(I feel like I should post a disclaimer because I actually dislike the movie Castaway. It's a great movie, but the ice skate scene freaked me out as a child. This song is lovely and hits the message I want to send so I'm sending it.)
I leave seashells for people. Not literal ones. Not usually.
My way of keeping up with and interacting with friends is sporadic and inconsistent at best. One week, my focus may be on one friend and then next week it's on a completely different friend. Or maybe it's on a family member or a coworker or a church member or a stranger or even myself. My attention is pulled in so many different directions and the number of directions is always increasing. To help combat this, if I see, hear, or find something that reminds me of someone, I will try to reach out to them in that moment. I will leave them a meme, a song, a quote, a physical object, a letter, or some other type of message. It's my way of saying, "This reminded me of you. I hope you're doing well. I hope you're okay."
I don't ever expect an immediate response. I don't expect a response at all, most of the time. Life is busy. People have bigger priorities than me. They are also being pulled in a million directions. The last thing I want to be is a distraction. Some of them may not even remember me by the time I actually reach out. My goal isn't a response. My goal is to brighten their day.
I've left folded paper swans in airports for complete strangers I never saw again. I've left messages on public chalkboards of places I visit, not knowing who they will reach. I leave thank you notes, flowers, songs, and smiles. I leave a seashell and move on with the hope that, one day, maybe someone will return and see the little collection of seashells I left while they were gone. Maybe they'll return. Maybe they won't. Either way, I still leave seashells.
I want them to know that someone somewhere out there still cares. Someone still remembers your presence. Someone still remembers the way your face lit up when you got your first motorcycle, the pain in your voice as you told me about your divorce, the look of gratitude as I brought you your favorite energy drink, the smile when you got silly emoji golf balls for Christmas. Someone still remembers your sub order because you ordered the same exact thing every single time you came in. Someone still remembers the cake flavor at your wedding. Someone still remembers how hard it was for you to be away from your family while we worked on a fire in Wyoming so we'd go on group coffee runs while the sky was still dark. Someone still remembers you are deathly allergic to pine trees and lillies and walnuts and red meat and peanut butter and cats. Someone still remembers your favorite color. Someone still remembers your deepest fear. Someone still remembers how hard you worked to get yourself through college so you could get your dream job only for that job to turn into a nightmare. Someone still remembers the crack in your voice as you pointed to the ink in your skin and explained what it meant to you. And the reason why you gauged your ears. And why you dyed your hair pink. And why you wear an orange ribbon. And why you love cardinals. Someone remembers when you lost your daughter. Someone remembers when you lost your mom. Someone still remembers your name. Someone somewhere out there still cares, even if they are terribly inconsistent at communicating it.
I don't think I am alone in this. I have been left seashells too. A text, a call, a song, a meme, a note, a letter, a bouquet of flowers. A ray of sunshine on a rainy day. People paid for my order without knowing who it was that benefitted. People gave me stickers. People took an interest in what I am interested in and acted on it. People have looked at me and seen the potential I did not see in myself. They encouraged me to be better. So when that random thought comes up, "I wonder how they're doing," reach out. Leave a seashell. Start with people you know, but don't let it end there. You never know what impact you'll have. Be light. Be salt. Be the example you would follow. In a world where you can choose kindness, don't choose to be anything less.
I will keep leaving seashells. May you see the little collection and remember that someone somewhere still cared long after I'm gone. Be that someone too.
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