Random Acts of Kindness: A one year challenge

I know a young woman who, along with her husband, has inspired me to attempt something which is much more difficult than it might seem.

Today I gave a small amount of money to a woman who was begging, then I stopped and talked with her for a few minutes. Not about anything important; the weather, that there seemed to be a lot of people out today, then wished each other well.  This could just be the yoga talking (I was leaving a class) because you know how that kind of thing cranks up your inner Damn Hippie, but it seemed to me that the few moments of talking was more valuable to her than the money…..nah, probably not.

Sustaining random acts of kindness across an extended period of time, at least as I have defined the RAK Challenge (which is all that counts, right?), requires being open to the world around us, and, the longer we try to to maintain RAK, the more open we become which is increasingly scary. The is no better way to find your painful, frightened, sore-to-the-touch, fragile spots (sort of like where you are ticklish and did not know it….only not) than to attend, really attend, to what others in the world are evoking from you, because often what is being evoked does not represent the best parts of who you would like to be.

Why do you move toward some people and away from others? I mean literally physically drift toward some people and away from others, as well as psychologically.  If I pay attention to my day, I notice that I have dozens and dozens of micro-engagements that normally I am only vaguely aware of, if at all.  There is Something comforting just beneath the surface that pulls and pushes me as I move through my world. It is like my whole day is made up of a game of “getting warmer, getting colder.” This Something does a pretty good job of making my world feel safe. I am moved toward the attractive, familiar and predictable, and away from the ugly, strange and unpredictable.  Ah, nice….  A buffered space to keep my world cozy, like a favorite old sweatshirt.  It doesn’t matter what I might miss out on (There might have been balloons and pony rides and one of those big Moon Bounce things)  as long as this Something keeps me from dealing with the ugly, strange and unpredictable because that might be dangerous.

So how does this fit into RAK?  As I noted above, RAK requires us to be open to the world.  If I am going to be aware of those who might benefit from an act of random kindness, I have to be prepared to move toward people and situations I might not normally move toward.  The Something and RAK cannot exist in the same space at the same time (Maybe it is like matter and anti-matter?  That would be cool and sciencey).  I find that if I want to be available for RAK, the Something cannot be driving how I navigate the day.  It takes effort on my part, sometimes significant effort, to actively choose to take myself on a different course than the quiet waters the Something steers toward. I have to be willing to sail into stormy seas where there be monsters. Which sounds like a horrible idea, yes? (The answer is: Yes, that sounds like a horrible idea).

I am mocking myself, which is half the fun of writing this blog, for leading a life often characterized by avoidance, but I am keenly aware of how destructive this has been, especially to the people I love the most.  I suspect letting the Something helps us avoid is the root of many bad things that happen in the world around us: violence, depression, cruelty, prejudice, judging, isolation from other people, thinking your coworker is a complete idiot who deserves bad things,… I get it.  I have known this for years, and to my credit (and I want credit here) I have been working on being different in the world for quite some time…..with mixed success.  Not to point fingers here, but avoidance and automatically defaulting to letting the Something dictate the course of the day is how the vast majority of us live our lives, but I am not pointing fingers. I don’t know what pushes and pulls you as you move through your day, but I do know mine.  My Something has a name, and that name is “Fear.”   Almost never is it screaming and running down the halls fear (almost never), but fear nonetheless.

There is a powerful but rarely appreciated scene in Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol where the Ghost of Christmas Present pulls back his robe and reveals two emaciated and horrifying children: Ignorance and Want.  I think my Fear can be summarized by these two unwanted and neglected children. Let’s start with Ignorance, which Dickens warns us to be most afraid of, although personally Want is scarier to me.  I suspect most of us encounter people everyday who we perceive as ugly, strange and unpredictable (i.e., Danger, Danger, Danger!!), and we avoid them, walk away, walk around, don’t make eye contact, do not in anyway acknowledge them, do not in anyway acknowledge that they are a person.   These dangerous characters are everywhere!  The homeless, the mentally ill, the drug addicts, the street corner preachers, people on the Metro, driving to work, on the street corners, some of them even work in my building.  It becomes so easy to see these people as The Other.  Not part of me, not a member of my group, not even really another person, just an obstacle to be navigated around.  Tara Brach does a much better job than I ever can in talking about this (TaraBrach.com), but we’re not on her website right now, are we?

I do not know these creatures.  I do not want to know these creatures.  I am ignorant of their status as humans and prefer to keep it that way.  But then there is this fucking RAK thing. Damn it!!  Remaining ignorant prevents me from being fully present with this person, from stepping, even if just for a moment, into their world which may be full of suffering, whether they be the homeless guy by the stoplight, the cleaning woman who empties the trash, the coworker you think is a dick wad although you have never actually spoken with him.  Note I am not saying throw caution to the wind and chase after drug addicts down darkened alleyways (Wait, I can help!) or be completely vulnerable to untrustworthy people (Your coworker may in fact be a dick wad) or empty your wallet when the homeless guy asks for money (I suspect you need that money yourself).  For me a fundamental element of doing random acts of kindness is to be a smidge less ignorant regarding this creature that theoretically might be human, to listen when an Other talks, to make eye contact and say “hi” even when I don’t give the homeless guy money.  This is part of why I put on my Big Boy pants and stopped to talk to an ugly, strange and unpredictable homeless woman, instead of just scurrying by.

All of this may be completely irrelevant to you or anyone other than me, but for me another piece of the puzzle is falling into place, there is an understanding, still quite vague, that is taking shape.  What of the other orphan?  What of Want?  I will talk about her when I blog again, or perhaps I should quit while I am ahead.