Make Me Smile with Miist

By Miist

www.miistthesinger.com/podcast

www.worldsmileinitiative.org

Make Me Smile with Miist book link:

https://a.co/d/09C6gvGV

One day, as I was walking in a park with my family, the thought came to mind: We have forgotten what it means to be human. I noticed no one looked at each other. No one smiled.

When I say we’ve forgotten what it means to be human, I mean we have forgotten that we’re truly a special creation. We weren’t made only to live but to enjoy life. The things that bring us the greatest joys are not what we take, but what we freely give: a hug, a hand to hold, a voice to comfort, a word to encourage, or even just a smile. We can find joy in simply being a friend and giving strength to someone in need.

One of those small joys is a smile. Smiles are hardwired into our amazing psyche to provide endorphins, both when we smile and when someone smiles at us. Our natural and reflexive response to a smile is to return the smile. The positive feelings that smiling causes can carry us through some really difficult times.

Not smiling back at someone is a conscious decision, making us literally fight our muscles’ natural inclination to smile back. In our world today, we have essentially trained ourselves not to do something that is part of human nature. That’s pretty messed up when you think about it.

A smile is one of the most powerful and valuable gifts we can give, as humans, but we have forgotten how to give and freely accept them. We hoard them for only the most special occasions, almost like we have a finite number to give. We divvy them out like a reserved wine to only our closest friends and family. Can you imagine what a difference it would make for our neighbors, cities, and families if we would give smiles indiscriminately and generously instead?

What if everyone around the world started smiling at each other constantly? Do you think there would be fewer fights, arguments, and angry words? The answer, obviously, is yes. Those who disagree, I would venture to say, certainly do not smile enough.

I began thinking about how a simple smile might touch so many lonely people after reading an article that told the story of a young man in Tokyo. This man was found deceased in his apartment, having died alone. He had been there for weeks. In Japan, as in other countries, this has become so common that it’s become known as “lonely death.”

I will never forget his story. Even now, I imagine him walking down the streets, the sounds of thousands of footsteps passing by, and I wonder if anyone will bother to lend him a smile.

I see him walking on those crazy, busy streets of Tokyo, amidst the sounds of cars and buses, smells wafting from restaurants, and the vivid colors of neon signs. Millions of people pass by him.

I feel his pain as he glances at people’s faces, hoping to see a glimpse of kindness or a smile. As my mind follows him, I imagine one or two people making eye contact, sparking a flicker of hope inside him.

Envisioning more and more people walking by, I yearn to see that swelling of support that will save his life.

This story inspired me to write a song called “Could You Lend Me a Smile.” In the song, I express my hope, using the sound of the cellos and violins.

In my song, I imagine people’s attitudes changing and throngs of people coming to his aid—not just to his aid individually, but for all of us. They rise up to change the way we live our day-to-day lives and to connect in the most basic of human responses—a smile.

I included background voices in the song, starting in the second verse, to represent the whispers of the throngs of people. Their voices are so faint you aren’t sure if they’re real or imagined. Hearing them has to be intentional.

The man feels this, as well. He is daring to hope but isn’t sure if it’s just in his imagination.

I imagine that man’s life could have had a different outcome if only a few people showed him kindness, fighting against the inclination to isolate and withdraw, and instead risking a smile. If he had received that most basic of support, he just might have lived. So, I asked myself if I was willing to be one of those people.

In the wake of this realization, my family and I decided to smile at everyone during our walks—no looking down at the sidewalk or avoiding eye contact. Instead, we were determined to purposefully look at everyone we could—and smile. As we started smiling at others, we sometimes saw the same people multiple times during one walk. It became common that the second or third time we saw them, they started smiling back, even the people who had ignored our smiles initially.

It changed the way we lived. And, as with many of the most basic human actions, I’m sure it helped us as much or more than it affected others.

Fifteen Seconds to Change Your World 

Our first fifteen-second tip is really simple, yet so powerful: Smile at the people you come in contact with today, on purpose. Look them in the eye and give them the beautiful gift of a smile from a stranger, brightening both their day and yours.

Count how many people you’re able to smile at and take note of their reactions. How did they respond? How did it make you feel to smile at them?

You may not get a smile back, but you will still feel better. If you are at work, smile at someone next to you. If you are in a coffee shop, find another patron to smile at. If you’re alone, go to a mirror and smile at yourself. Show a lot of teeth. It’s OK to look goofy.

If someone—including yourself—thinks you’re a little crazy, that’s OK. At least they will remember that person who smiled at them, and just maybe they will smile at someone else. We’re made in such a way that smiling releases endorphins. It makes us feel good. So, give it a smile.

My Fifteen Seconds

On my weekly podcast episodes, I personally participate in the weekly fifteen-second actions I ask you to do. Throughout this book, I’ll be sharing a little about how I did that. Together, we can make the world better, one fifteen-second action at a time.

For this episode’s fifteen-second action, I went to smile at my mom. I didn’t tell her why. She definitely thought I was crazy, and that is OK.