How Do You Practice Kindness?

image by the author

Masks Required Here

The fabric shop has a sign on the door, Masks Required Here.
I am tired, stressed, and grouchy. I hope they have the cloth for a project due tomorrow. I need to get off my aching feet.

A man enters, jerking a ragged mask over his face.
“Why are you taking away my liberty?” he yells at the three women working at the cut and check-out station.

“You’re free, you’re not trapped in here,” says a clerk. Another clerk moves quickly to the back room.

“I have the right to shop here, this is a public space, and I shouldn’t have to wear this mask.”
“Masks don’t prevent flu” he yells, “It’s all a conspiracy!”  

“A vulnerable person works here. Management decided to mask to protect her.”

“That’s not my problem. She shouldn’t be here if she can’t manage a bad cold.

The two women turn their back on him, sighing loudly, shoulders drooping.

“Excuse me,” I say directly to the man in my teacher voice from across the room.
“Are you alright?”

He walks over to me.
“No, I am not alright.”
He shakes his finger at me “You people are taking away my rights, and I won’t stand for it.”

‘Not now,’ my feet complain.

I give him the most concerned look I can muster. “You seem very upset.”

“You bet I’m upset, lady.”  

I look him right in the eye and smile. “Let’s talk about this, ok?”

I breathe slowly and deliberately, trying not to be obvious.
He mimics me, without realizing it.

“It seems like you’d rather not wear your mask, and you want people to know that.”

“Yes!” he nods vigorously.

I speak a little slower “You believe your rights are being violated.”

He takes a deep breath. “Yes!”

I purposely slow down the interaction.
He glances over my shoulder at the fabric on the wall.

“I have a question for you, if you are ready to hear it?”

He looks back at me “What?”

I smile and meet his gaze again.
“I’d like to ask you a question.”

“Ok,” he replies.

“Are you sure? I ask.

“Ok,” he says, much quieter.

I’m surprised, I expected more yelling. I didn’t think this would work so well with an adult. I’ve slowed the interaction, practiced deliberate breathing, and mirrored some of his body language.
I’m in a safe space and the clerks behind him are listening intently. So, I take a bigger risk.

“You seem like a pretty nice guy really; you’re just upset about your rights.”

“Yes. I should not have to wear a mask for some other person. If that person’s a ‘fraidy cat, if all you people are lefty fraidy cats, then wear your masks. I’m not afraid of the flu.”

“So, you’re asserting your rights,” I repeated slowly.

“I said that.”

“What about the rights of these clerks?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, these people are just trying to help you get fabric.” I nod toward the clerks.
“They can’t change the management policy of the store.” I look around the store.
“And the other customers are trying to find what they need. They’re looking for bargains, not stress.”  I turn and look right at him “Don’t they all have a right to work and shop in peace?”

He places his hands on his hips, and steps into a power stance. “Then YOU should let me take off my mask.”

Quietly, I say “Oh, I can’t give do that. I’m just looking for fabric. I don’t WORK here dear heart.”

“Wha….” He drops his arms, closes the stance, and tilts his head in confusion.

“If I worked here, I couldn’t be listening to you like this.” I continue. “I’d be cutting fabric and ringing people up and staying out of trouble. There’s nobody here who can give you permission to take off your mask. But there is a really good way to complain.”

“There is?” he asked.

“Are you on Facebook?”

“Of course I am! I get so much good information about this silly “virus” there!”  
He thumps his chest with a fist. “I’m not illiterate – I’m a modern man! Not a mindless frightened sheep.”

‘Keep a peaceful expression and breathe’ I tell myself. ‘Stay connected.’
“So this place has a Facebook page, where they ask for comments and where you can also message store management. If you have a smartphone, you could do that right now! Or you could find your fabric and do it later. What are you looking for?”

“On Facebook you say?”  

“Yes. Fabric Outlet. So what fabric are you looking for?”
“You don’t work here.”
“Nope. But I know the store, maybe I saw it.”
“Camo Rip Stop Nylon.”
“Right over there”
He goes for the fabric, and I linger until he buys it and leaves.

“Are you alright?” asked the clerk as I checked out. “We aren’t allowed … he was scary.”
“I hope everyone else is kind to you today,” I say, heading outside.

Kindness for Introverts
I’ve been challenging myself to learn more about kindness, a little bit at a time. It’s easy to be kind to friends and students. It’s harder for an introvert like me with strangers.

It probably started with babies. I remember what it was like to be in a store with a couple of kids and a fussy baby – not knowing where my 10-year-old had gotten to. So, I started choosing the line at the store with the fussy baby. Sometimes I can be silly enough to get the babe’s attention, sometimes I support a parent. Once you realize how kindness relieves your own stress, it becomes habitual. Soon I started to let folks with little ones cut in front of me in line.

Gamifying Kindness

I found myself cultivating habits of kindness. Did you know that every time you are kind to someone, you get a little shot of oxytocin in your brain? On a small scale, bonding happens. Humans doing their best to help each other. I found ways to give sincere compliments – not only to people I know, but to strangers. To make it even more fun, I started to gamify the practice. How many genuine compliments could I fit into a day?

To the clerk in the mandatory blue work smock – “That color looks great on you.”
To the elderly person with the cheerful expression “Your smile is contagious”
To the efficient bagger at the grocery “Any team would be blessed to have you on it”
To the librarian “You’re a real gift, this book is perfect.”
The list goes on, and I discovered kindness blasts away stress.

I wondered if I still worked if I couldn’t see the pleasant reaction. I decided to try kindness in the car.
Instead of slowing down, I pulled to the side and let the bumper tagger go first. It may have done nothing for them, but what a relief for me. I let cars in whenever it was safe to do so. I wasn’t being a pushover; I was lowering stress with kindness. Even for people who seemed horrid. I wasn’t in their shoes. I had no idea what was happening in their lives. I decided to give them the same grace I give the students I serve – assume they are doing the best they can with the abilities and resources they have.

You can see how it could become a slippery slope. This is when I started understanding that kindness was more than a game to relieve stress, it began to become a spiritual practice.

I still react in anger or indignation often. Sometimes it’s entirely appropriate. But I’m working to change my default position. I hope that deliberately practicing small kindnesses might help the lifelong process of changing my habitual setting to compassion. Helping me choose love over fear.

The man in the fabric store was a bit scary, but he had a basic human need – acknowledgment. It might be that wearing the red hat and talking conspiracies gives him a feeling of belonging, of self-worth.

How Do You Practice Kindness?
How do you feel when someone listens to you with their whole heart? What are some of the simple habits you cultivate to choose kindness? What gives you a sense of belonging? Consider posting your answers in the comments.

I know that one conversation in a fabric store isn’t going to make long-term changes for that man, or the clerks. But listening changed 10 minutes for him, a bit longer for the clerks, and a long time for me. It might not always be effective to listen, but on that day, it was! And I am grateful.