A New Year to Be Kind: Everyday Magic, Day 885

I know the Dalai Lama says his religion is kindness, but it took a while for this truth to catch up with me. As I get older, it overtakes me: intelligence, creativity, initiative, even happiness and many other qualities, without kindness, are hollow at best, dangerous at worse.

While I am stripped and spotted with many flaws, the flaw I’m most ashamed of is when I’m unkind, that is, when I catch such moments. It’s easy enough to see when I lose my temper (mostly catalyzed by stuff with family, or any headline involving he-who-will-not-be-named-but-will-in-inaugrated-soon). But there’s also those micro-aggression moments when I’m dismissive or simply not aware of someone or something, and striving to be kinder means getting realer so I can do less harm in this world.

There’s also the issue of balance and boundaries. Sometimes I struggle with what the kind thing is to do when I’m struggling to take care of myself (an essential foundation for kindness). As an Olympic gold ribbon champion of overfunctioning, trying to decide how to be kind can stop me in my tracks, and often, there’s no clear answer. I breathe, and try to choose wisely, which inevitably leads me toward a hot bath before I leave the house, do the task, make the call…..or not. Being kind to my young adult children has a whole lot to do with doing less for them and conveying how much I know (or desperately hope) they will find their own best answers (although I often trip into offering more than enough advice).

There’s also what I label in my little head as “black hole people” who are so damaged and hurting that they need — or seem to need — every ounce of attention possible. As a former black hole person (hello, early 20s!), I can relate, but I know how being kind entails sustaining ourselves, finding and holding healthy boundaries (confusing since those fences have a way of moving), and in the whole complex enterprise, being kind.

There’s also the very quiet opportunities for kindness as many sages note when encountering someone who can do nothing to benefit you. I’ve failed at this infinite times, yet striving toward kindness means looking at what the moment offers. Do I let the person in a rush get in front of me at the food co-op? Do I listen to someone I hardly know tell me a long story when I’m tired and just want more pita and hummus at the party? Yup, it’s back to boundaries here, but kind ones communicated without an edge in my voice.

Falling out of balance seems to me to be one of the leading causes of jerk-aholism. I’ve noticed for years that with organizations I’m part of, when someone acts seemingly cruel and mean, it’s almost always because that someone is burnt out, exhausted from working without adequate support or recognition, running scared, and/or too isolated to see the ramifications of bad actions. The same is true for me when I’m unkind, and given how life has a habit of throwing more at us than we can deal with at times, it’s inevitable that despite my best intentions, I will screw up again and again. I’ll land on the floor where I’ll need to cultivate a bit more kindness toward myself for failing, then get up again.

Being kind is a state of being: it’s embodied, and we feel it in our bones and organs (just as cruelty can feel like a kick in the stomach). When my heart is wrapping around another’s heartbreak, I carry a visceral sense of sorrow and yearning. It’s not easy. It can be tiring too, but what else are we here for? I think of being at Aaron’s memorial service (see previous post) a few days ago, and how all of us were held together in the active love a community can make when holding together the impossible. We cried at how he died. We laughed at stories of his kamikaze skiing. We hugged on another. It was a kindness to have been there (to have gone, to have been so welcomed): a door open into the ultimate meaning of belonging and purpose. It’s a gift to be part of collective kindness.

And it’s a gift to practice kindness alone and with others, in the light and in the dark, and in the kindly-emerging one-of-a-kind present.

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About carynmg

I'm the Poet Laureate of Kansas, author of 14 books, and founder of Transformative Language Arts at Goddard College. I love the earth and sky, and being outside as well as yoga, reading, writing, being with friends and family and community.

4 thoughts on “A New Year to Be Kind: Everyday Magic, Day 885

  1. Thanks, Caryn. I needed this to start the new year, which I pray is an improvement on 2016. I will print and refer to it.

    Be kind and carry on!

    Susan

    On Sun, Jan 1, 2017 at 9:33 AM, Caryn Mirriam-Goldberg wrote:

    > carynmg posted: “I know the Dalai Lama says his religion is kindness, but > it took a while for this truth to catch up with me. As I get older, it > overtakes me: intelligence, creativity, initiative, even happiness and many > other qualities, without kindness, are hollow at be” >

  2. Oh, how I needed to read this. After I yelled at he who shall not be named on NPR this morning, my husband came in and said he didn’t know which was worse–HWSNBN or my yelling. He was joking, I know. Still, what’s the point. It’s going to happen and the best way for me to deal with it is to treat people as kindly as possible. I also need to pay attention to my own shortcomings, one of them being my lack of self-discipline in my writing. I’m easily distracted and I must learn to get back the focus that I once had. The holidays were fun, with family all together, but now it’s time to buckle down, do what I can to make life better for everyone and stop yelling at the radio.

  3. I’m not sure my earlier comment was posted, but I won’t try to repeat it except to say thank you for this. I know I need two things for 2017: kindness and focus on what I should be doing. I also need to quit yelling at HWSHNBN every time I hear him on NPR. We’ve given up watching TV news.

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