Cover Image: Illustration by author. Source images from Unsplash and VectorStock.
In 2020, we have two choices: be part of the negativity, or not.
Kindness, it seems, is a thing of the past. The world is at the highest level of pessimism it has ever been in. Of course, we have a pandemic to blame, but that’s not all.
In the US alone, the Atlantic coast was hit by 25 named storms, the second most active hurricane season on record. On the Pacific coast, raging fires are not getting any better. Top that off with debatably the worst presidential election to happen to a country that has had plenty of shitty ones.
Even my most optimistic friends have succumbed to the other side. Some of them even fled the country they once called the home.
My mentor, for the first time in the year or so I’ve known him, isn’t hopeful about the future anymore. He fears a civil war brewing up, and it’s not going to be pretty.
I live up north in Canada, and even if it seems like things are going better for us, random acts of kindness are few and far apart. So much so that when they happen, it’s so surprising that we don’t even know how to act anymore.
I live in Montreal, where there are many homeless people. They had it rough before the pandemic, imagine now. People don’t even want to be anywhere near strangers, imagine homeless people’s case.
It’s an ugly sight, and I fear for winter. And Winter, my friend, is coming, both figuratively and literally. Everything shut down again here because of the pandemic. Winter already felt like a zombie apocalypse here at times, imagine what this year is going to look like.
Phew, all that is pretty grim, isn’t it?
But you know what? All this is a choice we all can make. The situation sucks all over the world, but we have two choices: be part of the negativity or not.
Recently, I was acquainted with three random acts of kindness that showed me how to go about choosing the latter option. I hope they inspire you the same way they inspired me.
Three acts of kindness for the sake of hope
Last Friday was a strange day for me.
It started with a one-hour call that turned into a three-hour one. I joined in on a conversation between a business partner and a representative of a Canadian fund for entertainment products. The representative was answering questions my business partner had. While the answers were not positive, at least they were honest and clear.
After that call, we regrouped to discuss how we’d proceed going forward. To my surprise, my business partner was in tears, completely devastated. Essentially, one of his projects had to be put on the back burner.
If, like most people, you’ve cared so deeply about something and it gets taken away from you, you already know the feeling. The next two hours were about trying to manage his emotions and guide him in the best way I could.
The worst part, for him, wasn’t that he was denied working on his favourite project, but rather that he wouldn’t be able to provide for his employees. He cried not for his own sake, but for that of people he truly cared about.
He didn’t have to care for others. He chose to care and be kind.
This is a rare moment of kindness that reminded me that kindness, in fact, still does exist.
Now, I did say it was a strange day, so it really starts after the call. 30 minutes after hanging up, while eating lunch, I broke a tooth. Just like that, I bit into my hot slice of pizza, and suddenly I felt intense pain coming from one of my teeth in the back. I felt a crack from top to bottom with my tongue.
It was 1:30 pm, on a Friday before Canadian thanksgiving the next Monday. My dentist was closing at 4 pm that day. There was no way they’d be able to get in me before the long weekend. Or so I thought.
So, I called and explained the situation. I was sure it would be too last minute. The secretary told me to wait a few minutes. They re-jiggled the schedule, called in the owner, and found me a slot for 2:50 pm. One hour and twenty minutes after my call — one hour before their closing time!
They didn’t have to do that. They chose to be kind.
And so I make for my appointment. I feared the worst and I was right. My tooth was completely broken. Shattered from the inside in ways you could never imagine. Even the doctor was surprised at where and how it happened.
She kept the conversation positive and made light of the situation in a good way. I appreciated it. After doing difficult x-rays (that was a hard tooth to reach, so battling my gag reflex was tedious, to say the least), she went over some ideas she had on how to fix it.
This was about to get costly…
I had just paused operations on my two startups due to the pandemic. My revenues are down 75 percent. My expenses are up 100 percent because of my newborn son and bad timing with taxes. Simply put, my finances are at their worst currently, so this complex dental work couldn’t fall at a worse time.
She must have read the financial worries in my face. Without a hint of hesitation, she said: “This visit is on us, you don’t owe us anything. And if you need help this weekend, here’s my cellphone number.”
What?
I was so baffled that I didn’t know how to react. When’s the last time you got such kindness from a stranger? I thanked her, but I felt like that wasn’t enough. But I didn’t know what else to do. So I left, crying of joy. Not just for the financial relief, but because of this incredible act of kindness.
She didn’t have to do that. She simply chose to be kind.
Kindness matters
On paper, last Friday sucked. But I choose for it to be a positive experience through and through.
It gave me hope that when everything seems so dark, that there is light out there — and that light comes from other human beings, just like me, who are also dealing with terrible shit.
I’m writing this at 1 am on a holiday because I was deeply inspired by the kindness I’ve witnessed and received a few days before. I’m lonely. I’m financially worried for my family. And yet, I’m happy. I’m hopeful. I know things are going to be okay.
Mark Manson, in Everything is F*cked, wrote:
“Hopelessness is the root of anxiety, mental illness and depression. It is the source of all misery and the cause of all addiction.” — Mark Manson
This makes me wonder what’s worse about the pandemic — the pandemic itself or the hopelessness it brought. Actually, you know what? I know the hopelessness is worse.
I see a lot more people depressed around me. I found myself escaping my shitty situation through video games, even when I knew full well it wouldn’t help me get back on my feet.
Everyone’s looking for some kind of escape currently. Most don’t find a good one. But the reality is that you don’t have to look too far. Kindness is the only escape you, your loved ones, and strangers need.
Kindness is the remedy for hope.
And if your country’s leadership can’t provide that for you, you have to find it in the little things, like those moments I shared above.
My finances suck currently, but you can bet that I’ll give any $10 bill I have on me to a homeless person in need. Kindness breeds hope. And if a simple act like that can plant a seed, then, by all means, I’ll do it every day if I need to.
Simple actions can have a rippling effect. Me witnessing and being the object of kindness only makes me want to give back in return. Someone who witnesses me giving kindness to another gives them hope in return.
We don’t even need to talk. As you know, and especially if you live in the US, you know that talk is cheap. Actions (hopefully with positive results) is what truly matters.
Now, you only just read about three acts of kindness. You didn’t see it in action. But I hope you’ve been able to imagine it clearly enough that you can acknowledge the actions that were taken.
Yes, we are at the highest level of pessimism we’ve ever seen, but we have the remedy, and it’s in all of us. Heck, it’s technically not even hard to produce. You simply have to care for others (but do care about yourself too). You just have to be kind to others.
It’s the oldest remedy in the world, and if it worked centuries ago, it can work now too. Kindness breeds kindness, which, in turn, becomes hope. And hope, my friend, is contagious, just like this damned pandemic.
Choose kindness and spread hope — it’s the only thing that matters.
You can do this!
— Danny