“It’s the small, everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep the darkness at bay…small acts of kindness and love”, says Gandalf in Tolkien’s The Hobbit.
Whatever our privileges, our lacks and losses, our talents and our flaws, we all experience darkness in our lives sometimes. This summer, as I look at other people’s social media feeds, it can be tempting to succumb to the belief that their days have been bathed in a constant summer light. It can be tempting to find our summer, by comparison, sadly lacking, aware as I am of the shadows that have passed through our family daily over the past few months.
Of course, that is all wrong. I am wrong to think that. We all have the beautiful, bright moments, and for many of us, sharing those happy, sunshiney images is our way of holding onto the memories and celebrating the small moments of goodness and light. And we all experience the shadows, too.
And Tolkien was right, those small acts of love and kindness are strong and glowing. They push back the darkness.
I wanted to talk to someone in the hairdresser. I was unintentionally eavesdropping and heard about the new things coming her way at a young age. And I remembered going through the same thing at the same age. And I wanted to speak up and say something encouraging and hope-filled. I wanted to tell her “it’ll be hard at times, but keep going. It’ll be fun and rewarding, too, and you’ll find your strength and know yourself better and it’ll be worth it!” I wanted to say all of this, but I didn’t. I was too inhibited. Of course, she’ll be OK without my words. It’s me more than her that missed an opportunity, to be kind and share light and feel brighter because of it. I hope I will not miss other moments for simple kindness!
But of course, there have been many, many small, ordinary moments in my summer, gently keeping my darkness at bay. People helping me with little things, or chatting with me, or sending encouraging messages.
And moments of simple love in our family – love of each other, love towards ourselves, love of the gorgeous, fragile world around us. Blackberry picking and baking and bike rides. Swims and small gatherings and little jokes. And reaching towards each other when it would be easier to retreat. Offering comfort when we don’t know how to comfort ourselves. Making things right when we got them wrong. Making drinks and listening. Growing things. Picking flowers and vegetables. Tidying toys and sweeping floors. Praying. Singing. As always, the small things are infinite, and just listing them here pushes back some of that darkness.
Wishing you bright, glowing moments to push back your shadows.


