Wednesday 11 January 2017

On Kindness 1

Being kind sometimes is the hardest thing you can do in your day.  It is also often the most important and the most necessary.  I sometimes say to people that there are no guarantees in life.  It is really a random process and there is no telling that any of us is going to live out our entire fourscore years plus, or that we will last to a ripe old age without having to reckon with some problems or crisis.  It's built into the fabric of life.  There are so many factors at play that make life horrible, short and nasty for so many people that I can't even go into it here.  Blame what you want: human selfishness, human greed, disease, crime, war, famine, bankruptcy, poverty, prison, a terminal illness... and yes, a lot of these things are brought on by human selfishness and greed.  Hey, if we weren't selfish and greedy we would probably be living in a world that is disaster free, but for earthquakes and typhoons, but not the mega kind brought on by global warming, or should I say, human selfishness and greed?

Some days, things can get so difficult that the only way I can show kindness to others is by default of being unkind to them.  I was asked today, as usual, by several different homeless individuals for money.  I don't give often, citing as an excuse that funds are tight with me, as they often are.  On the other hand, I have a roof over my head, plenty of good food to eat, money in the bank, and means, if somewhat modest means, to travel every year.  And I want to be sure that through my very scant earnings that I can continue to enjoy a decent standard of life.  So, I don't give a lot.  Sometimes a bit here or there, and I try not to tell them what to spend it on, though my other reason for not giving often is not knowing if it's going to go up someone's nose, into their veins or up in smoke.  On the other hand, given the dreadful and tangled roots of addiction: child abuse, poverty, mental illness, among others, I just don't feel right about judging someone for having an addiction.  I also work with people who struggle with addictions, but I'm still in no hurry to give money away, that I have earned working bloody hard at giving support to people whose money often goes up their nose, into their veins or up in smoke, just so that it can go up someone else's nose, into their veins or up in smoke.  I also try to donate money to the food bank.

As for public civility, which is often for me the default mode for kindness?  Gentle Reader, let me tell you about my day today.  Following having to turn down a couple of panhandlers this morning I got on the Skytrain to meet with my first client of the day in a coffee shop.  Our meeting went much better than expected and I was taking great care to be extra kind to him.  Yes, of course I am getting paid for being kind, but in this kind of work you have to be the real goods, no matter how well or poorly you're getting paid, because in my profession you can only fake compassion for so long before you get found out and I have been in this job for almost thirteen years and I still don't have to fake it.  Following our meeting I had extra time off.  In a coffee shop I enjoy I sat for what I hoped would be a tranquil hour and a bit with my sketchbook.  A rather troubled looking young woman decided she wanted to sit in the chair next to me, so I had to move my knapsack.  I did not want a stranger sitting close to me, but I gave her the chair anyway.  When I found that I couldn't put my knapsack anywhere else but on the floor (after having bedbugs but once I do not want to do anything to put myself at risk again!) I moved to a table in another part of the café.  Then, a young woman with rather a surly, rich entitled look got on her phone and in a loud voice serenaded everyone in the café in her purest vocal fry, with her mediocrities for over an hour.  Several times I had to stop myself from asking her, however nicely, to shut up or at least lower her voice a little.  I also laboured valiantly to squelch any desire to make a sarcastic or wounding comment to her afterward.  I felt too paralyzed to be kind, but I did just succeed in not being unkind.

After work I was in a café I've never visited before, at the request of a friend who is soon returning to his native Colombia.  I arrived twenty minutes early, so I waited at a table by the window with my sketchbook.  There is a counter that runs right by the window with stools.  About half an hour later a touristy looking family, Australian I think, came in, mom and dad with three kids in tow.  They all decided to sit at the counter, right next to me, where I was really needing space and quiet time.  They, especially the kids, seemed to like my art and I felt too full of resentment and felt also too violated to want to give them the time of day.  I then made every effort to remind myself that I was in a public space and that they could sit wherever they wanted to, plus, that as parents travelling with their three young kids, they must be already under their share of stress.  The only kindness I felt able to express was in saying absolutely nothing (I was too pissed-off about being stood up by my friend) and just understanding that they were trying to get through their day.  And they did like my art.

While on my way back from work I did offer my seat on the train to either of two older people but they said they were fine and appeared to be okay standing.

I know I could have done better today, but I didn't do worse and tomorrow's another day.

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