Spreading was exactly what I had in mind, and it was going to start with the man sitting right in front of me.
I told Dwight about all the people I had met and the gifts given—from the first gift to the most recent one. And then, I got to Dwight.
“There are some people who have kindness in their hearts and some people who don’t,” I told him. “And that’s okay. But you strike me as someone who does, someone who has so much goodness.”
“I try,” he laughed nervously. “I try to keep that goodness. But it’s really rough sometimes to keep your head above water.”
I knew what he meant. Because though a river of kindness might flow between us, sometimes it’s hard to swim in the undertow. We get sucked down by circumstance or by the consequences of our demons, and we forget that it’s only by lifting out our hand out to another that we are saved.
Finally, I asked Dwight the one thing I had wondered since we first met, “Why did you help me?”
He shrugged his shoulders, “Because you needed help.”
Because you needed help.
I spoke some more about the trip and then reminded him of when he told me that he hoped to travel one day.
“Yeah, see for me, it’s special. Because on one level, personally, it’s something that I enjoy, to go see other cultures, be in other environments. But at the same time, it’s professional because I’m training to be a psychologist, and it’s a good way for me to learn what is different about those cultures.”
“Really? So if you could travel the world, that would be like enrolling in the school of life.”
“Oh wow, yeah. Very Kerouac-ian” he laughed. “Basically that would be it. LA is such a big city in such a small place, and there’s more going on outside of it.”
I understood. I had grown up in a big city that felt like a small place. And I had wondered what the world was like beyond it. I had dreamed of that world. And what I discovered was that I brought a piece of every place I visited home with me. A little part of India will always be in me. A little part of Vietnam. A little part of the Griffith Park Observatory.
I knew it was time to tell him why we were here.
“You know how you just talked about your desire to travel the world and go into the school of life and inspire other people and to learn and bring back what you learn to help others?”
“I would like to,” he said wistfully, still not fully comprehending what was about to come.
“Well, you’re going to get that chance.”
“Me?” he said, looking like he had just been run over by his old truck.
“You. What I am going to do is I am going to pay for you to go on an around-the-world journey. Your hotels will be paid for, your spending money paid for, your flights paid for.”
“Whoa. I didn’t expect that.”
“And one more thing.”
“Yeah?”
“I want this journey to go full circle. So along with that worldwide trip, I am going to give you money to change someone’s life. You can decide to change one person’s life. You can decide to change five people’s lives. But what you did to start this journey, I am now giving you the chance to do for someone else.”
Silence.
“Wow. I’m speechless,” he finally said.
He stood up again and looked back out across LA, as though he could now see beyond the edge of its horizon. He started to laugh, his eyes growing wet as he explained. “Nothing like this ever happens to me, so you have to understand that I don’t run into situations like this at all. I’ve never gotten an opportunity before like this.”
He muttered to himself, “Good things never happen to me.”
How many times have we all believed that lie? That somehow we are fated for bad luck and hard times. That we’re resigned to limit our dreams. We tell ourselves that the best stuff in life is for other people; that somehow our dreams are less deserving. But none of it is true. We are free to dream the impossible.
Dwight finally looked at me and smiled, “I’m tripping out, man. I don’t believe you.”
I showed him some photos of the other gifts I had given to people around the world as evidence that this was not a lie.
Finally, the truth began to sink in. “I can’t wait to tell my mother,” Dwight told me. “She’s not going to believe it, either. Thank you so much. I feel like I’m sitting on top of the Himalayas right now.”
“You will be, if you want,” I replied. I watched as the words hit Dwight, as the shackles of his own self-doubt fell away and the whole world expanded before him. I drove him back to the coffee shop where we met. It was nearly six o’clock. Night would be falling soon, but I didn’t need to worry about finding a place to stay. For the first time in months, I had already booked a spot.
And it was only four miles away. I drove back again through Hollywood and down Hollywood Boulevard, wondering if I might run into my friend and his sign. I couldn’t find him, but maybe enough people had seen his sign. Maybe his work was done. As I drove up my street, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. Sure, I had spoken to Lina sporadically over the course of the trip, but now I would be coming home, a slightly different man. And Lina would surely be a slightly different woman.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I had managed to cross three oceans and a world filled with heartbreaking beauty and generous connections; I think I could manage home. I knew that it was like Nora had said: the most important thing, the only important thing was love.
I drove into my driveway, took a deep breath, and walked into my house. Like Argos in Odysseus’ story, the first thing that happened was my dog went nuts. At least he was happy to see me. Then Lina walked down the staircase and immediately melted into my arms. I held her tightly. This person had become the emergency contact of my journey, taking my calls from far-flung places. As much as adrenaline and connection had gotten me across the world, it was Lina’s love that had gotten me home. I remembered Bill and Melissa’s words about being best friends, and I knew that in my arms, I held mine.
The first words that came out of her mouth were, “I am so proud of you.”
And that might have just been the final gift I was really waiting for. I burst into tears while embracing the woman I loved. She held me as I cried my eyes out, proud of what I had achieved. Proud of what I had experienced. And proud of humanity’s goodness that had greeted me around this world of ours.
I thought giving the gift to Dwight would have brought my journey full circle, but I realized that the true start and the true end were right here, in my home, with the person I loved, knowing that the river of kindness flows between all of us, but the tides of love run deepest.
I was home.
Epilogue . . . Or What Happened Next
“The next evolutionary step for humankind is to move from human to kind.”
—Author Unknown
When I first left London to come to America, I had quit my job, sold my flat, and was leaving my family, and yet something inside me felt I was finally going home. I didn’t know that Los Angeles would be my final destination. I probably would have laughed if you had told me as much, but as I woke up in my sunny bedroom that first morning after my return, I began to realize that the connections we make with those we love are the foundation for the rest of our work.
Over the next few weeks, I could barely move. I was physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausted. I spent quality time with Lina and my friends, and, of course, Winston, but I also spent a lot of time with me, still reeling from the magical, impossible journey that had just taken place.
Was I the same man who had left this beautiful city, or had I changed irrevocably? I just kept coming back to that moment in Pittsburgh when Tony gave me the new clothes he had received from the shelter. He had been concerned that I wouldn’t have enough. A man with nothing had given me everything. An
d in that one act, he changed my life forever.
Because now that I was home, I wanted to see that moment replayed in so many of the choices in my life. I wanted to be the person who gave for no other reason than the fact that I cared enough to give. I didn’t want to just connect; I wanted to be concerned. I wanted to be in communion, invested in the lives of others in a way that would forever echo the best of who we can be to each other. By simply holding the door open or going out of our way for someone we barely know, we send out a wave of energy into the world. And we touch each other.
And in that intimacy, we say in the quiet voice that once whispered to me, I believe in you.
Every time someone bought me a tank of gas, those were the words that I heard. I believe in you. Every time someone offered me food or a place to stay, they were saying, I believe in you.
And I want you to know—yes you—that I believe in you.
It’s in that connection that we find the strength to fulfill our dreams. We discover that our trials are worth bearing. Our gifts worthy of offering.
I didn’t know that when I was sitting at my desk in that rainy London office. I thought dreams were fulfilled through self-will and determination. What I learned is that it takes a village to raise a dream. And for this dream, I got to meet the village that spans the world.
I knew that this journey couldn’t end with me. I realized that on an individual basis, we all have the power to create change, but the true magic happens when that revolution expands to touch hundreds, thousands, millions of lives.
It was time for me to start another little revolution.
I kept the flame alive by giving the final gift to Dwight, but there was more I could do. I could hear my own voice now echoing: Leon, there is more.
Over the next few weeks, I started talking to Lina about how I wanted to keep giving the gifts.
“To people around town?” she asked hesitantly. “Or across the world?”
“I’m not sure,” I told her. “I mean, I think what I really want is to give people the gift of the trip I just took. I want other people to be able to give.”
Not that she didn’t have selfish reasons for agreeing, if that meant I might stick around for a bit, but Lina smiled as she said, “I think that’s a great idea.”
And that’s exactly what I decided to do. I would start a charity that would enable young adults to go out and experience the world the same way that I had. But with a catch. They would spend ten days in a city, way, way out of their comfort zone. Think a slum in India, or a rural part of Peru. Maybe a refugee camp in Haiti. And there, they would be of service. Maybe they would work at an orphanage. Maybe they would work with a disaster relief group to save the lives of others.
But in addition, I would offer them the chance to change someone else’s life. They would get to help someone else fulfill their dream—and they would choose who that person was and what the gift should be. They would document their journey on social media, and when they came home they would have to give speeches to their school or their college. Because we have to give it away in order to keep it. Just as I had seen the torch of kindness passed from one soul to the next, so I hoped that these students might be the first to light the flame, but certainly not the last. I decided to name the charity The Human Interaction Project (www.humaninteractionproject.org) because that was what it was all about. It was about dropping the mask, putting down the phone, reaching out to a complete stranger, and connecting in a way that forever changes us.
When I told Lina the name, she smiled. She reminded me of what she had said before I left: “Go and change the world, Leon.”
I know I didn’t change the world, but I hope that I left some small part of it feeling better. I started off with the vague idea of a dream, and along my route, I discovered an even bigger one lurking below. Because at the root of all our love, and the root of all our heartbreak, is that undying, unstoppable desire to be connected to each other. I believe we all want to live in that web of kindness, and not just because of what we receive by being a resident, but by what we are able to give.
After the monk walked away that morning in Big Sur, I looked at the actual river flowing in front of me. There were fallen tree limbs in it, jagged rocks, stones, and pebbles, and yet the water could not be dammed. Much like kindness. The river is flowing, my friends. Go take a swim.
Kindness One and me on the road, ready for adventure.
Sleeping on the rough streets of Pittsburgh with my new friend, Tony.
The moment Tony realized that he was no longer homeless . . .
Couldn’t resist the “I’m the king of the world moment” on my voyage across the Atlantic.
Making new friends at a barbecue during my Atlantic crossing.
Fencing in the streets of Trieste with Alex, the man who offered to give his gift to someone more needy.
My friend Alex and his protégé, Angelo, with the gift of new fencing equipment.
The Montenegrin farmer, Bekim, and his family with their new cow!
Sitting all alone amidst the majestic beauty of the Taj Mahal in India.
Overwhelmed with love in a rural Indian village.
Broken down on the streets of Patna.
My Indian friend Dheeru and his family next to their new rickshaw.
Paying my respects at the tomb of Mother Theresa in Calcutta.
Meditating in Bhutan at the biggest statue of Buddha in the world.
Kids at the Calcutta orphanage drinking clean water for the first time.
The infamous Killing Tree in Cambodia.
Seng and Mai in their new house.
A group of rural Vietnamese after their successful eye surgeries.
Performing at the opera house in Ho Chi Minh City.
Almost home . . .
Where Are They Now?
I am sure you are wondering what happened to the people whom I met along the way—including those not necessarily listed in this book. I made so many brief but incredible friendships, and each one fueled this journey. I wish I could have repaid everyone’s kindness, but like Mother Teresa said, “It’s not how much we give but how much love we put into giving.” And from all of them, I learned to love.
Here is what happened to them after our meeting:
Willy and Chery went to England and attended their son’s wedding, taking pictures and gracefully making a toast in my honor. Tony is living in his house in Pittsburgh and has attended culinary school in an effort to change his life. The transition from living on the streets to a far more normal life has not been without its challenges. But as I told Tony on the day I met him, he has a friend for life, one who will always be there for him as he was there for me.
Finesse and Tchale have recorded their music video and you can find it at www.tchaleandfinesse.com. Their music can brighten up even the darkest day, so if you are a famous music producer please go and visit their site. They continue to inspire.
Under the tutelage of Alex, Angelo has enrolled in fencing school, where he is learning from his master how to be a champion on the court and in life. Bekim and his family have a new cow, which Bekim has joked that they plan on calling Leon. I gently suggested this wouldn’t be necessary, but there could be a cow named Leon roaming the hills of Montenegro right now! Though my small gift was only a drop in the ocean, Mehmet and Nasuh were able to use the funds to buy more equipment for their rescue workers, not only changing lives, but also saving them.
Dheeru is driving his new rickshaw around Delhi providing for his family. I have spoken with him a few times since our chance meeting, and hopefully one day I will take him up on his offer to drive me around town for free. Dilip’s eldest son is enrolled in one of the best schools in Varanasi. His youngest son is still too young to attend school, but hop
efully he will be inspired to follow in his brother’s footsteps. Dilip, my friend, if you are reading this, you are still one of the best teachers your boys could ever find.
The kids at the Calcutta orphanage are no longer drinking unclean water. The purifiers were recently delivered, and that’s now one less thing to worry about. In addition, they have received the sports equipment as well as a fully stocked library filled with stories that I hope might light up their imagination, as books have always done for mine. Seng and Mai are living in a proper house for the first time, which a local charity joined in helping build. The construction has just finished, and there will be no more rainy days to worry about. And in Vietnam, the doctor and his staff were able to provide one hundred eye surgeries to people in need, showing that sometimes the best place to use the gifts we learned abroad is right at home.
In Whistler, the dog shelter received all the goodies to cheer up the dogs and their human companions. And last but not least, Dwight is currently on his journey around the world, on a break from school. I often wonder whom he will meet, and how he will be changed by the connections he creates and the love I am sure he will find. I look forward to hearing his story when he returns.
A Note from the Author
As I mention several times in the book, I was traveling with a film crew to document this journey. The crew’s role was to hang back until I had made the personal connections myself, and only then emerge to document the moment. They were respectful and only came into the story as requested by me. The Kindness Diaries is my story of connection with people around the world, and I have made every effort to keep those encounters as genuine as possible without going into detail of what the crew was doing at any particular place and time. Suffice to say they had their own experiences (and plenty of their own stories), which are not in the scope of this book to detail.
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