Contribute.

Last week Dallin and I visited the campus here in Boulder, which I have admired from afar ever since I moved here. The architecture is what I would expect from the front range/almost the prairie/but sort of the desert. It has Romanesque roots, but tries to be southwestern and kind of pueblo-mission, and also reminds me of Frank Lloyd Wright, with lots of straight lines, and stable horizontality. Okay, that was really random, and unfortunately we didn't have our camera during our walking tour. Just trust me, it fits the landscape. All the buildings are terra cotta and wheat colored, which is impressively beautiful against the summer green of the Flatiron Mountains.
During the course of our walk we found the word "CONTRIBUTE" in large block capital letters stamped conspicuously in the sidewalk. I have been thinking of that ever since--or it has been haunting me, more like. I guess I am overly sensitive to feel guilty over a word stamped in a square of sidewalk, but I have been wondering, "Am I contributing?" "To what should I contribute?" Sometimes I feel the need to validate my efforts as a human being. So I am mulling here about me and that contributing state of being.

• I recycle. And I love to do it. I think I might even be a little bit of a recycling Nazi because Dallin will sometimes be in mid-arm swing over the trashcan with a tuna can or a milk carton and I, in shock, will call him out on his grave misdeed (over-dramatization).
  
• If possible, I ride my bike or walk rather than drive the car. I am contributing to clean air (and my high altitude lung capacity).
  
• I plant flowers. I have an organic vegetable garden. I am making a contribution to honey bee survival. I am making a contribution to the beauty of the earth even if I only have a very little bit of earth to tend.
  
• I keep a journal, and have for the last fifteen years. I am making a contribution toward my family history work, record keeping, my writing skills, and good penmanship.
• I run a tidy home. I love to clean. I am contributing to bad germ elimination. I vacuum regularly. I get a little delight from clean counters and a mopped floor.
• I still use the good old post office of the United States to regularly send homemade cards, handwritten letters, and care packages just because. I contribute to the smile of surprise at the mailbox.
  
• I say please and thank you. I smile at strangers. I give people the benefit of the doubt. I contribute to those little old-fashioned nice-ties that make small ripples for good.
• I love my family. I love my friends. I love my Dallin. I contribute to the happiness of the people in my circle of influence.