blogsplash gift. If you like what you’re reading in ‘Small Kindnesses’, get yourself an early Christmas present today whilst it’s cheaper.

And if you did get my book for free and if you enjoy it, if you’d like to say ‘thank you’ do post a short review on Amazon – it does make a big difference to the success of the book. Or recommend it to your friends! Thank you.

And thank you to all the wonderful Blogsplashers who wrote with such care and attention and love.

Here’s to kindness. *chink*

Our Blogsplash is TODAY! Read all the different pieces about small kindnesses and add your own blog to our list here. 

Kindness is a Very Good Thing. Even teensy compassionate acts help the world go round. Let’s celebrate these Small Kindnesses.

Today I’m re-releasing my book ’Small Kindnesses‘ - a gentle mystery story with gardener Leonard, dog Pickles & a dash of Johnny Cash. It will be free on kindle until the whole of the day (and is available now on Kindle UK or Kindle US).

To celebrate we’re organising a Small Kindnesses Blogsplash. To join in, simply write about a time when you received a small kindness and publish it on your blog (or on Facebook, or email your friends) and call your blog ‘Small Kindnesses’. You can also point people towards my free book.

Your small kindness might be an extra-thoughtful Christmas present you’ve never  forgotten, or the unexpected thoughtfulness of a stranger, or a small gesture that rescued you from a dark place. It might have happened this week or twenty years ago.

It might be a simple list of the small kindnesses you’ve received this week, or today. It might be a small kindness you’ve been inspired to perform. Follow your inspiration…

I’ve written about my own favourite small kindness in our newsletter, here. Kaspa has written about his here.

There’s a Facebook event here if you’d like a way of easily inviting your friends, and you could tweet this:

Blogsplash: Join us today and write about your own favourite #smallkindness. More information here: http://bit.ly/TGjbbc

If you’d like a reminder, do sign up to our fortnightly newsletter on the right if you haven’t already.

I can’t wait to read about your small kindnesses!

Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does.
~ William James

Fiona writes: If I could, I would offer you a dish of chocolates just like this one.

What James says above is true. We forget easily, because if we remembered all the time it would drive us a bit loopy. Being kind is a good way to act.

Being kind isn’t straightforward. I could offer you all a plate of chocolates like this one, but I would prefer to keep some of my money to pay my mortgage and buy nice dresses. Sometimes we don’t feel like being kind. Sometimes we don’t know what the most kind thing to do is.

But small kindnesses do make a difference. You can read about a small kindness I received a long time ago here, and why I still remember it. You can read about Kaspa’s small kindness tomorrow if you sign up to our fortnightly newsletter.

And tomorrow, you will be able to read about people’s favourite small kindnesses all over the world. Here they are. They are taking part in our Small Kindnesses Blogsplash, and it’s not too late to join them. Email me your blog address and I’ll add you to the list. There’s still time to invite your friends too.

Today and tomorrow, my novel ‘Small Kindnesses‘ will be free on kindle (Amazon UK, Amazon US etc). You can read it on your PC or your phone if you don’t have a kindle. A little offering from me to you. Not just from the kindness of my heart. But still. I hope that you like it. Not as good as chocolates. But I hope that my character Leonard helps to warm your heart a little.

I can’t wait to read about your small kindnesses. I can feel the glow already… Look after yourselves and do drop by tomorrow x

*

Chocolates by minato

Fiona writes: This morning I went to the supermarket and found myself in the shampoo aisle.

For some time now I’ve been buying a cheap variety of shampoo. I buy this shampoo because I am ‘the kind of person who isn’t taken in by expensive gimmicks’. I also like the raspberry & apple scents.

Recently I’ve been thinking, ‘I don’t want to be the kind of person who buys cheap shampoo. I want to be the kind of person who invests in herself and spends proper money on good quality beauty products.’

As I browsed the rows upon rows of shampoo, thoughts flickered through my head.

‘Here is the very expensive ethical shampoo. I ought to buy that, as I’m an ethical person. But it is outrageously expensive and I bet they’re relying on cheating people who see themselves as ethical to keep them going. I resent being exploited in that way. Here is the dandruff shampoo. I definitely don’t want to be the kind of person who needs that. Here is the expensive shampoo. But there are four different varieties. And they are all so popular, I don’t want to buy the same shampoo as everyone else and be so conformist….’

This internal dialogue went on for quite some time. Eventually I picked up the cheap shampoo I always buy, one apple and one raspberry.

In most of the purchases we make, we are deciding what kind of person we want to be. We are deciding how we would like to be seen by others, and seen by ourselves. We also do this with the friends we choose, the art we hang in our homes, the clothes we wear. Today I am a ‘baggy stripey jumper with harem trousers’ kind of person.

According to Buddhist wisdom, it is not a good idea to get caught up in these ‘self-creating’ samskaras. For one thing it leaves us stuck in the shampoo aisle for much longer than is necessary. It also causes us all kinds of other trouble. We might be a posh-shampoo-person who runs out of money. We might be a cheap shampoo person who refuses to acknowledge their desire for expensive face cream. All of these ‘this-is-the-kind-of-person-I-am’ thoughts freeze us into a strict identity, which then needs to be defended. This defending can take a lot of energy.

We experience more of the world if we can begin to loosen these tight ideas about who we are, and allow the possibility that we are more multifarious than we could possibly imagine.

Later, in a different part of the supermarket, I spotted a half-price expensive shampoo. I put it in my trolley. Not quite ‘a person who buys expensive shampoo’, more ‘someone who buys half-price expensive shampoo’. But it’s a start. After this experimentation in identity, I went to a-popular-fast-food-chain and had a veggie breakfast muffin. I’m not the kind of person who goes to popular-fast-food-chains. It’s not ethical, and it’s not cool. But you know what? It tasted GOOD.

*

Experiment with your identity by becoming the kind of person who invests in their creative work and does some 1:1 work with me or Kaspa – check out our Creative Boosts. Or do something else that stretches you… let us know what it is in the comments!

Photo: shampoo by moophisto

Fiona writes: Yesterday, the last thing I wanted to do was be kind to anyone.

I’d had a wonderful weekend of training Zen Therapy in London, but combined with a busy week and another trip to London the Sunday before, I was cream crackered.

My neck made sure I didn’t carry on regardless (which is sometimes I am prone to do) by clenching into a large and extremely painful lump and giving me a headache.

I’ve been pondering about the nature of kindness in preparation for our Small Kindnesses Blogsplash next Tuesday (are you going to join us?).

Being kind requires that we make an offering of something without any expectation of return. It might be some of our time, or some emotional energy, or a material possession. One of the most precious offerings we can make to a person is our attention.

When our reserves are low, as mine were yesterday, it’s much more difficult to be kind.

Another way of looking at this is, if our reserves are low, it is extra important that we are kind. How so?

In my experience, when I am feeling low, it helps me to tune in to something ‘other’. Yesterday these ‘othernesses’ included listening to Kaspa talk about his day, gazing out into the garden, and watching my cat Roshi as he slept. I also listened to the Gayatri mantra on a loop. Alternatives might have been doing something low-key and creative like making biscuits, or going on a walk, or reading some of Mary Oliver’s poems.

As I tuned in to these others – Kaspa, the cats, the garden – I become interested in them. I started to appreciate the beauty of the last yellow scraps of leaves clinging to the apple tree. I felt warm towards Roshi who was stretching a long languorous paw out across the sofa as he got comfy. The continuous soothing voices of the Gayatri mantra reminded me that I wasn’t alone on this little planet of ours, that there was something much bigger than little me and the little crunches in my neck.

As these feelings soaked through me, a natural urge to be kind arose in me. To attend to the other. I watered our plants, and gave Roshi a stroke. I listened properly to Kaspa. Not much. But small kindnesses. Some days (most days) small kindnesses are all we can manage. And they are enough.

(A happy side effect of being kind is that when we do make offerings to others, without any expectation of return, we feel pretty damn good too.)

This ‘tuning into otherness’ is in contrast to ‘finding anaesthetics’, which we all do all the time and which is perfectly human. My anaesthetising yesterday included watching too much television, getting caught up on the internet and eating too much strudel. These activities felt more like avoidance than nourishing myself.

And talking of nourishing ourselves, this ‘tuning into otherness’ business doesn’t mean that we should neglect our own needs. We need to look after ourselves or we won’t keep going. I nourished myself yesterday when I had a long bath, and sat and looked at the garden, and fell asleep on the sofa, and felt sadness rise for no reason I could put my finger on and had a cry.

Just before I started writing this post, this landed in my inbox from Daily Dharma:

Gratitude, the simple and profound feeling of being thankful, is the foundation of all generosity. I am generous when I believe that right now, right here, in this form and this place, I am myself being given what I need. Generosity requires that we relinquish something, and this is impossible if we are not glad for what we have. ~ Sallie Jiko Tisdale

‘Tuning into otherness’ helps me to re-find this gratitude, to re-find the ground underneath me that Jiko Tisdale is speaking of here. To remember how bountiful the world is, really, and how much we receive in every moment – even the oxygen that is keeping us alive, breath by breath.

It is okay to not want to be kind. We are human beings. But next time this happens to you, tune in to what is around you. To what is already supporting you. Write a small stone or three. See what happens next.

*

‘If we all do one random act of kindness’ by brandonheath.

Buy now from Kindle UK or Kindle US or paperback from the UK or US.

“…utterly delightful.” “…like slipping into a warm bath…” “…A truly lovely book, gently incisive, witty and engaging…”

Leonard Mutch has just discovered his wife was lying to him for years – but can he bear to uncover the truth?

Leonard and Rose Mutch were happily married for forty years. But after her sudden death, Leonard is shocked to find a train ticket in her handbag to a town Rose had never visited. Then a letter arrives from a childhood friend of Rose’s, hinting at a past she never told him about.

Reluctantly embarking on an investigation into the life of the woman he thought he knew as well as himself, Leonard is faced with questions that threaten to destroy his happy memories. Why did Rose secretly leave work every Tuesday? Why did she tell lies about her family? And why is their daughter so desperate for him to stop digging into the past?

As his whole life threatens to unravel, Leonard must make an impossible choice – between his memories and a truth he could never have imagined…

From the bestselling author of The Most Beautiful Thing, Small Kindnesses is a gripping and ultimately life-affirming novel that explores the power of secrets and the healing qualities of love.

Previously published as ‘The Blue Handbag’.

Reviews for Small Kindnesses

“A truly lovely book, gently incisive, witty and engaging.

Small Kindnesses by Fiona Robyn is utterly delightful. Leonard, a widower, finds a railway ticket in an old handbag belonging to his late wife Rose. The ticket to Didcot, together with a letter from an old school friend of Rose, set Leonard off on a trail of discovery. A closely observed portrait of an extended family, as well as a study in grief and identity, Small Kindnesses is vibrant and real. Leonard is lightly flawed and very likable as he deals with crisis after crisis without Rose’s help and advice. Robyn highlights the double whammy that is every widow and widower’s main tragedy: the dealing with grief and trauma without the help of the lost spouse. It is, as you would expect, touching, but it is far from soppy and makes you smile time after time.” ~ C L Hawley

“Reading Small Kindnesses was like slipping into a warm bath. It’s a profoundly gentle read, and is none the worse for that. Robyn eases us through the lives of her characters (in particular, the grieving Leonard) with a great eye for detail and telling characterisation. The central mystery (that Leonard’s beloved wife appears to have had another, secret, life before she died) is only part of the story. The true emotional thrust of the book lies in the way that all the characters’ lives are riddled with faultlines, which are ripped open with the smallest of disturbances. I found Robyn’s gentle, humane voice to be utterly engaging, and also profoundly relaxing. Would recommend.” ~ Stripeyreader via Amazon

“I thoroughly enjoyed meeting all the characters in Small Kindnesses – I couldn’t put it down, I was so completely engaged in Leonard’s search. Having discovered the plot, I am tempted to re-read this book to savour the observation and characterisation. I loved that Leonard, a gardener, needed to allow any new ideas to germinate and grow before dealing with the next phase. I chuckled at the humour of Pickles moments, Leonard’s occasional flights of fancy, and the author’s wry and witty turn of phrase, but life’s less amusing realities underpin this layered and interesting book.” ~ R. E. Carver

Praise for my previous novels: 

“Robyn is the real thing. A gifted writer who understands the complexities of the human soul.” Jacqui Lofthouse

“Fiona Robyn is a thoughtful and moving writer, who has a great sense of human emotion.” Michael Kimball

“Wise, true and moving. Thaw poses important questions about how and why we live.” Esther Morgan