Be Awkwardly Kind

The most common thing people say when I tell them about giving handmade tokens to strangers is: “I love that idea. I just...I don’t think I could do it.” When I ask why, the answer is almost always the same: it would feel awkward.

Not unsafe. Not absurd. Just...awkward.

And I get it.

Because that’s how I felt at the beginning, too—offering a stranger something without a reason, without an occasion.

Would they think I am weird? Would they feel offended? Would they judge my “bravado?” Would they call the police? I know—ridiculous how the mind spirals in the face of something that doesn’t check an accepted social format.

The rules of engagement are well-defined in every society, every culture, and there’s no script for giving someone something you made “just because.”

We learn that giving should follow strict social protocols: birthdays, holidays, reciprocity. Anything outside these boundaries makes us uncomfortable—not because it’s wrong, but because it’s unfamiliar territory.

We’re not used to that.

We’ve learned to package our humanity in acceptable containers: fundraisers, social media campaigns, branded generosity.

When someone gives us something without a reason, we fumble.

We ask: What’s the catch?

I’ve watched people turn my small tokens of appreciation over and over in their hands, searching for a logo, a cause, an explanation. I’ve seen the moment of confusion shift to unexpected joy when they realize: this is simply one human reaching out to another.

And you know what that’s taught me in the last seven years? Awkwardness is not my sign to stop.

It’s a sign that I’m doing something unfamiliar—something possibly meaningful. That flutter of hesitation—it’s the boundary between the world as it is and the world as it could be.

So, I invite you to join me in this quiet revolution. Start small. A drawing. A poem. A handcrafted token that costs nothing but time. Give it freely, with no expectation. Next time you're waiting in line somewhere, bring a small token. Feel your heart race. Do it anyway.

These interactions might begin with awkwardness. But I can tell you, from experience, that they will end with connection.

The more you practice this small rebellion of kindness, the more natural it becomes. And sometimes—more often than you might think—the stranger becomes a friend.

Maybe, if more of us dared to feel awkward together, kindness would stop being the exception. And in that world—the one we build through these tiny brave moments—we’ll all feel a little less alone.

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On “Enough-ness”

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The Quiet Joy of Giving