Radical Kindness

I had the loveliest experience in our local shopping centre last week.  It was one of those visits where you rush in and out.  I’d rushed in, done what I needed to do, grabbed a coffee and was on my way back to my car when I noticed a young mum crouched down next to her child’s stroller (or pushchair if you’re in the UK).  She was talking softly to her toddler who was clearly distressed about something.  I stopped, and not wanting anyone to think I was a stalker, I moved behind one of those advertising electronic boards to watch what happened next.  Having worked with parents and children for my entire career, when things like this happen I notice, and I wanted to give her a little word of encouragement.  She continued talking quietly with him and at one point placed her hand on his cheek.  It was a beautiful “being with” moment.

When she stood up I walked over to her, apologised for interrupting, explained I was a psychologist who worked with parents, not a weirdo stalker woman and I just wanted to tell her she was doing such a good job as a parent.  My plan was then to leave her to whatever she was doing but she stopped me.  She asked me what she was doing that I noticed and prompted me to pause.  I told her she had got down to her child’s level, was looking at him and even though I couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying it was clear that she was soothing him, talking about his emotions and helping him manage whatever was going on for him.

She looked at me with tears in her eyes, said thank you and explained that her little boy had been diagnosed with a developmental delay and she wanted to make sure he got through his childhood and into adulthood ok; confident that there isn’t anything wrong with him and that he’s as worthy and valuable as anybody else.  She told me that today had been a particularly difficult day for her, so to hear my encouragement was perfect timing.  I didn’t actually cry but there was certainly some mist mixed up with my contact lenses.  She had a second child with her who was about one and she said now she’s really starting to see the difference in what her second child is doing that her first child didn’t at the same age.

We ended up having a long chat about all sorts of things to do with parenting, the NDIS, OTs and other allied health agencies.  Whilst we were chatting, her son was very taken with my red nail polish and my rings.  He got very excited at one point and was very loud with his verbalising of that excitement, which mum was clearly uncomfortable about, so I bent down (he had hold of my hand so I wasn’t going anywhere).  Quietly and kindly I asked him to use his inside voice, whilst indicating with my other hand and my face.  He continued quietly, we carried on chatting, he got loud again, I smiled and indicated with my hand and facial expression for him to bring down the volume and he responded.  Mum was astounded, she said he never quietens down for anyone else.  I hasten to add that I didn’t care if he yelled the roof off, it was only because mum looked uncomfortable about it that I intervened.  

Of course I couldn’t leave without telling her that I thought she would love the Circle of Security Parenting Program and gave her the contact details for my former team, who are, seriously without any bias, the most skilled specialist parenting team in the country.

All I did was see a moment and make the time to be kind to a mum who was doing a brilliant job.  I had no idea of the complexities of her life but it was one of those moments that could so easily have been missed.

I was on the receiving end of a similar kindness a few days later.  I had decided to adventure to the same shopping centre but this time using Ruby (my exceptionally flash Omeo wheelchair - or Ferrari) rather than driving.  It’s about 15 minutes away in a car, involves the worst pavements known to mankind and a very busy road.  Nevertheless I was up for the challenge.  I was about 5 minutes away from the centre and decided to cross the very busy road at a pedestrian crossing rather than trying to navigate the major intersection.  The lights were red, all the cars had stopped, I crossed the road, got to the other side and was faced with the steepest incline on a pavement I’d ever seen, the very narrow pavement at the top was covered with caked-on mud that had slipped down from the garden behind the hedge and to top it off there was a telephone pole bang in the middle of the pavement at the top of the incline.  

I hesitated and looked around for an alternate route.  Nothing, except traversing back across the road with the lights about to change.  Nope, that was not going to work and was seriously going to risk my wellbeing by being hit at speed by a car zooming round the corner and up the road.  I decided there was nothing for it but to take a deep breath and very carefully attempt the ramp.  I got to the top and tried to turn but the telephone pole just didn’t give me enough room and of course the pavement and the grass verge weren’t at the same height so Ruby and I tipped over right into the path of the oncoming traffic at exactly the same moment the lights turned green.

Fortunately the driver of the first car saw what had happened before pressing down on his accelerator.  He jumped out of his car to help as a woman in the second lane drove past, saw what had happened and pulled over as well.  At this point I feel it’s important to let you know that both Ruby and I were completely unscathed.  I was also probably far less shocked than the man and woman who had stopped because I was at least prepared that it might happen.  They helped Ruby and I right ourselves and as they did so they saw the state of the ramp and pavement and realised I had not randomly decided to attempt a risky Cirque de Soleil manoeuvre in the middle of the road for no apparent reason.  They then decided, exceptionally kindly, to form a barrier between me and the rest of the traffic by driving in front of and behind me until I could find a suitable pavement access point.  I feel very confident that both of these people will never forget their intervention, just as I won’t forget my conversation with the young mum a few days prior.

These two incidents got me thinking about kindness and the impact it has on both the giver and receiver.  In the same week, various media published the results of the United Nations World Happiness report, announcing for the eighth year in a row, that Finland is the happiest nation on earth.  Australia comes in at 11, the UK is 23 closely followed by the US at 24.  Afghanistan has the lowest score on the Happiness scale. So how is the UN able to assess happiness so confidently and why on earth would they bother?  If you check out their website here you’ll soon find out.

Happiness is inextricably linked with individual and community wellbeing.  Scoring well on the Global Happiness is an indication of the health of the country.  What decades of research has demonstrated is that happiness is linked with benevolent acts, in other words kindness. When someone takes a moment to be kind, it impacts both the giver and the receiver.  According to the research they share in an experience of close connection, choice and clear positive impact.  As someone who understands the interplay between actions and neurology, I can immediately understand the increase in specific brain chemicals often referred to as DOSE; Dopamine, Oxytocin, Serotonin and Endorphins.  I talk more about these brain or neuro chemicals in my book Bugger, Bugger, Shit:my quest for resilience.  The increase in these chemicals all link into well-being.  What’s interesting is that the positive impacts were experienced by both the giver and the receiver.  Something I certainly experienced when I stopped to encourage the young mum in the shopping centre.  I’m confident that if you think back to similar situations you’ve been in, you will agree.

Around the time of these two incidents I facilitated a training session with a group of volunteers.  The group was very diverse; culturally, gender, age and life experience.  The majority of people in the room had been volunteering for years and were clearly highly committed to the work they were doing.  Some were delivering meals on wheels, some were volunteering in admin roles, some were supporting people with disabilities.  The single common factor was the fulfillment that they received in their volunteering role.  Their responses were all completely genuine, they weren't volunteering to “look good” or out of any paternalistic motives.  It was because they genuinely wanted to help and to do something more meaningful than the general mouse-wheel that our lives can often feel like.

I had a conversation with someone many years ago, that I’ve never forgotten.  He was expressing his deep discontent with the concept of volunteering.  He felt that if someone is doing a job, they should be paid for it.  What he completely missed was the simple joy of demonstrating kindness.  Of not being paid, of not “having” to do something because it’s expected of them.  I’m not saying that volunteers don’t have accountabilities and have to work within a framework (indeed the training I was facilitating was about boundaries and ethical conduct) but people who volunteer choose what they do, how much they do and when they do it.  I think the single most common comment I hear from people who volunteer is that they receive much more than they give.

Why have I chosen to talk about kindness in this blog post?  I think it’s clear to everyone that the world seems to be at a crossroads right now.  There are multiple international conflicts happening, governments are waging war on their own citizens.  Actually invading and threatening to invade allied countries.  In Sydney just prior to Christmas we experienced a horrific act of terror.  If you feel overwhelmed by it all it’s no wonder.  It is overwhelming.  There is no way to minimise what is going on right now or to hide from it or find some silver lining in it.  Whether we like it or not, we have no choice really than to engage with it.  What we do have a choice about is how we engage with it.  We can choose to get angry, we can choose to bury our heads, we can choose a side, we can choose to engage in ridiculous arguments on social media with people we don’t know. Or we can choose kindness.  

Kindness isn’t weak or wishy washy.  Choosing kindness in the world we are currently living in, is a radical act of courage and of taking back our power.  How does one person being kind to a woman with a toddler, or someone being kind to a person who has fallen out of their wheelchair make any difference in the world right now?  Not a lot if I’m honest.  According to the research it will make the two of us feel better for a while.  But what if that little interaction, this blog post for example, lit a spark in another person?  Prompted them to open their eyes to what is in front of them?  Prompted them to do something about it, however small or seemingly insignificant.

Kindness means speaking truth and acting with integrity.  Millions of people in the US right now are doing that.  They are risking their lives to document the truth.  The citizens and journalists in Gaza and the Ukraine are doing the same.  Describing what they are doing as kindness seems to be such a trivial word but it is only kindness, strength and wisdom working together, that will change the world.

Please, as always, share away and write your comments below.  Let’s get the conversation moving.

With Kindness

Angharad