Ballast

It may not feel like it right now, but kindness still exists.

It’s not featured on the news. No. There’s no space there for stories of kindness when judges are being threatened, immigrants are having their heads shaved before being put onto planes and flown to prisons in countries which are not theirs, and the safety nets for our elders, disabled, and veterans are being dismantled by childish men who like stomping on the hard work of others the way a bully toddler kicks over the blocks tower of the quieter child simply trying to make their imagination manifest. We’re awash in stories of unkindness. Of cruelty. So much so that it instinctively feels like the right thing to do is fight. To do unto others not as you would have them do unto you, but to match their violence with our own. Light shit on fire. Destroy property. Dox those who think their wealth and power protect them from the wants and needs of people they profess to serve.

We are not the first to carry this question in our hearts: How do we resist? Peacefully? Violently? Is there a balance between the two?

Yet, we need kindness. Forgive me for the triteness. We need kindness now more than ever.

(To be clear: we also need protest and boycotts and to make calls to our representatives and town hall disruptions. AND, we need kindness.)

We need kindness not necessarily as a remedy to the abhorrent predicament we find ourselves in as a country, but as a balm to our own souls. Kindness is a reminder of our shared humanity. Kindness is an expression of the organic system connecting all living beings – human and non-human. I reach out a hand to you, you in turn, reach out your hand to me. I breathe in. The trees breathe out. In this way, we survive the difficult times. On kindnesses.

Two weeks ago, I participated in twenty-four hours of training to become a hospice volunteer. The training is a part of an exploration I have been on for a while now. A search, some might say, to find and strengthen my personal medicine and discover how to bring it forward into the world. Last fall I completed a death doula training course, and now that I’ve completed the hospice volunteer training, I am, theoretically, equipped to sit with those facing their final months, weeks, and days. To provide respite to caregivers and to offer quiet presence and companionship to the dying.

It was my experiences with the death of two of my dearest friends – Linda (died 2019) and Sara (died 2021) – which ignited this desire to better understand death and dying. To come closer to the fact of it, and to find more sophisticated ways of being in conversation with it.

In the hospice volunteer training, we spoke of the dying as people who still deserve choice, dignity, and the chance to live fully – even if the definition of a full life must be amended. We spoke of comfort. We spoke of silence and how not to fear it. We spoke of touch, music, and poetry. We spoke of what the dying have to teach us about living.

In short, we spent twenty-four hours discussing kindness in its truest sense. Showing up for others. Holding hands through difficult times. Laughing during moments of levity (of which there always are some no matter the depth of the darkness). Listening. Truly listening. Hearing the stories of another’s lifetime. What magic. What medicine.

Mr. Rodgers said, “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.”

I didn’t realize how much I needed a dose of kindness until I sat in that training with six strangers who had all come together with an expressed purpose to provide comfort to those in need of it. We didn’t discuss political agendas. We didn’t rage about injustices. We simply spoke of those who were kind to us in our times of personal grief and our deep desire to return that kindness to others in similar need.

Kindness still exists. Go look for it outside of the headlines and the 24-hour news cycle. You will find it. When you do, move closer to it. It will provide you with ballast in these unkind times.

The invitation this week is simple: be kind. Whether that is to yourself or to others or both. Extend kindness to strangers or to someone you love deeply. Look for opportunities to engage with a group of kind individuals. Seek out the helpers. Mr. Rodgers is right. There are always people helping. Ask them how you can help too. There you will find kindness, and kindness will steady you.

If you want to journal, here are a few ideas:

1. Reflect on a time someone was kind to you. Write a letter to that person (you don’t have to send it) thanking them for their kindness.
2. Explore what kindnesses you have to offer your family and friends and/or your community. What are the unique gifts you possess which could benefit others? What is your kindness medicine?
3. Write for 10 minutes starting with this phrase: Kindness is resistance…

May your ballast this week be attuning yourself to the small moments of kindness taking place around you each day. Be a part of those moments.