Hello dear friend. And thank you for taking a moment to join me in this kindness series. Here we are on week three, and that means we’ve likely had some opportunity to watch how kind we can be… and how we falter.
This is the gift of practice.
To continue with all things worthwhile, we face some discomfort. Whether we want to grow muscles, memory, or meaning, it’s always a matter of return. The third time may be the charm but the 30th is the magic. The 300th is the miracle. Backing away is always easier, and, indeed, is well-supported by the safety of the status quo.
So, okay, practice is hard. It requires intention, commitment, concentration, observation, resilience, and grace. It tumbles us and leaves us sore.
Practice is also gratifying. As we explore who we can become, we discover who we are.
Underlying all the virtues discussed last week is some form of practice. Our thoughtful choice to repeat positive behaviors seems a requisite part of our human nature— we innovate, evolve, progress because we practice.
So, congratulations. You, my friend, like me and everyone we know, are a work in progress. Long may we learn.
Today, let’s consider why practice is often abandoned.
Every morning before I started my walk on the camino primitivo, I read the book of James. I was walking toward his tomb; it seemed right he might walk with me.
Unconfirmed catholic here. The morning of my flight to Spain, I didn’t know apostle James had a book in the Bible. But, in a lovely bit of divine encouragement, the reading at mass, an hour before I went to the airport, came from James. The homily honed in on it. And I said thank you to the Creator and invited James to guide me.
His book starts strong…
Greetings.
Consider it a joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you fall into diverse temptations because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.
James is worth a read. I’ll share more in another post. For now, one more gem casting light on practice:
Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says.
In other words, it’s not enough to have an intellectual understanding of the wisdom out there. Wisdom must be applied. Our perseverance delivers us from concept to realization.
Now for the hard part… our perseverance often falters when we’re upset. It doesn’t really matter the source of our upset, nor does it matter the form of our upset. When we feel too low or too agitated, disgusted or greedy, anxious or depressed, our practice meets the hurdle of our suffering. Getting over it requires a boost.
How do we give ourselves the uplift we need to be kind when we’re feeling ick?
We’ve been there. Someone says something we just don’t like, something happens that makes us mad. We know we’re meant to be kind; we don’t want to be kind. We may even debate with ourselves. Something like, ‘That person was rude. He doesn’t deserve my kindness. I’m right to be rude. I should be rude because I’m in the right.’
How often do we choose being right over being kind?
Well, that’s okay. It happens. We feel it. We might pause and consider how we feel it when we’re less than friendly to someone else. Notice it. The way we behave impacts us emotionally and at the cellular level.
To be unkind takes a toll. Realizing its impact might help us choose a different way. Our unkindness is contagious and leads to more unkindness… and our impulse to protect against it. Conversely, our kindness spreads… and creates trust and connection beyond our understanding.
Our practice builds on last week’s query… how do we come home to ourselves as friends so we can become friendly with others? Today, how do we offer kindness when someone or something disrupts our peaceful home?
It can happen in so many ways: from the trivial— a horn honking, a dog barking— to the serious— a betrayal, an injury, a loss. When our peace turns tumultuous, we tend to point a finger. It’s only a moment before our tongues let the culprit know they’ve been indicted. It’s your fault!
So how do we tame our tongues and find that boost beyond the upset?
We treat everyone and everything like God.
In India, a common greeting is namaskar. In yoga studios, folks might say the more casual namaste. Used for hello, it gathers all the potency of a holy moment. The encounter may be fleeting but two soul paths are intersecting. What a blessing. The word acknowledges the presence of the divine in the fellow traveler— and the speaker’s reverence for it. Why? To humbly praise whoever is before us: I honor the sacred light in you.
In other words, we make ourselves smaller in the presence of God.
Imagine. What happens if we remember the divine nature of the girl honking the horn or the dog barking? What happens if we revere the divinity of the barking dog? Can we be a little smaller?
In his work, I And Thou, philosopher Martin Buber describes our potential salvation from alienation… see the THOU in all. Another awesome, more accessible teacher named Jesus commanded that we ‘love one another,’ as he loves us. Thomas Merton, another Jesus superfan, suggests, ‘When you see God in everyone, then they see God in you.’
So, offer the namaskar. Assign the thou. See God in everyone.
Love all.
The recipe to boost kindness— in good times and bad— is simple but takes practice.
In the guided meditation above, we’ll see what happens when we salute the divine around us. We’ll make note of our body’s response, our mind’s engagement, and our heart’s pleasure. We’ll check out where we might place a few more thou’s, and where our reverence is strong.
For your contemplation, sit with the following questions:
What changes when I see someone as a Thou?
How do I approach the divine?
As always, thank you for your presence. I honor the light in you. I love you! Namaskar.
If this is helpful or interesting to you, please pass along to a friend. Lord knows, we all thrive with a good word from someone we love. And, please consider sharing your thoughts in the comments. We learn together.
I appreciate you and all the ways you contribute your love.
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