The power of (un)kindness
and a story of self(ish|less)ness
I write this to share experiences I've had. It is not meant to inspire pity, nor is it mean to garner praise. My purpose here is to express a feeling, and a way of thinking about the world. My hope is to get you to see the effects of being caring, and the impact of not being careful.
I don’t remember how long this has sat in my drafts exactly, but medium says it’s sat around for 3 years.
I’m in a better place now. I feel OK to share it.
First, please watch this video on spreading kindness. Pay particular attention to the metaphor about how it shines, glows, and spreads like light.
Unkindness leaves a mark.
Unwavering, Unconditional, Unwarranted, Unnecessary. Unkind.
When I’m alone, and sad, I can still hear that voice. It hurts so very much sometimes.
Memories of those words are a darkness. A violent storm cloud that takes up the entire horizon of my mind.
Feeling like I’m a failure, a loser, a useless piece of shit that doesn't deserve to be on this earth. It’s rain a piercing cold that chills my heart and leaves me breathless, nearly doubled over in pain.
It is agony. I literally feel this as pain: my psyché made manifest.
I know better, but those feelings don’t give a damn. My only defense is to amuse myself at these feelings, to take them out of myself and look at them for what they are: unwanted memories that I simply have to ignore.
The best defense I have is an umbrella to keep the rain off of my shoulders, but even that is not good enough to keep away the winds of shame. I may stay dry, but I still feel the bite of cold.
Our memories fail us.
Why can’t kindness be remembered just as vibrantly? Where are the memories that bring the warm glow of the sun?
Every negative thing you hear helps build the storm in your psyché that prevents you from feeling the warmth of others. Every word becomes a raindrop, and every accusation becomes a gust of wind.
Like the wings of a thousand small butterflies, chaos and thunderstorms ensue. As the pressure system changes, the warmth of the sun is blocked out. You are trapped in an endless thunderstorm where the whole world looks bleak, and all you can do is scream at the rain.
Your entire reason for trying in this world is ripped away from you. You are left being cold, dry, and lonely in the middle of nowhere, and this is a place you really don’t want to be.
No one is born with an umbrella.
We shun strangers because if we don’t care about them, they can’t hurt us like we were hurt before. Like Confucian monkeys, we cover our eyes to ignore the storm, and close our ears off from the voices, and are afraid to speak lest we be spoken to.
Hatred taints kindness in the eye of the observer. We do not see them opening their arms to give a warming hug. We do not hear their attempts at soothing. We do not see them holding the umbrella. We recede into the pain, and the cold.
Its a horrible cycle.
It perpetuates itself. Without seeing the reality of others, we can only project what we believe. When all we hear is thunderstorms, and all we feel is cold, there is no sun for us to share.
The inability to see kindness from others makes it hard to show kindness back. You’re cold demeanor ends up driving others away, you become the rain you are trying to avoid. To overcome this, you must become vulnerable. To let people in you have to bash your head into that wall you’ve built up until it crumbles away, and you are left bloody and beaten.
Connecting with people helps breaks through this wall from the other side. Everyone here reading this is helping break through this wall.
Thank you for your kindness. Thank you for being on the other side of the wall, ready to give me a hug when it is finally gone.
