Tag Archives: kindness

October, Community

Intention
It struck me in the last month or so that the recurring themes in my Living Practice center around a deep desire for intimacy, for connection, and to offer something valuable to the world. That recognition was quickly followed by the cringe-inducing irony that I have attempted to find and foster these things All. By. My. Self. Perhaps my growing dissatisfaction and dwindling interest in this project stems from the fact that it’s all about me. I am so, incredibly, and completely sick of myself. What began as an earnest investigation of morality, of my value system, feels increasingly like precious, pointless narcissism. Nothing I cultivate within myself will actually make me a better person, or feel more connected to the world around me, if I continue to stay deliberately separate from it.

I thought that this work would give me a new purpose, or give me the confidence and the courage to go into the world and discover one, but I was wrong. I have no perspective. I will never be “ready”. If anything, the harder I work at it, the more disgusted I become, and the more discouraged I feel.

I wanted to create an authentic identity to offer to the world, rather than accepting the one that was projected on me by the perception of others. Breathing life into the boundaries of the world’s collective hallucination of me left me exhausted, with no energy left to develop anything that was authentic to my own desire. Eventually, I collapsed under the weight of my own vapidness. This project was an earnest and hopeful attempt at reconstruction, but I have failed to sustain any consistent, cohesive sense of self, and not having a reliable psychological construct of “me” makes it difficult to operate in the world. It makes is hard to care about anything. It makes it hard to stay up late and work. It makes it hard to carry meaning in my heart, or be accountable to anyone. Since I started watching the sense streams that get synthesized into an experience, my experience, I haven’t been able to keep them bound together. My sense of self is so random, so fluid and rapidly changing that it’s functionally absent; it feels deeply unreliable for accomplishing even the simplest tasks. I can’t do this by myself. Uncle. Having collapsed once from the effort of fulfilling personas I never consciously chose, I now find myself staggering under the labor of invention.

Relationships are the structures that house our communion. In rejecting so much of the world, I cut loose a lot of bullshit, but also a lot of help. I grossly underestimated how difficult it is to live in the absence of a defined role that emerges before me, as I live and work among people who have expectations of me. I did not know how little I have to offer myself, and how hard it would be to be reliable companion to my constantly emerging experience. My sphere of influence has grown very small – I never anticipated that my disappointments would continue all the same, or amplify.

October Activities

  • Say yes to social engagement. Make plans, go to parties, cook meals for others, seek opportunities to be with others.
  • Attend to the people around me with kindness and curiosity. Show up and listen fully.
  • Do metta practice five times a week. Connect with and cultivate my intention to be present and be kind. Pray daily, or as often as needed.

Expectations
I expect to fail. I always do. I wish I liked failing better, but I haven’t figured out how to shake the false dichotomy of success and failure. I expect that I will also have some success living into the humblest and noblest edges of my capacity, and those actions will reside long enough in the memory of someone else, that I will bump into a better version of myself again. This is the beauty and the gift of community.

What do I Value?
I value being loved. I value being recognized. I value being seen, when I can not see myself, and gently roused to action. I value being part of something larger than myself and being called to serve my part. I value being appreciated for my work.

What do I Want?
I want to be nourished. I want a cohesive identity that will give me purpose and stability. I want to stop leaking and evaporating. It is not enough to be a conduit for life, that energy must be directed at something that reflects it back at me. I want to flourish, and have a reason for doing so.

Where is the Resistance?
It’s hard to act differently than I feel. It feels dishonest to me. I’m confused about how to honor and allow my experience without becoming trapped in it, how to reorient to a perspective where I don’t feel as though I’m choosing between honesty and humility. I have a hard time not resenting a reality that doesn’t match my desire. Even when I see the resistance, or think I do, acceptance remains elusive.

What am I Willing to do?
I am willing to do my best. I am willing to keep trying. I am willing to do the legwork and the planning that goes into meeting my commitments to other people. I am willing to roll with how things unfold, and remember that my job this month is to be present and pleasant.

What is Gained and Lost?

Gained

Security – when you show up in the world, consistently, you leave a residue of expectation that helps you orient to the same behavior when you re-encounter it. You don’t have to perpetually remember to meet your own expectations – people carry them and hold them out for you to step in to.

Recognition – it’s nice to be thanked. It’s really nice to be thanked warmly, and sincerely, without any prompting. It’s nice to be smiled at.

Lost

Freedom – I had this notion that by staying undefined, new possibilities would open up, that the right thing would come to me, because I would not have shut it out. It’s hard to let go of this idea, it’s so romantic. But I’m not free. I remain a slave to myself, and I’m a terrible master. I’m not ready for this kind of freedom. I’m wasting it, I’m withering in it. It’s time to concede what I haven’t earned anyway, and instead allow it to be given to me. Grace never stops shocking me in its gentleness.

The Ordinary Nature of Kindness

June’s Kindness practice was surprisingly difficult. I picked Kindness, in part, because I expected it to be easy and enjoyable, like Love or Gratitude. I’ve hit a wall in my practice – I am feeling burned out and uninspired, and supremely confused. The more I practice the smaller and less significant I feel. The stiller I become and the less I do, the more the small space around me intensifies. I was looking for a value that I could cruise on for a month, but alas, Kindness wasn’t it.

I imagined kindness to have a warm glow about it – that there would be a pleasurable, rosy, post-giving aftermath. I thought the more I did it, the easier it would get, that I would stumble into some sort of generative love loop that would make everything around me feel nicer. But for me, at least this month, more than anything, I found it to be a lot of work.

My acts of kindness were small and ordinary. I often had trouble differentiating them from basic responsibility. Things like holding doors for strangers, fixing the tumbled-over lawn decoration of the neighbor, bringing flowers to a grieving friend, creating time for my husband to relax, and remaining patient and compassionate with my kids when I wanted to storm out of the room, all feel like part of being a responsible citizen, neighbor, friend, spouse and parent. The things that felt most special to me, were performed for their own sake, with no possible expectation of acknowledgment: tracking down the buzzing of a trapped bee and opening the window to release it; burying a bird we hit with our car, and showing my children the importance of honoring the sanctity of life.

Some gestures were small and easy, some required planning and sacrificing my limited free time. Some felt really good, and some were a total struggle, that I didn’t enjoy at all, at least while they were happening. Especially with my children, I realized that sometimes the kindest thing I can do – when they are needy, and I am exhausted – is to simply not make the situation worse. Remaining calm, objective and pleasant when I’m angry and tired takes a lot of effort. I always thought of kindness as something that is overtly generous, but I was surprised how often it ended up being an act of non-deterioration.

June was a difficult mood month – nights of dark dreams, and lots of daytime restlessness, anger, and sadness. It’s hard to know if that pervasive tone contributed to Kindness being difficult, or if it was partially generated by my practice. I struggled to articulate what counted as a distinct act of kindness and why. Selflessness – the deliberate choice to make my experience secondary, without denying it – became the criteria I used most, and I did not like how much I disliked self-subjugation. A surprising amount of the time there was a small (or large) inner protest about putting someone else first. It was disheartening to see how hard I had to work at being consciously nice. I expected this resistance – this fear that if goodness is not effortless it is not genuine, or worse, not innately present – but I had no idea how hard it would be to witness and accept this on a regular basis. To be sure, being kind was much easier when I was well-rested, and unrushed.

There were no major insights that came out of my practice this month, nothing that clicked, no sacred moments where I felt confident that I was acting in purposeful alignment. In practice, Kindness seemed nearly indistinguishable from good manners and responsibility. Kindness felt extraordinarily pedestrian.

June, Kindness

I am ready for something soft and gentle, so for June, I have selected the value of Kindness.

Intention
Kindness is the offering of one’s heart to another. It presents as tender, even when there’s effort required. It has soft eyes, which requires a soft body, and a soft heart. It’s an offering of acceptance and service. It is an act of nurturing.

Sometimes kindness is compassionate, like giving your love and attention to an upset child, even if they’ve behaved poorly. It can also be an easy gesture of affection and gratitude, expressed to recognize the beauty in someone else. And sometimes it’s the hard, hard work, of showing a nasty-acting person the respect they deserve, despite their determination to be treated otherwise. In all cases, kindness is generative, it’s about recognizing the gifts around us, and then acting in a way that offers something in return. Kindness is the presence of mind to recognize a chance to serve someone else, and the willingness to do so graciously. It requires giving beyond our normal pattern. It has an element of surprise – part of what makes kindness so enjoyable is that it is unexpected, and given without expectation.

Kindness is a mark of maturity, it’s deliberate and conscious. Sometimes kindness is the act of restraint, of not putting one’s own needs, thoughts, and desires before another’s. It’s knowing how to let one’s own experience be secondary, without denying it. It’s about not taking oneself so seriously, in order to make room for someone else. It’s selfless.

June Activities

  • Metta practice – Loving Kindness practice for my formal sits.
  • Do something nice for someone in my family, at least once a day.
  • Keep a daily record of acts of kindness – this kind of journaling helps keep me accountable.
  • Mindful hand washing. Washing my hands deliberately and gently throughout the day will act as a touch stone for this practice, and serve as a small act of tenderness.
  • Get enough rest. It’s harder to be giving to others when I feel the stress of not being rested. Lights out by 10:00.

Expectations
I expect that my kindness will be received and understood as such. Genuine kindness doesn’t require this, but I often do. I have a deep-rooted expectation that other people should be grateful for my kindness, which of course leads to all kinds of confusion on my part about kindness. I expect this practice is going to be hard, even though I chose it thinking it would give me a little bit of a breather. I have a huge amount of resistance (again) to something that I thought would be easy. I have an expectation that kindness should come naturally, easily, if I am a good person, and that is probably all tangled up in my resistance.

What do I Value?
I value the ability to love well and often. I value the chance to teach my children what this feels like, so that they might have it as a foundation to their own lives. I value the ability to act like a better person than I might feel like, and to savor the gift of genuine service.

What do I Want?
I want to feel good. I want to enjoy being with people. I want to get better at celebrating others, and be moved to thank them for what they offer. I want to be an example of what it looks like to behave well, even when it’s hard.

Where is the Resistance?
I am confused about kindness, and irritated by that, since I thought this value would relatively easy. I have some deeply ingrained expectations that doing things for others merits appreciation from them. It’s upsetting and hard to admit that, but it’s true. That attitude seems like the antithesis of kindness, and having to confront that (repeatedly) in my practice is going to be painful. And because of this, I am going to get kindness wrong – a lot. And that is going to be hard, because I really, really want to be a nice person. I really, really want to believe that I am a nice person, and that that comes effortlessly most of the time.

Being conscious of kindness is going to bring me face to face with the reality of what I’m actually like most of the time, which is self-centered and impatient. I get worn out and I lose my ability to recognize the good things around me. I feel needy. I feel young. Sometimes I let my selfishness leak out under the guise of honesty. If I have reservations about something, or it’s not exactly the way I imagined it, I feel compelled to say so. But the articulation of those things can needlessly mar what is an otherwise enjoyable experience, and distract me from the positive parts. I’m confused about the line between willing sacrifice and denial. I’m confused about the difference between taking responsibility for my feelings, and making the whole world be about how I experience it.

The trouble with acting selflessly, is that it’s very hard to maintain on your own, especially when it doesn’t feel good. So much of what I believe about kindness involves not putting one’s needs ahead of someone else’s, but that leaves me wondering, how then does one be kind to oneself?

What am I Willing to Do?
I am willing to remind myself to work on this every day. I am willing to look for opportunities to pause and consider if I need to be first. I am willing to remind myself that I don’t need to be right to be successful. I am willing to do my best, knowing it will never be as good as I want, and cut myself some slack. I am willing to forgive myself for having unrealistic expectations.

What is Gained and Lost?

Gained
I hope to gain better clarity around the nuances of what I can truly offer without expectation, and what has subtle strings attached. Pure acts of kindness – if such a thing is even possible – will be hard for me and I expect that this practice will expose that.

Faith – In theory, giving sincerely should create reciprocal benefit. I have a lot of trouble believing this enough to test it, but hopefully, I will discover, that by being kind, I will still have enough, and with less effort.

Skill – At the very least, I think I will gain awareness about when I make a choice not to be kind. If things go really well, I will improve at acting kindly too.

Lost
I am sure I am not as kind of a person as I like to think I am. If I do this practice well, I’ll lose some of that illusion. Ultimately, I think this is a good thing, but it will be painful to face. I’ll lose my romanticism that virtues are pleasurable, and that goodness is automatic.