“How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world.” ~ Anne Frank

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Divisiveness is everywhere. The cruelty. The chaos. The sorrow. The uncertainty. I won’t deny that I often feel angry, depressed, scared, and overwhelmed.

And yet, I still believe in the goodness of humankind, and I still believe we can write a new story—a better story—for our shared humanity. Not as a way to bypass the darkness, but as a radical act of resistance.

Even now—especially now—I cherish small, magical moments of connection. We still hold the power to change each other’s lives. Even in a smoothie shop.

Let me tell you what happened the other day.

I woke up with a clear plan: Lunch with a dear friend at 12:30 p.m. My morning was shaped around that touch point. What I’d wear, when I’d leave, and how much work I could get done before heading out.

And then at 11:00 a.m., a text: “I’m so sorry, Melody, but I’m not feeling well. Can we reschedule?”

At first, I felt that familiar twinge we all feel when something warm and certain suddenly vanishes. But I understood. I’ve been there too. Life is fluid. Plans change.

After a few moments of disorientation, I found myself holding an unexpected pocket of time, and at first, I tried to fill it. Then I paused.

What if I didn’t rush to restructure it? What if I let this space breathe?

I stepped out onto my back deck, surrounded by bird-songs, hit “record” on my phone, and made an impromptu podcast for my life coaching community.

I spoke from the heart, unfiltered and honest, and talked about what it means to be human right now. I even picked up my Native American flute—unpolished as I am—and let its notes weave itself into the stillness.

I spoke of what I know to be true: We can still invite light into our moments. We can still show up fully.

Afterward, I ran a few errands, and in a spirit of kindness toward myself, I stopped at a new smoothie shop I’d been meaning to try. I looked at it as a small moment of joy and a tiny rebellion against the heaviness of the world.

Inside, a young woman behind the counter—maybe 17—greeted me. Her smile was soft but strained, and her energy seemed burdened by something invisible but palpable.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Melody,” I replied.

“That’s a beautiful name,” she said.

I smiled. “What’s yours?”

“Kathy,” she answered.

In that moment, something shifted. She quietly confided that she was working when she really should’ve been studying for exams. Her shoulders held the weight of pressure, expectation, and exhaustion.

Something suddenly rose up within me. A presence that felt larger than just me. It felt like a quiet calling to step forward.

I said gently, “Let’s pause for a moment. Can I teach you something that might help right now?”

She nodded.

“Breathe in for four…hold for four…exhale for six.”

We did it together right there in the shop—in sync with each other, with the moment, and with life.

“Now let’s add a word. A power word. Something you want to breathe into yourself. Maybe love…or peace…or—”

She looked overwhelmed. Unsure.

I said softly, “What about strength?”

She smiled and nodded.

We breathed again. This time with intention. Breathing in strength, and exhaling that same gift of strength into the world. Grounding. Centering. Energizing.

It only lasted a few minutes, but in those few minutes, something real happened.

I didn’t dim my light. I didn’t hold back. I didn’t shrink out of fear that I was too much. I simply showed up fully, and in doing so, I witnessed someone else come back to herself.

After I finished my chocolate protein smoothie and returned to my car, I heard a quiet nudge from within: Leave her a note.

I took a postcard from my bag—one with my name, my books, and my website—and flipped it over. On the back I wrote:

4 –4–6
I step into my strength.
I handle my life with ease and grace.
I am strong, confident, and believe in myself.

I have the power to do all of this.

I handle my feelings.
I handle this job.
I handle exams.
I can do this.

I walked back inside, quietly slipped the note into her hand, and left.

That small, sacred, ordinary moment made my entire day. 

I always say that errands aren’t just errands. They are invitations, doorways to connection, and opportunities to show up, to love, and to be the fullness of who we are.

Even in a world on edge.
Even in a smoothie shop.
Even in the middle of an errand run.

You can change someone’s day. Maybe even their life. And maybe—if you’re lucky— your own life, too.

So yes, these are painful, overwhelming, and chaotic times. Fascism is trying to claw its way into the sacred heart of democracy and the world feels like it’s unraveling.

And still—this moment is yours. This breath. This stranger. This small choice to be fully present.

Don’t wait for extraordinary circumstances. Show up now.

“You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

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