The Kindest Thing

The Kindest Thing

You ask: what is the kindest thing

I can do for myself right now?

And trust that it will be the kindest

thing for others in your life as well.

Maybe driving with no destination,

yellow double-lines of the highway

unspooling behind you, the tightly

wound self finally coming undone.

Perhaps the kindest thing is a walk

with your phone turned off, so nothing

disrupts the flow of your attention

toward each new wildflower you see—

Carolina spring beauties, trout lilies,

and a clump of pink hepatica growing

from the mossy stump of an old maple,

stems and blooms caressed by a single

ray of sun that helps you breathe again.

Sometimes, we keep ourselves from the kindest thing because we think: I don't have time, I'm too busy, I can't possibly drop what I'm doing and take a walk. But as I often say, and rediscover for myself again and again, it takes so little for us to return to ourselves. On the day I describe here, I had just a free hour or two that afternoon, and saw no way I could “waste time” by taking a long drive, or stopping off at the Mile Around Woods, a local nature preserve that is like church for me. The question slipped into my mind, however: What is the kindest thing? And when I realized the unlikely answer, I had to take a leap of trust, as we all do, that it would be the kindest thing for me as well as for my husband and students, and each new person I encountered that day. As I drove, and then as I walked, my tightly coiled self finally unwound itself, and I could finally release all that I thought needed to be done before indulging in joy. This kindness to myself led directly to wonder too, as I looked around at the forest floor sprinkled with the pink flowers of Carolina spring beauties, trout lilies not yet in bloom, and a few clumps of hepatica, one of which grew from the stump of a maple. I stopped when I saw that one, because a ray of weak sun touched the tiny blossoms and fuzzy stems, so that the wildflower took on an otherworldly glow. I don’t know why we go around denying ourselves the beauty that is our birthright, especially if we are lucky enough to have the choice of how we spend at least some of our time. I don't know why it's often so much easier to show up for others, offering the kindest thing to them. I just know that one tender thing offered to ourselves leads to another and another, multiplying exponentially and expanding our circle of compassion, until it feels less like kindness, and more like simply a new way of life.


Invitation for Writing & Reflection: Begin by asking yourself the same question: What is the kindest thing I can do for myself right now? See what arises, and write it down, no matter how small or wild or unlikely it seems. You might start with the phrase, “The kindest thing I can do right now is . . .” and allow yourself to be surprised.

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Publication Day for my new book, edited with my husband Brad, is Tuesday, May 6th! Books will begin to ship, and we've been busy signing copies for all of you. To purchase your signed copies, follow this link to our local indie bookstore, Battenkill Books, or order from your own! We're planning quite an extensive tour for this new book, so check out those dates and places here.

Tomorrow May 3rd at 7pm, I'll also be reading as part of a concert by the Kulshan Chorus based on my book, The Path to Kindness, at the First Congregational Church in Bellingham, Washington. Come early for a pre-concert discussion at 6:30pm. More info here.