In the last reflection, we brought out that our unique identity, our personal script, our lived story, is part of a larger story, not only of the earth but of the universe itself. At its core, it is not a story of isolation and hostility, but of interconnection and interdependence.
We also noted that the direction in which the universe unfolds is towards kindness, compassion, and justice, despite the fear, hostility, and violence that seem to permeate the present world.
In her book, Bitter/Sweet, Susan Cain observes that Darwin has been readily misinterpreted. She notes that perhaps his view is better understood, not as survival of the fittest, but as survival of the kindest. Very shortly before her death, writer June Callwood stated simply: “I believe in kindness.” She says it can be shown in very simple things, such as holding the door open for someone. The Dalai Lama has also said: “My religion is simple. My religion is kindness.” This view also calls to mind Einstein’s words to his daughter that the underlying energy of the universe and the source of its meaning, is love. This is also the view of Teilhard de Chardin.
I recall a poem by W. H. Auden, from my undergraduate days, which found its way into an essay assignment for Marshall McLuhan. I experienced the honour of two courses, and a number of personal conversations. Auden’s poem is titled September 1, 1939. It begins: “I sit in one of the dives/ On Fifty-second Street/ Uncertain and afraid/ As the clever hopes expire/ Of a low dishonest decade.”
A later verse adds: “For the error bred in the bone/ Of each woman and each man/ Craves what it cannot have,/ Not universal love/ But to be loved alone. His conclusion is: “We must love one another or die.”
Some years ago, an article in Maclean’s magazine had the title: “The world is broken—and human kindness is the only solution.” It concluded with the words of James Doty, founder of Stanford University’s Center for Compassion and Altruism Research and Education. “Compassion is what’s going to save our species. …The reality is that for our species to survive, we have to recognize we are all one and everyone deserves the right to dignity, the right to food, the right to security, to shelter and to health care. And until we go on a path toward that world view, we are doomed.”
Recently, I heard an interview with a judge, Frank Caprio, who said that compassion is essential. On the bench he took that approach of listening to people’s stories, to understand what they were dealing with, and treating them with respect and compassion, no matter what the charge against them. He saw it as especially important if children were involved.
We mentioned last time as well that we do need to make a contribution in the larger social context according to our gifts. Yet, in reality, most of our lives are lived out within the smaller circles of family, friends, social contexts, and occasional encounters in the course of our daily lives. These can, however, have a profound impact on the larger societal context. This view has been clearly expressed by anthropologist, Margaret Mead. “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.”
In terms of the smaller circle of the personal, interpersonal, and casual encounter situations, the response summoned seems to be the same: kindness. Translated differently we might reword this approach and speak of acknowledging and responding to the sacred worth or value of each and every person. Even when strong opposition to injustice, cruelty, or hatred is called for, the humanity of those who are opposed would never be denied, nor should they be reduced only to our opposition to them. Hatred is always a problem and never a solution.
In The Keys to Kindness, psychologist Claudia Hammond writes that kindness is at the heart of human relationships. It can improve our own lives and that of others, both physically and mentally.
The root of the word kindness is kin, which expresses a connection to another person or persons. It is also cognate with the word kind, as in kindergarten, and it means child. And of course children most obviously depend upon others, and are among the most vulnerable members of our society. In their book, On Kindness, Barbara Taylor and Adam Phillips define kindness as the ability to bear the vulnerability of others, and therefore of oneself. They add that the pleasure of kindness is that it connects us with others, but it also makes us aware of our own and other people’s vulnerability.
Awareness both of our connection to others and our vulnerability is something that is often denied in our culture. Our society stresses being independent, antagonistic to, and in competition with, one another. It suggests that we need to assert ourselves at the expense of one another. Yet the pervasive loneliness in our society reminds us of our need for connection.
A wonderful example is offered in the folk tale written by Oscar Wilde, The Selfish Giant. After returning home, the giant finds many children playing in his garden. He becomes enraged, chases them away, and builds a wall around the garden to keep everyone out. The result is that no flowers grow, no birds sing, and it is always winter, with icy winds. Some time later, the giant hears a bird singing and notices some flowers growing. He sees that children have crept back in to play in the garden through cracks that have appeared in the wall. He then realizes what has happened. He has a complete change of heart, and welcomes and plays with the children for the rest of his life.
As the children re-enter the garden through crack in its wall, it is once again springtime. The change in weather from winter to spring indicates that the children bring new life to the giant. This story suggests that unless we have cracks in the walls of defensiveness, cracks of vulnerability, so that children can come through–that is, new life, new thoughts, new images–then we shall remain bleak and cold and dark and desolate inside. We tear down rather than build our walls through creative, life-giving, generous, even sacrificial compassion, caring, and love. And a key ingredient is simple acts of kindness to ourselves and others.
It is striking that Taylor and Phillips define kindness as the ability to bear our own and others vulnerability. Perhaps acts of kindness, however small, require us to open our heart, both to flow outwards and to receive within. It may well be that kindness implies the recognition that we are incomplete, that we need one another, that we are invariably connected. Such openness always implies the possibility of being hurt. Yet to be closed always ensures the our lives are ever in winter, ever in a season of lovelessness, even of fear and anger. Possibly turning to kindness, aside from its assistance to well-being, is a step towards openness to deeper connection, to learning the greater openness of love. And beyond intimacy, it is a step in extending that caring in wider and wider circles.
May you more and more have enough kindness for yourself, and extend it gradually to those near and far. And may you make whatever contribution you can to creating a world where interdependence and connectedness are recognized, and where kindness and compassion are honoured.
