“We can’t just hope for a brighter day, we have to work for a brighter day. Love too often gets buried in a world of hurt and fear. And we have to work to dig it out so we can share it with our family, our friends, and our neighbors.” ― Dolly Parton*
We live on a main street in Toronto. On garbage day, I have a neighbour who not only takes out the bins for the fiercely independent 98-year old woman beside us, but she’ll often drag our smelly bins out too. We’ve never asked her to do this. Nor has anyone asked her to do regular park clean ups, collect essentials for local refugee centres, or fold all the clothes in the school’s disastrous lost and found, all with a radiate smile. She’s amazing! To me, she embodies kindness.
I’m hot off the heels of the CEC summer retreat and there was a whole lot of great wisdom shared about this month’s theme: kindness. It certainly reinforced my belief that a deep well of compassion lives in each one of us. But before we get into it, I have a small confession.
Kindness. It almost rolls off the tongue with a saccharine sweetness. When I hear the word, part of me rolls my eyes, imagining empty platitudes and scripted social expectations. “Be kind” we tell our children. Across many religions and cultures, we all know the golden rule. Yet, that simple message can also feel trite, insincere, or even impossible.
As meditators, we learn the importance of putting our oxygen mask on first, that taking care of ourselves is essential if we want a well to draw on for others. So, why do so many of us feel resistance with loving kindness practices? Why does self compassion often quickly fall away when we most need it?
This past year was a rough one for me. I navigated family health issues, parenting challenges, personal health problems, work stress, all while showing up to my public education job with a feigned smile. Unsurprisingly, I found myself barely functioning in burnout. I wasn’t showing up as my best self in my relationships or with myself.
This summer I found myself in the hospital. After years of low energy, iron, and my immune system succumbing to every pesky bug, doctors discovered I had a lesion in my stomach at high risk for developing into cancer. The body talks, and mine was screaming. Thankfully an incredible healthcare team got me in for surgery early enough to remove the cells before they developed further.
From this direct need for care, I found myself coming back to the lessons I say I know well, but in truth had strayed quite far from: ground myself, meditate, rest, and honour myself versus getting so entangled in the needs of others. I followed one of my favourite teacher Sebene Selassie’s wise words centering compassion for myself. “Listen — offer presence. Stay in your heart — meet this with love.”
Having the ability to pause and rest began to heal not only the lesion in my stomach, but also allowed me to open and reconnect to myself. Part of kindness means allowing things to be as they are, including ourselves. It is an act of noticing and opening to the idea of appreciating all aspects of experience, a deep acceptance of who we are and where we are at.
Warning: unpeeling those layers of gunk built up, clouding our inner core can be about as pleasant as rolling out the stinky trash bins. Through this experience, I’ve been schooled in the importance of taking out that proverbial trash regularly and observing what’s in my bin. Can I accept where I’m at with a little less judgement? Perhaps I can offer compassion for that inner critic and remember that voice (in a not-so-helpful way) is trying to look out for me? Can I acknowledge that my work situation is really hard today and showing up as my best might not be the gold standard I’d like it to be?
Kindness is an unfolding, spacious opening, not a destination we strive for. The deeper we go with ourselves the more we can access this place of deep connection with others, creating a compassionate foundation from which kindness can flow in all directions.
These acts of kindness don’t need to be grand gestures. Simple, micro moments – an acknowledgement, a smile, looking in someone’s eyes during a conversation, really, truly listening…acts of kindness are the language of love. The Dalai Lama says, “My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness.”
Back to my initial “ick” with kindness. Rather than sipping that intense sugary blast (insert image of a 10 year old me spending my entire allowance on forbidden slushies at Hasty Mart), I’ve come to experience kindness more as a deep rumble. Subtle and strong. A daily practice. Listening deeply. Conscious effort to show care to myself and others. This gentle opening is possible when listening to our true selves instead of performing platitudes. From this authentic place, a full body smile emanates.
As I head into this coming school year, I will continue to remind my students of the most important lessons in my classroom: Respect all. Be kind. Be you, always. My daily work will be to embody them myself too.
*The day I wrote this, Dolly Parton died. An icon in many regards, she embodied kindness in the deepest sense, inspiring a public outpouring of love and appreciation. Beloved for her candid, warm demeanor, a generous donor and advocate for education, LGBTQ+ community, and mentor for countless artists, Dolly embodied someone who knew herself, accepted herself and flaunted who she was. That genuine love for self radiated as deep care and compassion for others. May we all live such a rich legacy of genuine kindness for ourselves and the world around us.
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