Kindness on Purpose

Recently my dad sent me the small kindnesses poem by Danusha Laméris. I like how it simply describes the ways in which we, in our everyday lives of doing, dining, and driving, extend what we call kindness in easy and natural ways: moving our legs and feet to let others squeeze by. Offering up a sincere smile and getting one back. Allowing others to pass us on the road. These small kindnesses, which are frequently instinctual and take little effort, are what I believe to be the building blocks for a more deliberate form of kindness – the kind that requires our intention and perhaps at times a little muscle. Block by block, the foundation is laid for a new level of cooperation and compassion, one that extends beyond common courtesy and catapults our society from everyday niceties into a new way of being with one another. 

Kindness on purpose is a form of upleveling that changes the way the game is played. No longer content with simple pleasantries, we morph into someone who actively scopes out opportunities instead of just phoning in pleases and thank yous. This new approach allows us to offer more of ourselves than we ever thought possible. It delivers on a promise of openhearted loving kindness towards all beings and erodes the separateness we most often feel while standing right next to one another. Developing this skill, however, means that we must give our attention to the moments unfolding before our eyes, and this kind of attention-giving requires a level of intention that is only acquired through dedication and repeated practice. 

In her novel Precious Bane, author Mary Webb writes, “for if you stop to be kind you must swerve often from your path.” Since its first publication in 1924, this line has frequently been modified, however almost a century later its sentiment remains. Psychologist and meditation instructor Tara Brach wrote about the version she had taped to her office wall which read: to be kind, you must swerve regularly from your path. In her essay she described how busyness and goal directed attention can take away our sensitivity toward opportunities to be kind. In other words, the busier we make ourselves the less likely we can maintain awareness of the needs of others and the ways in which we can offer help. 

With our brains swimming in the lists of things we feel we must get done, and the hours dwindling away on the clock, most of us see ourselves in an invisible race that only we are running. We are forgetting that if a birthday card isn’t purchased (and therefore will arrive late), or if a fundraising deadline isn’t met, or if the email doesn’t get sent out by the end of the workday, not only will the Earth keep on spinning but we, and everyone we suspect will be negatively impacted, are in fact going to be OK. Once we arrive at this understanding and recognize the fact that we can never get it all done – that any items left unchecked on our to-do lists will simply be moved to tomorrow – we can begin to relax and soften a bit around the edges. 

Another block to our awareness and therefore intentional acts of kindness are intrusive thoughts, which can be just as damaging to our attention if not more than our drive for goal completion. Thinking is helpful when we need to decide the best route to take, or to calculate how much cash we will need when we visit the ATM. It becomes ineffective, however, or in some cases detrimental, when we favor the repetitive, unhelpful thoughts in our head over maintaining present moment awareness and thereby discovering opportunities to be kind on purpose. 

When we take one step away from our internal world of ruminating thoughts and checklists and extend the view out past ourselves and into this open, messy, and often beautiful landscape, our world suddenly becomes bigger. It is here that we take notice of the elderly woman in the parking lot who needs help with her cart, or the teenager at the gas station who seems to be having trouble with the pump. This spacious and widened view also lets us observe a mom struggling with three young kids – two of which appear to have tear-stained cheeks. While each scenario may not instinctively tell us which ways we can help, our awareness of the situation means that at the very least, we remember our intention of kindness on purpose and can send our energies of love and empathy. This act of observing and responding warmly is far better than letting each person’s plight go unnoticed while our mind continues to replay an upsetting phone call from yesterday. 

In each of these scenarios and countless others we can swerve to be kind, but only if we strive to maintain our attention on the here and now. While getting lost in goal-directed attention or our own internal tape reel of thoughts is a common human experience and should be expected; intention setting offers us a buffer against becoming beholden to these self-serving objectives and internal ramblings. If at the start of each day we can remember our intention, then we are given a chance to partake in acts of kindness on purpose, which do a whole lot more for our own well-being and that of others than remaining stuck in our mental chatter or solely focused on our dogged, goal-driven behavior. 

Setting the intention to be kind on purpose isn’t as hard as one might think. First, consider a space you often frequent in the morning where you can place a post-it note reminder. Ideal locations might be your bathroom mirror, the dashboard of your car, or the area near your computer. You may have several intentions or just one, but keep in mind that one is all it takes. An intention might be may I swerve to be kind today or may I maintain my awareness so that I am able to be kind on purpose. Or your intention may be as simple as may I stop and notice the world around me today. Intentions do not need to be verbose or complicated; the more succinct the intention the easier it will be to remember. 

Because we often forget as our day moves on, a good measure to instill is that of restating your intention each time before you exit the vehicle. After you have shut off the ignition and before opening the door, take ten or fifteen seconds to observe your surroundings and remember your purpose for this location. Once you have done that, remind yourself how you would like to show up by restating your intention aloud or in your mind. This brief period not only grounds us; it allows us to reconnect with our intention and this goes a long way in our aspirations of kindness that go the extra mile. 

For intentions to remain intact over the long haul it does take a willingness to set aside, again and again, those nagging proclivities toward time-limited, individualistic goal setting and the false need for incessant thinking. A regular mindfulness practice can help us to take a step back from these urges and to recognize them as something outside of us and not the essence of who we are. This realization that we live beyond our thoughts and are not held prisoner to them affords us the ability to choose kindness over busyness, and openhearted awareness over being lost in thought. 

There are moments where even small kindnesses end up taking a back seat. It may be on a crowded subway during rush hour or at a popular grocery store on the eve of Thanksgiving. In many of these situations we notice that eye contact is rarely made, and strangers fail to offer smiles or even pardoning gestures as they fervently chase goals in favor of being kind. Whether that goal is the last seat on the bus or the last bag of frozen bread rolls, the greater our urgency and drive the less likely we are to extend the kind of behavior which should come most readily. This is precisely when our work done on intention setting can have a big payoff. Repeated practice rewires the circuitry in our brain, and this means that even when we are frazzled or pressed for time (or exhausted or not feeling well) and apt to forget our most basic acts of kindness, we will now be primed to stop and regain awareness of not only elementary levels of courtesy but also those opportunities to engage in kindness on purpose. 

Whereas kindness on purpose is dynamic, energy-filled, and demonstrates a willingness to put oneself out there for the benefit of both parties, small kindnesses require minimal effort and most often, one can be lost in their own train of thought and still be able to perform these rote customs of courtesy and respect. They may promote civility and keep in line with our morals of virtuous and benevolent behavior, but they don’t provide the same benefits as kindness on purpose. Have you ever felt deeply touched when a stranger, prompted by your sneeze, said gesundheit? It’s unlikely, due in large part to the fact that this ranks low on the effort scale, and not once did you notice them take their eyes away from their phone when they acknowledged your sneeze. 

Kindness on purpose gives us a chance to see beyond the person labeled stranger. Seeing more of this person – perhaps their warmth, pain, vulnerability, or need for support – we step into the sacred territory of belonging. Compassion naturally rises as we identify that their needs are no different from ours. They too suffer – with a headache, an aching heart for one they’ve lost, or feelings of shame and guilt. They too want their most basic needs met – a warm meal that evening with family, a safe drive home, and a feeling of respect from those they encounter. When we stop and take notice of these individuals, we are reminded of ourselves, and therefore it becomes easier to offer the kind of love and support that we too would wish to have. 

The results are felt in both the giver and receiver. The giver feels good about the way he or she put their love and care into another being, and the receiver feels not only a sense of being loved and cared for in this brief exchange but also seen and acknowledged. Kindness on purpose demonstrates how easy it can be to make a real and lasting change in someone’s day simply by taking on the task of observing and responding where needed. When your intention of kindness on purpose becomes greater than your to-do list or persistent internal chatter then both you and the world benefit in ways that are profound and create a lasting impact toward change.   

Arriving at the place where we openly accept upgraded offerings of kindness is not always easy to come by. Each of us may struggle with issues of trust and feelings of unworthiness as we learn to open to and find sincere appreciation for these out-of-the-way versions of kindness. With today’s society lauding every man for himself, it takes us by surprise when a stranger with nothing to gain suddenly swerves from their path to bestow an act of kindness. Not only are we not used to this level of friendly behavior, but we also may question the person’s motive. Since we have become inclined to believe that doing good for the sake of doing good doesn’t really exist, the receiver of such kindness might think, why is  this person adding time to their shopping trip just for me? Worse than suspicion rearing its ugly head, we may feel unworthy of this deliberate kindness as a direct result of our own lack of self-love and acceptance. Without a feeling of self-worth, we feel undeserving and shy away versus accepting such kindness with a full and open heart. Feeling undeserving is a common experience for many of us. Practicing love and patience with ourselves, along with a dedication to inner work practice, can work to free the parts inside of us that have trouble accepting kindness when it is offered. 

Participating in this type of kindness requires courage, and this may be why it isn’t readily seen or experienced. It takes one form of courage to offer a friendly greeting to someone next to us in line, or to strike up a conversation in an elevator. It takes another form of courage to offer our assistance in ways that can make us feel vulnerable. We have no way of knowing how the other person will respond, but we can take a deep breath, follow our God-given instincts, and allow our courageous heart to guide us. The more frequently this is practiced the more the word stranger loses its meaning and future moments with those we don’t know become something less anxiety-ridden and more natural and comfortable. The more we see, the less we can unsee our fellow humans in all their beautiful dimensions. As we further develop our understanding of an interconnected, nondual existence, we relax into our shared belonging and begin to feel a deep sense of warmth and love that emanates from within. 

At the close of the poem Laméris wonders if these brief moments of exchange are the dwelling of the holy, for we have gotten so far from tribe and fire. While all kindnesses serve both the blessed and those who created the blessing, I can’t help but wonder that if small kindnesses might create shared fleeting temples that allow us to dwell in the holy, what might big, deliberate kindnesses create? 

Tara Brach reminds us that if we act on purpose, using our intention which helps us remember to be kind, we might just become a little more focused on those around us and less on our to-do lists, which by now we’ve learned to relax about because these lists are never getting done (and this is OK!). What, then, becomes most important? It’s simple really. Going out of our way to let others know how much we care about them. As Laméris puts it, stepping into the fire circle or tribal area to have a little more of each other – to offer compassion and feel into the needs of our community, which we know extends outside of those living in our home or our extended family. 

The world, Tara says, desperately needs to take care of each other. By acting deliberately in kind and loving ways we can respond to this call throughout each waking moment of our lives. With this as our touchstone – performing acts of kindness on purpose with good intentions and an open heart – we may just arrive at the place where we permanently reside in the dwelling of the holy.