I’m just sayin’ … honesty isn’t always kind

“Today I bent the truth to be kind, and I have no regret, for I am far surer of what is kind than I am of what is true.” (Robert Brault)

Attribution: Donna Cameron“I’m just saying this for your own good.”

“Don’t be so thin-skinned. I’m just telling it like it is.”

“Hey, I call it like I see it.”

“Jeesh, you’re so touchy!”

These phrases are often used to justify saying hurtful things. Sometimes the speaker may really believe that the listener needs to hear his unvarnished opinion about the poor sap’s looks, abilities, opinions, or prospects.

Speaking on behalf of poor saps everywhere, we don’t. We don’t need someone to tell us all the things that are wrong with us or all the things we don’t do as well as we should. That’s what that persistent little voice in our own head does—and it doesn’t need any help.

There are things that need to be said and things that don’t need to be said. If we pause to think before we speak, we generally know the difference.

“You’d be so much prettier if you’d just lose fifteen pounds,” doesn’t need to be said—ever.

“You might want to get that spinach off your front tooth before you make your presentation,” needs to be said. Thank you!

“The other kids in your class certainly have more artistic ability than you do,” doesn’t need to be said, even if it’s abundantly clear to everyone but your eight-year-old.

I don’t advocate lying. I was raised in a home where honesty was valued and I consider honesty to be one of the most important characteristics of good people. That being said, I believe there are times when telling the truth may not be the best course of action. And being able to discern the appropriate time for truth-telling and the appropriate time for silence or even a downright lie is another important characteristic of good people…certainly of kind ones.

Some lies are obvious, some a bit more subtle.

To the question, “Honey, does this dress make me look fat?” any spouse who answers that with anything but, “You look gorgeous!” or a similarly reassuring exclamatory statement really hasn’t thought through the business of being married.

“It’s perfect! Thank you so much!” in response to an ugly, impractical, or totally preposterous gift is always a wise response, even if it’s a whopper of a lie. Would you really rather hurt the giver’s feelings and then live with the regret of having done so? Receiving graciously—even when the gift is unwanted—is one of the kindest behaviors we can learn.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking.” There are times—and we usually know when they are—when telling an acquaintance about our persistent rash, impending colonoscopy, or chronic foot fungus is entirely unnecessary. The depth of the relationship is a good gauge of how much detail to provide when someone asks the innocuous and automatic question, “How are you?”

If you’re contemplating telling a lie, think about your motive behind it:

Are you lying to make yourself appear to be something that you are not—smarter, stronger, more successful or more interesting? Think again, and exercise your courage muscles. You’re fine exactly as you are—why pretend to be something that you’re not? Would you rather be authentic or an imposter? Would you rather people liked and respected you for who you really are, or because they think you’re something that you’re not? Besides, when you deceive others you must remember the story you fabricated—otherwise you are likely to get caught in your lie later—and you’ll either feel foolish or have to come up with more lies. It’s not worth it.

Are you lying to make a sale, deflect blame, get recognized, or advance your career? No matter how innocuous the lie may seem, your trustworthiness and integrity are at stake here—even if you’re the only one who knows that. Are they worth tarnishing for anything?  I recently came upon a quote by Ryan Freitas that sums it up pretty well: “Your reputation is more important than your paycheck, and your integrity is worth more than your career.”

Are you lying to spare someone’s feelings? Under these circumstances, lying may be both acceptable and desirable. Add another question: is anyone harmed … if I tell my work colleague that her new hair style is great when, in fact, my first thought was that she looks like a radish on a stick?

Other questions to consider:

  • If I were in his/her position, would I want the truth or a gentle lie? or
  • Which response best serves kindness: the truth, a considerate lie, or silence?

My sister and I still commiserate (it’s cheaper than therapy) over our mother’s “truth-telling” to us as children: to Kim that her smile showed too much of her teeth and gums—causing my sister for decades to cover her mouth when she smiled or laughed, rather than display her genuine delight; and to me that I could always have a nose-job if my nose got any bigger. Until my mother mentioned it, I had been totally unaware that my proboscis was anything less than perfect. Thanks, Mom! Fortunately, my husband thinks my patrician nose is beautiful.

It seems to me that another consideration of whether to tell the truth or to dissemble is whether you can make a contribution to the outcome.

If your colleague has already gotten the haircut, or your spouse has already bought and worn the loud Hawaiian shirt, then little is served by telling them what you really think. But if they ask you in advance how you think they would look with a radical ‘do, or wearing a bright yellow shirt with orange and purple parrots, a diplomatic truth might help them make a different decision.

Similarly, we don’t need to be the people who point out the typo, criticize the amount of cumin in the soup, or correct a stranger’s mispronunciation. If someone asks for my input, I’ll gladly give it—unless it appears that they really just want support and kudos—then I’ll give those. I’ve found as I’ve gotten older that I’ve also gotten quieter. I don’t need to point out somebody else’s foibles and failures. I’ve got plenty of my own.

But my nose, fortunately, is quite perfect.

“If you have to choose between being kind and being right, choose being kind and you will always be right.” (Anonymous)

Ever Onward, Billy Strayhorn…

“I think everything should happen at halfway to dawn. That’s when all the heads of government should meet. I think everybody would fall in love.” (Billy Strayhorn)

“Billy Strayhorn was always the most unselfish, the most patient, and the most imperturbable, no matter how dark the day. I am indebted to him for so much of my courage….” (Duke Ellington) Photo: Billy Strayhorn circa 1947; William P. Gottlieb Library of Congress Collection, public domain.

“Billy Strayhorn was always the most unselfish, the most patient, and the most imperturbable, no matter how dark the day….” (Duke Ellington) Photo: Billy Strayhorn circa 1947; William P. Gottlieb Library of Congress Collection, public domain.

I hope you’ll indulge me as I do something a bit different for today’s post. It’s still about kindness—one of the kindest people who ever lived—but it’s also a celebration of a life, and of music that will endure for generations.

When I was about 14, I heard a song that knocked my socks off—and all these years later (a lot of years), it still does. Lush Life is, in my inexpert opinion, the best jazz ballad ever written. The tune is elegant, the lyrics are both dexterous and wistful, and the rhyme is as adroit as any you’ll ever hear. I’m not alone in my estimation of Lush Life. You’ll find it at the top of many lists of the best jazz songs ever. Music historian Ted Gioia referred to Lush Life as his favorite song from the 20th century: “a perfect composition…one in which the melodic phrases, harmonies, and poetic sentiments are each unconventional yet sublime.” Tenor saxophonist Joe Henderson called Lush Life “the most beautiful tune ever written.”

The composer of this song—music and lyrics—was the incomparable Billy Strayhorn, and this month we celebrate the 100th anniversary of his birth. It’s likely to be overshadowed by the 100th anniversary—less than two weeks later—of the birth of a much more famous musician: Frank Sinatra (who, incidentally, agreed that Lush Life was one of the most perfect songs ever written).

But give me Billy any day. In fact, give me Billy every day. In addition to being one of the most talented composers and musicians who ever lived, he was extraordinarily kind. It may have been his kindness and self-effacement that prevented him from becoming as famous as Sinatra or any of the truly celebrated musicians of his day. He just didn’t care all that much for fame, and he only wanted to compose, play the piano, and work with other great musicians. Sadly, he also died much too soon, at age 51 from esophageal cancer.

If you can’t place the song, check out a few of the greats who have performed it. The very best is the 1963 recording by Johnny Hartman with John Coltrane (one of the best jazz records ever!). Sarah Vaughan, Nancy Wilson, Andy Bey, Chet Baker, and countless others also sing Lush Life, including a lovely film version by Queen Latifah. Did I mention that Billy Strayhorn was only 17 when he wrote this very sophisticated and world-weary song?

If you know of Strayhorn at all, it’s probably because he was Duke Ellington’s musical partner and collaborator from 1939 to Billy’s death in 1967. Many of the songs and albums attributed to Ellington—who was certainly a genius in his own right—were written by or written with Billy Strayhorn, often without credit to Strayhorn. Theirs was a synergistic relationship: Ellington was the extrovert, Billy the introvert. Ellington sought the limelight, Strayhorn prized his privacy. They knew each other’s musical minds inside and out.

Some of Duke Ellington’s most famous songs were by Strayhorn. Take the A Train—the song that became the Ellington band’s theme-song was composed by Strayhorn from subway directions Ellington gave Billy to Duke’s home in Harlem. Satin Doll, considered Ellington’s most recognized song, was also among the estimated 500 songs Strayhorn wrote alone or with Duke. Their versatility extended to stage shows, movie soundtracks, sacred music, and even a celebrated version of The Nutcracker Suite. Often even they weren’t sure who wrote what parts—that’s how seamlessly they collaborated.

If you like jazz, there are numerous songs you’d recognize that are Strayhorn compositions: Chelsea Bridge, Lotus Blossom, Something to Live For, Passion Flower…. Strayhorn’s roots were in classical music—you can hear it in many of his compositions—he originally intended to be a classical concert pianist … until he heard the likes of Art Tatum, Teddy Wilson, and Duke Ellington. But he carried his classical training with him when he turned to jazz.

Strayhorn’s actual 100th birth-date is November 29. I’m posting this now in hopes that you live in an area where you might have access to some of the Strayhorn centenary concerts. There will be three here in the Seattle area, performed by the Seattle Repertory Jazz Orchestra on November 7 (Seattle), November 8 (Kirkland), and November 9 (Edmonds). Oh, yes, we’re going!

There will also be celebrations in New York, Chicago, New Jersey, Philadelphia, Pittsburgh (where Strayhorn was born), New Orleans, Portland, OR, London, Paris, Italy, and undoubtedly other places.

David Hajdu, author of the definitive and completely absorbing biography of Strayhorn, aptly titled Lush Life, is going to be in Seattle during our Strayhorn celebration. Perhaps he’ll be in other cities later in the month. I recommend his book to anyone who’d like to know more about this remarkable man. I can’t possibly do him justice in a single blog post.

Duke Ellington and his band recorded a tribute album entitled “And His Mother Called Him Bill only three months after Strayhorn’s death. It is considered one of the very best Ellington recordings, and the playing by saxophonist Johnny Hodges—a good friend for whom Strayhorn wrote and arranged many songs—is sublime.

Beyond being a musical genius, Billy Strayhorn was supremely kind and generous. He coached countless musicians to improve their craft and often wrote music just for them to maximize their talents. As an openly gay African-American in the mid-twentieth century, he faced plenty of prejudice, yet always maintained his gracious demeanor and optimism. “Ever up and onward” was his catch-phrase. He was committed to the civil rights movement and a close friend and confidant of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. He viewed everyone equally and found something to appreciate in everyone he met—from a waitress in a diner to the Queen of England. He did not have a bad word to say about anyone. Some of Billy’s friends referred to him as “Buddha,” in recognition of his ability to be completely present with everyone he encountered.

In his eulogy to Strayhorn, Duke Ellington noted that Billy Strayhorn lived by four freedoms: “He demanded freedom of expression and lived in what we consider the most important of moral freedoms: freedom from hate, unconditionally; freedom from all self-pity (even throughout all the pain and bad news); freedom from fear of possibly doing something that might help another more than it would help himself; and freedom from the kind of pride that could make a man feel he was better than his brother or neighbor.” (Interestingly, Ellington repeated these words about Strayhorn on his 70th birthday in 1969 when he received the Medal of Freedom at a White House ceremony attended by then-President Richard Nixon. Nixon reportedly “withered” visibly as Ellington described Strayhorn’s virtues so pointedly.)

Even if you’re not a fan of jazz, adding Billy Strayhorn to your own list of heroes or people to admire will be a worthy addition. And if you’d like to get to know Billy Strayhorn better, here are some great places to start (check your local library):

  • And His Mother Called Him Bill, Ellington tribute album to Strayhorn, recorded shortly after Billy’s death in 1967
  • Lush Life, recorded in 1963 by Johnny Hartman and John Coltrane—arguably the best version ever—not to mention the entire album is pitch-perfect
  • Lush Life: The Music of Billy Strayhorn, Joe Henderson’s tribute album, also featuring Wynton Marsalis, Christian McBride, Stephen Scott, and Gregory Hutchinson
  • The Peaceful Side, Strayhorn’s own recording of some of his best songs
  • Lush Life, David Hajdu’s wonderful biography of Strayhorn

And don’t forget to see if there’s a 100th birthday tribute scheduled anywhere near you. If not, you can make your own. Happy birthday, Billy … and thank you!

“Ever up and onward.” (Billy Strayhorn)

Oh, The Stories We Tell!

“The beginning of personal transformation is absurdly easy. We have only to pay attention to the flow of attention itself.” (Marilyn Ferguson) 

Attribution: Donna CameronWe learned in drivers’ training that everyone has a blind spot, or scotoma. Because of the way the eye is constructed, every human being has one. It is a location with no photoreceptor cells, where the retinal ganglion cell axons that compose the optic nerve exit the retina (the biology lesson ends here, I promise).

We may never be aware of our blind spots, though, because we’re really good at compensating—our brains are able to fill in the gap so the surrounding picture appears absolutely complete.

Beyond the physical level, we have blind spots on a psychological level, too, and our brains also attempt to explain the unknown data—with mixed results. We’ve all been there: when we lack information our brains make up stories to fill in the gaps—often the stories are both erroneous and damaging.

Perhaps two co-workers whom you often lunch with head out at noon without asking if you’d like to join them. Bewildered, you make up a story: You offended Carrie when you said you didn’t have time to check the figures on the budget she was working on, or you ticked Erika off by not stopping to chat when you came in this morning. They probably think you’re mad at them, and now they’re mad at you. They’re at lunch talking about you and saying nasty things about you.

By the time they return from lunch 30 minutes later, you’ve woven such a tale of perfidy that you’ve convinced yourself they no longer want to be your friend and nobody else in the office wants to be either. Why should they, after all, you’re a terrible, horrible, very bad person…?

When Carrie and Erika walk in, carrying fast-food take-out bags, you learn that Erika dropped her car off for servicing and Carrie followed to pick her up and drive her back to the office. As they’d feared, it took so long that they only had time to stop for some mediocre take-out, which they’ll now have to eat at their desks.

The story you constructed was entirely false—nobody was mad, nobody was offended, nobody was saying terrible things about you behind your back, and you are not a terrible, worthless person.

Sound ridiculous? Maybe it’s a bit of an exaggeration, but we do it all the time. We don’t know the reason someone acted the way they did and we make up a motive that has no basis in reality. It might suit our mood, or our current level of insecurity, or maybe our flair for the dramatic.

How many times has your spouse or significant other seemed a bit distant and you’ve attributed it to anger, lack of interest, or smoldering resentment because you failed to wash your lunch dishes? When the truth is that he is just trying to remember the name of his 8th grade math teacher—and it’s driving him crazy that he can’t.

Many, many years ago, I learned that the board of directors of an organization I served as executive director for held a board meeting without telling me. I stewed for 24 hours. Why would they meet without me? Did I do something terrible they needed to talk about without me present? Are they going to fire me? Finally, I picked up the phone and called the board president. I explained that association boards should never meet without the knowledge and presence of their executive director. It was my job to make sure they never violated any antitrust regulations or nonprofit laws. What, I asked, could possibly have motivated them to hold a meeting without me? There was a long pause at the other end of the line. A very long pause. Finally Doug said, “We do know that, Donna, and ordinarily we’d never meet without telling you, but our conference is coming up and we wanted to honor you for great job you are doing for us. We were talking about the best time to have a special ceremony and what we could buy you for a thank-you gift.”

I felt like bug spit.

Ever since that embarrassing moment, I’ve tried to imagine positive reasons for inexplicable actions rather than—or at least in addition to—negative ones. My positive stories are generally just as erroneous as my negative ones, but while I’m in that suspended limbo of not-knowing, why not enjoy my imaginings rather than agonize and fret over them?

Kindness Lessons

There are some great kindness lessons for us if we take time to think about how we feel and what we do when we have gaps in our knowledge:

Lesson #1: It’s not always about us … in fact, it’s usually not about us. Just because we’re the center of our own universe, it’s very unlikely we hold that exalted position in many other minds. I find this reminder immensely freeing: “Forget what everyone else thinks of you; chances are, they aren’t thinking about you at all.”

Lesson #2: Yield to the curiosity triggered by not-knowing. As we talked about in an earlier post, “Kindness and curiosity leave no room for anger and resentment.” Employ curiosity to seek kind and compassionate answers to gaps in our knowledge.

Lesson #3: We can assume one another’s good intent. Instead of attributing a silence or an ill-chosen word to malice or resentment, we can just as easily say to ourselves, “That didn’t come out the way she meant it to … I know her intention was positive.” Why wouldn’t we want to believe the best rather than the worst?

Lesson #4: We always have a choice about the stories we make up. Even if we are drama queens and kings, we can make up stories based on positive assumptions. All it takes is some awareness on our part.

Lesson #5: We can always choose peace. We have control over both our perceptions and our reactions. We can choose the path that leads us to peace. It takes practice, but it’s within our capabilities.

The stories we tell ourselves have power—power to change the world. When was the last time you made up a story to fill a gap in your knowledge? Was it a positive story or a negative one? What are you going to do next time?

“We do not actually know other people; we only know our judgments.” (Bryant McGill)

Choosing Our Cyber-Voices

“The true essence of humankind is kindness. There are other qualities which come from education or knowledge, but it is essential, if one wishes to be a genuine human being and impart satisfying meaning to one’s existence, to have a good heart.” (The Dalai Lama)

Troll dolls came originally from Denmark; inexplicably, they were one of the biggest toy fads of the 1960s in America.

Troll dolls came originally from Denmark; inexplicably, they were one of the biggest toy fads of the 1960s in America.

Over the summer, I wrote a few posts about bullying. I thought I was done with the subject, but one aspect of bullying I didn’t spend much time on is cyberbullying. The more I read and learn about bullying, the more I see how cyberbullying has taken bullying to new and insidious heights. I’ve been shocked to learn about the extent of it and the number of suicides and attempted suicides it has triggered—mostly in children and teens.

My friend Ann shared an excellent article with me from the Nov/Dec 2014 issue of Scientific American Mind. “Virtual Assault” describes the many ways people are bullied online or through social media, and the psychology of people who engage in such poisonous activities. It noted, interestingly, that “contrary to popular wisdom, bullies are not merely compensating for their own low self-esteem,” but often they are “perched at the top of the social hierarchy and demean others to cement their position.”

I also learned that people who engage in cyberbullying and attacking others on-line or through social media are referred to as “trolls.” It’s often up to the on-line community, says article author Elizabeth Svoboda, to establish norms and tell trolls in no uncertain terms that bullying is not acceptable. Svoboda also says one way to counter the damage of bullying is to step in and offer support to the victim. Silence isn’t golden.

The Damage Trolls Do

A front page article in the Seattle Times earlier this month addressed how Donald Trump is effectively using Twitter to outpace his Republican rivals for the presidential nomination. The article strayed from mere politics to describe how last year Trump devastated actress Kim Novak by posting a cruel tweet.

The reclusive actress—a glamorous movie star in the 1950s, now in her 80s—was convinced by friends to make a rare public appearance at the 2014 Academy Awards. As she was on stage making a presentation, Trump tweeted, “I’m having a real hard time watching. Kim should sue her plastic surgeon.”

Ms. Novak was devastated. She retreated to her Oregon home and didn’t leave for months, having fallen into a self-described “tailspin.” When she finally did comment, she called Trump a bully. Many other people expressed their disgust at his comment and he eventually backtracked. Later, he expressed regret for sending the tweet. He said, “That was done in fun, but sometimes you do things in fun and they turn out to be hurtful.” At the same time, he stood by equally unkind comments he has made about other celebrities.

It saddens me that so many Americans are supporting a person who believes sending so public and so cruel a message is “fun.” Just because you may have a “fun” thought doesn’t mean you should send it out to millions of people who, themselves, may forward it further. Words can hurt. Kindness counts.

YOLK Fights Temptation

I have to make a confession here: Ever since I learned that cyberbullies are called “trolls” and subsequently read about Trump’s cruel tweet regarding Kim Novak, I have mentally photo-shopped Donald Trump’s head onto a troll-doll, such as the one at the beginning of this post. Now, when I picture Mr. Trump that is the image I see.

I was oh, so tempted to actually photo-shop the picture that is in my head and post that on today’s blog. There’s no question that it would have been fun, and it would even convey a timely message about bullying, but it would not have been kind. I would be engaging in exactly what I am decrying. Although I am often willing to overstep political correctness for a cheap laugh, I knew I wouldn’t feel good about doing something like this. If I believe we have a responsibility to use the internet and social media for good, I can’t justify sending out an unkind image—however adorable it may be. I leave it to my readers’ imaginations.

Another Segue—But It’s All Still Connected

I recently watched a very interesting TED talk featuring Monica Lewinsky—yes, that Monica Lewinsky. Nearly 20 years after she was involved in one of the biggest scandals in modern American history, she is now an articulate and poised woman in her early 40s. She spoke movingly about her extremely high-profile humiliation in the late 1990s, about the aftermath that nearly drove her to suicide, about her decade-long silence, and her subsequent decision to take a vocal stand against cyberbullying. Many things struck me in her very candid and thought-provoking talk—I encourage you to listen for yourself—and one was extremely simple: our clicks matter.

We can change the unkindness being spread online and through social media by not clicking on it. Not clicking when we see a venomous, cruel, or provocative headline, not clicking when we encounter negative articles and message boards. It’s that simple: we manifest what we give our attention to, and if our attention is on the cruel and the crude, it will foster more of the same. Likewise, we can foster a positive and healthy cyberspace by choosing kindness, making kind comments, and taking the time to encourage rather than berate. With every click, we make a choice.

Trusting the Kindness of Others

When I started planning and setting up this blog nearly a year ago, I read a couple of books and a number of articles about blogging. I also talked to a few experienced bloggers. Out of the many pieces of excellent advice I got, there was one I chose to ignore.

Everyone said to set up the blog so I could moderate comments before they went public, or at least moderate the first comment someone makes, then, if I approve their comment, that individual is “pre-approved” for future comments. The other option was viewed as dangerous: to allow any comments to appear without an opportunity to weed out the crackpots.

WordPress is a great platform and it gives the novice blogger plenty of guidance and plenty of options. During set-up, I clicked the button that allows comments to appear without any moderation. It seemed to me if I was going to commit to kindness, I needed to trust that any readers who might visit the blog and take the time to comment would have good intent. I haven’t regretted it. I will also admit, though, that I did think that if anyone posted a rude or malicious message, it would give me an opportunity to test my kindness resolve—could I be gracious and compassionate if attacked online?

Without exception, the comments readers have made have been thoughtful, wise, and also kind. They’ve inspired me to think, sometimes to laugh, and always to feel grateful for the time commenters have taken to share their thoughts. If there are any crackpots out there, I haven’t encountered them (okay, maybe my husband, but being a crackpot is one of his most endearing qualities).

Through this blog and the WordPress community, I have met countless interesting, funny, wise, generous, smart bloggers. There is so much positivity in this community and I am better for the connections I have made here. That’s why I’m so surprised when I hear about the cruelty and malice some people engage in—usually anonymously. I don’t understand it; perhaps I never will. But if enough of us click mindfully, and choose kindness, perhaps the unkind voices will someday be stilled.

That will news worth tweeting….

“How would your life be different if…you stopped making negative judgmental assumptions about people you encounter? Let today be the day…you look for the good in everyone you meet and respect their journey.” (Steve Maraboli)

Strategies for Bringing Kindness into Your Life

“If the world seems cold to you, kindle fires to warm it.” (Lucy Larcom)

IonaNorthShore-RocksAs I was thinking about what to write this week, I stumbled upon an article that resonated deeply with me. Juliana Breines, PhD, a post-doctoral fellow at Brandeis University, wrote an article entitled “Three Strategies for Bringing More Kindness into Your Life” for U.C. Berkeley’s Greater Good Science Center.

She describes 10 core kindness practices, under three broad categories, that research shows will enhance kindness and generosity, leading to increased overall satisfaction with life. What’s not to like here?

Cultivating Feelings of Kindness

The first category of kindness practices deals with cultivating feelings of kindness. For each of the painless strategies enumerated, there are research studies showing their effectiveness in enhancing our desires to be kind and compassionate.

Feeling Connected Practice – This practice asks us to think about a time when we felt strongly connected to another person—perhaps by a shared experience or a profound conversation. Research has shown that this simple exercise increases concern for others and spurs intentions to perform generous acts. The explanation for this outcome, according to Breines, is, “feeling connected to others satisfies a fundamental psychological need to belong; when this need is unmet, people are more likely to focus on their own needs rather than caring for others.”

Feeling Supported Practice – Another simple practice, this one involves thinking about a time you were comforted or supported by others and the qualities and actions of those people who supported you. Research has shown that this practice increases our compassion and willingness to assist a person in need or in distress. In addition to instilling a feeling of “attachment security,” this practice reminds us of the qualities we want to exhibit in ourselves.

Take an Awe Walk – I love this one. An awe walk is a stroll to a place that makes us feel “connected to something greater than ourselves.” It might be the ocean, a forest, or whatever to us seems immense and “perspective-shifting.” For each of us, that awe walk may be a different destination—it might be a lengthy hike, or a few steps from our back door. What’s your awe walk?

Compassion Meditation Practice – This is often referred to as lovingkindness meditation. It’s a practice combining breathing with extending feelings of goodwill toward oneself, one’s loved ones, acquaintances and strangers, and even people we dislike. Breines cites research that just two weeks of compassion meditation result in more generous behaviors and even alteration in the part of our brains that govern compassion and emotional responses. You can find many guides to compassion meditation on-line, including the Greater Good in Action website.

Pause: Before we move to the next category of kindness practices, pause and think about doing some of the above. Schedule an awe walk or think about when you feel connected or supported. Look into the lovingkindness meditation practice.

Increasing the Happiness We Get from Kindness

This next set of strategies deals with ways to be more intentional about practicing kindness in our own lives—and turning kindness into a habit. If you want to increase the number of kind and generous acts you perform, try these proven practices:

Random Acts of Kindness – Such acts are usually simple, spontaneous actions, such as picking up the tab for a stranger’s coffee, putting money in the meter so someone doesn’t get a ticket, or donating blood. This practice suggests performing five random acts in a single day and then writing about the experience. If you’d like more ideas about random acts of kindness, Buzzfeed has a great list of 101 suggestions. Breines notes that performing random acts of kindness both lifts our spirits and increases our self-esteem.

Making Giving Feel Good – There’s a difference between giving because we feel pressured or obligated to do so and giving because we want to. The former may not feel good and may even lead to resentment. The latter does feel good and increases our personal satisfaction. To avoid the negative feelings, we need to make giving a choice—whether we are being asked to give or asking others to give—it must be okay to say no. An additional way to make giving feel good is to make a connection with the recipient of your kindness—don’t just hand a homeless person a couple of dollars and hurry on; take a moment to make eye-contact and exchange a few kind words—it’s easy and it will make you both feel good. Another is to learn about the impact of your generosity—if you give time or money to a cause, take time to learn about how people are positively impacted by your generosity.

Inspiring Kindness in Others

The next set of practices are ways to help others see the value of kindness and engage in kind actions.

Reminders of Connectedness – This is simply examining our surroundings and looking for ways to create reminders of the importance of kindness and connectedness. It might be pictures of people working together placed on the walls of a classroom, a letter of thanks from someone who was helped by our work on the bulletin board at our office, or an inspiring quotation at the top of a board meeting agenda. Look around your place of work for places to convey your team’s connectedness or your shared mission.

Putting a Face on Human Suffering – Sometime kindness requires a kick in the pants—to help us overcome that powerful inertia that keeps us from acting. Sharing pictures or stories of people in need often lights a fire of action and involvement—motivating people to help. Remember the pictures last month of the Syrian child who had drowned in his family’s harrowing sea journey to freedom? That photo motivated more people to action than all the faceless reports of data related to the humanitarian crisis. Similarly, we’ve seen many times that a photo of an abandoned dog or cat in a cage at the humane society spurs the adoption of stray animals far better than reports citing the statistics of homeless animals.

Shared Identity – This practice asks us to explore ways of forging a sense of our common humanity across group boundaries. Whether it is our common love for our children or mutual passion for a sport, we can overcome fear and mistrust by developing a sense of shared affinity. When we take time to think about it, we have so many more similarities than differences with the people who may seem alien to us.

Encouraging Kindness in Kids – If we can instill kindness at an early age, we can change the world. Strategies for nurturing children’s natural propensity toward kindness and generosity include avoiding external rewards for kind behavior so kids see that kindness is its own reward; praising kids’ character so they come to see themselves as kind; when criticism is called for, criticizing the child’s behavior, not their character; and modeling kindness ourselves.

As I review this list of strategies and behaviors that promote kindness, I’m struck by the fact that none of them are difficult, they simply require practice. Like anything we want to do well—from public speaking, to ping-pong, to piano playing—we get good at it by practicing. I can’t think of anything more worthwhile to practice than kindness. Can you?

“You must take personal responsibility. You cannot change the circumstances, the seasons or the wind, but you can change yourself. That is something you have charge of.” (Jim Rohn)