The Craving of Kindness

Last year I started dating again after a hiatus of more than four years. When I say dating, I went on a total of two dates with the same woman.

Entering the world of dating, you’ll ultimately get asked the following question:

What are you looking for in a partner?

My answer is simple: kindness.

In a world that appears to have gone downright crazy, kindness has become an all-too-necessary commodity. Personally, I believe that kindness is pretty much the answer to everything.

Like many of you, I have spent my fair share of time in relationships where kindness was sorely lacking — on both parts. Over the last five years as I’ve travelled far more extensively and lived in multiple communities and cultures, I’ve realized how precious kindness actually is and I’ve started to crave it.

The pandemic showed, in equal measures, the power of kindness as well as the destruction caused by lack thereof.

As Jessica Wildfire writes:

I see people claiming to care about our mental health, when they’re actually causing us great harm. I see them talk about hope and optimism, and yet they do nothing but pitch fits when anyone asks them to take on the slightest inconvenience for a greater good.

The hissy fit over wearing a mask blew my mind. All we were being asked to do was to care for other souls as the world tried to get through an unprecedented global pandemic. What’s the big deal?

I also saw kindness reach an extraordinary level throughout the pandemic. At the beginning, there were concerts to raise money for people who had lost their jobs due to Covid-19. People created free services for the elderly and immunocompromised to deliver their groceries— God knows the big supermarkets with the big bank accounts weren’t going to do it.

Masks were made and distributed, video calls were commonplace to help the isolated feel less lonely, and my local nursing home asked people to become pen-pals with the residents so that they had someone to communicate with during the restrictions.

Whilst some of this kindness still remains post-pandemic, much of it has dissipated as greedy capitalists go all-in on reducing living standards around the world for higher profits.

But I digress.

For me, kindness is a non-negotiable when it comes to a life partner and I hold myself to the same standard.

For far too many years, I found myself in relationships where I was expected to play the role of the rock, the hero, and even the saviour as I attempted to mollify my inner rescuer. Whilst I’m a strong woman who has worn these badges well, I also need someone to rely on, someone to help push me through the tough times with grace and compassion.

Whilst true equality is not possible in any given moment, there should be a gentle ebb and flow of effort from both partners. Some days I give more and on others, you do, but on all days kindness should prevail.

Life is not an easy ride.

Comparative Suffering, feeling the need to see one’s suffering in light of other people’s pain, seems to have become a global poker game.

You show your hand of difficulties and I bet I can beat it!

There will always be someone who has it worse than us but that doesn’t diminish what we are going through. Pain is relative to life experience and history. Some have been through horrific experiences and in comparison to another’s pain may look incomparable — but it’s not. The challenges we face are new to each and every one of us and we, mostly, do the best we can to get through them.

What looks big to you may look small to me but I’m not going to diminish what you’re going through because it’s big to you!

Kindness in speech and action was not in abundance where I grew up, it was a dog-eat-dog culture and aggressive speech was the norm. There was, however, one shining light of compassion in my world as a child — my Godmother — the litmus test for kindness as far as I’m concerned.

I’ve thought a lot about her lately as my craving for kindness has grown. She was a remarkable woman. Whilst I doubt I will ever reach her echelons of gentleness and soulful beauty, mainly due to the conditioning I’m still trying to “uncondition,” I’m nevertheless on a mission to be as kind as I can.

I try to surround myself with kind people wherever I go. If someone shows me that they are not able to speak with kindness (I usually give people more chances than I should), I walk away.

I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again.

It’s not that I think I’m special and deserve all the kindness in the world, it’s that I don’t want to be around anger and hostility anymore. I’m not interested in being someone’s emotional punching bag. I work daily to readjust my thinking as I try to be as kind and tolerant as I can be… and believe me there are days when I fail miserably.

Whilst it may feel good to hit back when a nasty comment comes our way, vindicating ourselves and “putting them in their place,” this type of energetic exchange feels awful running through my body and psyche, and it sits with me for days, sometimes weeks, depending on how hostile the interaction was.

We never know what’s going on in the lives of the people we encounter.

That supermarket clerk who frowned at you might have lost a parent, that bus driver who barely looked at you when you greeted him might have been given notice on his home, that nurse who didn’t acknowledge your pain sufficiently might have just ended a relationship and is struggling to put everyone else’s needs first.

None of us have any idea what others are going through so we need to be kind.

Acknowledging someone else’s pain will never diminish our own. And to be honest, why do we want to revel in our pain?

Pain is meant to be a temporary state — something we heal from. I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather spend my mental and energetic time in happiness and joy than in pain.

It is this desire that has made kindness become a craving for me.

The moments where I feel at my personal best are when kindness has reigned supreme. This is where I wish to dwell.

Kindness has become my language of love.

Please feel free to buy me a coffee if you like what you read.