Here’s a small act of kindness that people can also try/replicate: I was in an unfamiliar city and needed to take public transportation/metro to my destination. I was at a stop that had schedules posted, but no employees. It was dark, nighttime, and I felt a little panicky. I obviously looked lost/out of my element. There was only one other person there. That man asked me if he could help. I told him where I wanted to go. He told me which train to take, which side of the tracks to stand on and which stop I would exit on. He saved me not only time but a lot of anxiety.
I am a big fan of the ripple effect - smile at people in the street, be proactive to those you dont know from whom you might receive nothing. Compliment someone if you think they look great, whatever their age (but not in a creepy sexist way please!)
Sometimes I think I have this constant grin on my face -but this is what makes a difference. Say hello to the person serving you at the til, the server in a restaurant - ask them about their day....give first it takes seconds.
If you get nothing in response - so what - youhave no idea what is happening in their life
I think it is also so important to remember to be kind to be the light to those we have real difficulties with - for whatever reason.
It is so much easier to have compassion for those of us who are like us who share values. Others - well the word the "other" is still a human being imperfect fearful anxious too.
I know I have to watch this in myself, that reactivity rather than responding to things creates greater heightened emotionality.
That is not the same as feeling things strongly, but a hypervigilant mindset. When you have experienced trauma or discrimination there is a danger of becoming the bully too - with all the dire consequences. Standing up to injustice is a must, we must not be afraid or cowered.
So be the light to those with whom you have disagreements - not collude not be a victim but with compassion . They might be right about somethings too - you might learn something too. Sometimes walking away is the kinder thing too.
Just stop reading the news and spend time with friends and family you love and trust. We are going through a particularly difficult time politically, and what’s so sad is we’ve been here before. The good news is that the country will survive and eventually get back to its senses, though it might take a while.
Take care of yourself, spend time with other kind people, and do your best to tune out the noise, and ignorance, and hate. Be the best person you can be and do your best to make those positive attributes and behaviors contagious!
I find kindness all the time in the little Substack community I am a part of.
When I lost one of my cats last September, people were there for me. When I lost a best friend in October, the same. And it goes both ways, I guess, trying to find words of comfort for Susie @ahillandi and her sheep and trees, Reda @onlymurdersintheinbox and others in the L.A. area, and, of course, the big loss last November. There are so many compassionate people here, leaving little comments, words of reassurance.
Of course, Robin and Robin, creating SmallStack and inviting us to join. Yes, I find kindeness all the time in my little Substack community!
The example of kindness I thought of was from last year. I was really struggling with some stuff but true to form, was keeping it pretty bottled up inside. I've never been a good sharer, though I'm working on it.
One of the things that got me through more than one day was a few different friends just sending me random memes, funny videos or pictures. Every time I'd get one it would brighten up my day, at least for a few minutes. They had no idea how much I needed it, which is what made it all the more special to me.
I started writing @handsonwritinginagermfactory 3 months after the death of my middle daughter. The kindness, the care, the concern this has generated in my life has been uplifting.
Oof. Just looking back on the past month I can see the deluge of kindness I’ve been experiencing. How when I went back to my heart-home so many people actively made time to come see me, to house me, to hug me, to help with the absurd gatherings I had planned.
I was so overwhelmed from traveling solo and having to relocate every couple of nights that I actively couldn’t see the outpouring of gentleness that was being directed my way, over and over. My best friend making time for my meltdowns. My friends scrambling to find me places to stay when I found out I was allergic to cats and couldn’t stay with my best friend.
How smoothly both gatherings I had set up worked because each and every person was a part of them running smoothly.
…so much kindness.
And from this perspective I can see it all, and sometimes when I’m in the midst of overwhelm and the world feels like it’s falling apart…I can’t see it, that my brain is looking for all the hurt. But I know that my surviving all of that was on account of the immense community care…
Sometimes it is so hard for me to see the kindness in the moment. During those bad weeks.
So here I am, looking back, and seeing it, and weeping at how lucky I was to be caught in the loving arms of so many people. And just feeling so grateful.
To me, true care is something that has always been in my life, but I have only recently developed the skills and trust to see it. Care is knowing that you can ask for help when you need it and you won't owe anything in return. Care is knowing that you're allowed to take as long as you need to heal and the person who cares for you won't grow impatient that you haven't healed yet. Care is being understood and not fearing that your words will be misunderstood and used against you. Care is being allowed to exist and embraced for existing imperfectly. I believe I have always had people in my life who showed me care. But it took one person to really sit with me, be patient with me, and guide me towards really seeing that care for what it was to understand that I didn't need to fear the love I am shown. It's not a trick. It's not a trap. It is care.
When I was sixteen, my next door neighbor, Julia, died suddenly from meningitis. She was seventeen and a classmate of my stepsister, but Julia and I clicked on a deeper level: we were both budding writers. She and I spent a lot of time together, composing poetry and sharing teenage secrets (and a pack of cigarettes no one else knew about). I was heartbroken when she died, and numb from shock.
My mother had been institutionalized after a diagnosis of schizophrenia when I was an infant. We visited her in the psychiatric hospital from time to time, but her hospital was several hours away from our home, so not too often. I wasn't ever sure she knew who I was on those visits. When she died, I was thirteen, and don't remember feeling anything beyond relief that she and our family were finally free from the ravages of her disease. My father remarried. I gained a stepmother and three stepsisters. We moved into a new home across town, where I transferred to a new school among kids I didn't know and tried to fit into a family I never felt I belonged in.
At Julia's funeral a couple of years later, I was quiet and withdrawn. Her parents were understandably distraught. A lot of their friends and family gathered at the funeral home, where it seemed no one knew what to say. There were a lot of tears and hugs, but I stood apart, not knowing what to do. I fled to the bathroom. My stepsister caught up to me just as I got through the door. She put her arms around me and said, "You haven't cried. You need to cry." The floodgates of self-control broke loose, and I sobbed in my sister's arms until her shirt was damp. I cried for Julia and those she left behind. I cried for my mother, what she and I both lost when she became ill. I cried because my sister cared enough to put her arms around me.
I've often thought this was the kindest thing anyone's ever done for me.
My father died unexpectedly 10 days before Christmas in 2024. In the following days, my family and I received an outpouring of support in the form of food, supplies, offers to run errands or babysit, and bereavement cards. On the day I returned to work in the hospital, I found a breakfast pastry, charcuterie plate, snacks, and a kind note from some of the amazing people I work with saying that they hoped those things made it easier to get through my days. The ability of people to just show up without asking what I needed was such a kindness. I’ll be paying it forward to others.
I think sometimes the kindest thing to do is just to sit in it together; to be present without fixing things. I wrote a piece about it back in September, inspired by a friend who shows up for me consistently in that way. No fixing things, no "look on the bright side". Just "thank you for telling me, I'm listening." It makes me feel seen and understood and helps me to be kinder to myself.
Kindness. I have the best spouse in the universe whenever I am struggling with the emotions and to do list and decision-making regarding my mom, who is 90 and has been living with Alzheimer’s for several years. My spouse always helps with the things that I don’t often have the bandwidth or skillset for. She has taken the time to clean out so much of the stuff in Mom’s apartment. She has called insurance companies when they are late paying for her care and of course they are almost always late. I’m so grateful for her being my person.
Thank you for this opportunity. Our burdens are divided when we share them. Our joys multiplied when we share them. I didn’t make that up, but I believe it strongly.
Great partners are such a blessing. My husband was so helpful after my dad died in December. He went to the cable company twice (including on New Year’s Day) to make sure the bill got paid and cable got transitioned over. He has stepped in to help my mom move things in her home. And he is the best dad to our son, giving me the time I need to process.
In many places which I visited travelling, I experienced kindness, hospitality and curiosity. It's incredible how much people want to share with a stranger their culture, and traditions and make someone feel at home. It happened to me recently when I was in Ecuador and a friend invited me to visit his hometown and his family.
I was asked to speak to a group home of those trying to get there lives together. I believe they touched me as much as I did them.
https://dianaadmire.substack.com/p/imposter-syndrome-speaking-experience?r=1f09tw
Here’s a small act of kindness that people can also try/replicate: I was in an unfamiliar city and needed to take public transportation/metro to my destination. I was at a stop that had schedules posted, but no employees. It was dark, nighttime, and I felt a little panicky. I obviously looked lost/out of my element. There was only one other person there. That man asked me if he could help. I told him where I wanted to go. He told me which train to take, which side of the tracks to stand on and which stop I would exit on. He saved me not only time but a lot of anxiety.
I am a big fan of the ripple effect - smile at people in the street, be proactive to those you dont know from whom you might receive nothing. Compliment someone if you think they look great, whatever their age (but not in a creepy sexist way please!)
Sometimes I think I have this constant grin on my face -but this is what makes a difference. Say hello to the person serving you at the til, the server in a restaurant - ask them about their day....give first it takes seconds.
If you get nothing in response - so what - youhave no idea what is happening in their life
I think it is also so important to remember to be kind to be the light to those we have real difficulties with - for whatever reason.
It is so much easier to have compassion for those of us who are like us who share values. Others - well the word the "other" is still a human being imperfect fearful anxious too.
I know I have to watch this in myself, that reactivity rather than responding to things creates greater heightened emotionality.
That is not the same as feeling things strongly, but a hypervigilant mindset. When you have experienced trauma or discrimination there is a danger of becoming the bully too - with all the dire consequences. Standing up to injustice is a must, we must not be afraid or cowered.
So be the light to those with whom you have disagreements - not collude not be a victim but with compassion . They might be right about somethings too - you might learn something too. Sometimes walking away is the kinder thing too.
Just stop reading the news and spend time with friends and family you love and trust. We are going through a particularly difficult time politically, and what’s so sad is we’ve been here before. The good news is that the country will survive and eventually get back to its senses, though it might take a while.
Take care of yourself, spend time with other kind people, and do your best to tune out the noise, and ignorance, and hate. Be the best person you can be and do your best to make those positive attributes and behaviors contagious!
I find kindness all the time in the little Substack community I am a part of.
When I lost one of my cats last September, people were there for me. When I lost a best friend in October, the same. And it goes both ways, I guess, trying to find words of comfort for Susie @ahillandi and her sheep and trees, Reda @onlymurdersintheinbox and others in the L.A. area, and, of course, the big loss last November. There are so many compassionate people here, leaving little comments, words of reassurance.
Of course, Robin and Robin, creating SmallStack and inviting us to join. Yes, I find kindeness all the time in my little Substack community!
The example of kindness I thought of was from last year. I was really struggling with some stuff but true to form, was keeping it pretty bottled up inside. I've never been a good sharer, though I'm working on it.
One of the things that got me through more than one day was a few different friends just sending me random memes, funny videos or pictures. Every time I'd get one it would brighten up my day, at least for a few minutes. They had no idea how much I needed it, which is what made it all the more special to me.
Sometimes it’s easier to accept those small gifts, too. I’m so glad your friends were there for you when you needed them, Rick.
I started writing @handsonwritinginagermfactory 3 months after the death of my middle daughter. The kindness, the care, the concern this has generated in my life has been uplifting.
A thanks to all.
Oof. Just looking back on the past month I can see the deluge of kindness I’ve been experiencing. How when I went back to my heart-home so many people actively made time to come see me, to house me, to hug me, to help with the absurd gatherings I had planned.
I was so overwhelmed from traveling solo and having to relocate every couple of nights that I actively couldn’t see the outpouring of gentleness that was being directed my way, over and over. My best friend making time for my meltdowns. My friends scrambling to find me places to stay when I found out I was allergic to cats and couldn’t stay with my best friend.
How smoothly both gatherings I had set up worked because each and every person was a part of them running smoothly.
…so much kindness.
And from this perspective I can see it all, and sometimes when I’m in the midst of overwhelm and the world feels like it’s falling apart…I can’t see it, that my brain is looking for all the hurt. But I know that my surviving all of that was on account of the immense community care…
Sometimes it is so hard for me to see the kindness in the moment. During those bad weeks.
So here I am, looking back, and seeing it, and weeping at how lucky I was to be caught in the loving arms of so many people. And just feeling so grateful.
Thank you for giving me this moment to reflect.
To me, true care is something that has always been in my life, but I have only recently developed the skills and trust to see it. Care is knowing that you can ask for help when you need it and you won't owe anything in return. Care is knowing that you're allowed to take as long as you need to heal and the person who cares for you won't grow impatient that you haven't healed yet. Care is being understood and not fearing that your words will be misunderstood and used against you. Care is being allowed to exist and embraced for existing imperfectly. I believe I have always had people in my life who showed me care. But it took one person to really sit with me, be patient with me, and guide me towards really seeing that care for what it was to understand that I didn't need to fear the love I am shown. It's not a trick. It's not a trap. It is care.
When I was sixteen, my next door neighbor, Julia, died suddenly from meningitis. She was seventeen and a classmate of my stepsister, but Julia and I clicked on a deeper level: we were both budding writers. She and I spent a lot of time together, composing poetry and sharing teenage secrets (and a pack of cigarettes no one else knew about). I was heartbroken when she died, and numb from shock.
My mother had been institutionalized after a diagnosis of schizophrenia when I was an infant. We visited her in the psychiatric hospital from time to time, but her hospital was several hours away from our home, so not too often. I wasn't ever sure she knew who I was on those visits. When she died, I was thirteen, and don't remember feeling anything beyond relief that she and our family were finally free from the ravages of her disease. My father remarried. I gained a stepmother and three stepsisters. We moved into a new home across town, where I transferred to a new school among kids I didn't know and tried to fit into a family I never felt I belonged in.
At Julia's funeral a couple of years later, I was quiet and withdrawn. Her parents were understandably distraught. A lot of their friends and family gathered at the funeral home, where it seemed no one knew what to say. There were a lot of tears and hugs, but I stood apart, not knowing what to do. I fled to the bathroom. My stepsister caught up to me just as I got through the door. She put her arms around me and said, "You haven't cried. You need to cry." The floodgates of self-control broke loose, and I sobbed in my sister's arms until her shirt was damp. I cried for Julia and those she left behind. I cried for my mother, what she and I both lost when she became ill. I cried because my sister cared enough to put her arms around me.
I've often thought this was the kindest thing anyone's ever done for me.
My father died unexpectedly 10 days before Christmas in 2024. In the following days, my family and I received an outpouring of support in the form of food, supplies, offers to run errands or babysit, and bereavement cards. On the day I returned to work in the hospital, I found a breakfast pastry, charcuterie plate, snacks, and a kind note from some of the amazing people I work with saying that they hoped those things made it easier to get through my days. The ability of people to just show up without asking what I needed was such a kindness. I’ll be paying it forward to others.
I wrote a bit about how to show up for people here in hopes that it might be helpful: https://humansleading.substack.com/p/lost-for-words-why-how-are-you-is
I think sometimes the kindest thing to do is just to sit in it together; to be present without fixing things. I wrote a piece about it back in September, inspired by a friend who shows up for me consistently in that way. No fixing things, no "look on the bright side". Just "thank you for telling me, I'm listening." It makes me feel seen and understood and helps me to be kinder to myself.
https://purposefulconnection.substack.com/p/lets-sit-in-it-together
I agree with you. Presence is everything. Not even words are necessary.
So true! Words aren’t necessary!
Kindness. I have the best spouse in the universe whenever I am struggling with the emotions and to do list and decision-making regarding my mom, who is 90 and has been living with Alzheimer’s for several years. My spouse always helps with the things that I don’t often have the bandwidth or skillset for. She has taken the time to clean out so much of the stuff in Mom’s apartment. She has called insurance companies when they are late paying for her care and of course they are almost always late. I’m so grateful for her being my person.
Thank you for this opportunity. Our burdens are divided when we share them. Our joys multiplied when we share them. I didn’t make that up, but I believe it strongly.
Great partners are such a blessing. My husband was so helpful after my dad died in December. He went to the cable company twice (including on New Year’s Day) to make sure the bill got paid and cable got transitioned over. He has stepped in to help my mom move things in her home. And he is the best dad to our son, giving me the time I need to process.
Extra points for dealing with anything cable related!!
In many places which I visited travelling, I experienced kindness, hospitality and curiosity. It's incredible how much people want to share with a stranger their culture, and traditions and make someone feel at home. It happened to me recently when I was in Ecuador and a friend invited me to visit his hometown and his family.
https://ionlytakepics.substack.com/p/ecuadorian-hospitality-in-jima?r=2843be
When a hotel/restaurant/public transportation worker greets me with a smile.
When I am at the doctor, and he takes the time and kindness to tell things in a simple and close way.
When a teacher patiently explains the same topic 20 times because it is not clear to us
Simple things that change your day