Survival of the Kindest
Today I feel compelled to speak on the nature of kindness as an antidote to the way in which we, as a species, have allowed vengeance, judgment and attack to “lead us into temptation,” and often with dangerous consequences. When we forget who we are, namely to one another, we transfer dominion from the heart to the ego, which, as A Course in Miracles warns, “is insidious at best, and vicious at worst.” We see this viciousness playing out across leadership and media, where the normalization of retribution has become as widespread as it is dangerous. We have grown casual in our cruelty, entitled to demean, provoke, and shame, and these are perilous waters. The soul of humanity is in need of great repair, and that repair begins with a simple yet profound choice: to practice and remember kindness first. In truth, our survival depends on it.
As a mother of two young daughters, few things move me more than witnessing their shared moments of kindness and tenderness. While kindness must be taught and modeled, it is also something deeply instinctual, providing a sense of safety and connection — the foundation upon which trust is built. Without kindness, it is difficult to trust, and without trust, there is no relationship. My daughters somehow understand this instinctively, which then begets the question: Why have so many of our leaders forgotten?
Kindness is more than a fleeting gesture; it is an orientation of the heart. It is marked by generosity, consideration, concern for others, and the rendering of assistance. It is curious rather than judgmental, tender as opposed to harsh, and intentional instead of reactive. Kindness is warm, soft, and embracing. Each of us knows the grace of receiving an act of kindness, especially in a moment of despair. It steadies us, fortifies our spirit, and restores our faith, not only in others, but in ourselves and in love itself.
Right now, dear friends, humanity is in despair. We have forgotten who we are, forgotten that all of life breathes together — lest it bleed together. And we are bleeding. And so, how do we, as individuals, shore up this haemorrhage? We start by not betraying ourselves, which means extending kindness first to our shadow, that aspect of self we normally bathe in ridicule and condemnation. “Compassion that doesn’t include the Self is incomplete,” teaches the Buddha. The more capacity we have to bring the grace of kindness to ourselves, the more capable we are of extending it to others. And the inverse is also true.
"I would see you as my friend, that I may remember you are part of me and come to know myself," teaches A Course in Miracles. Let this be a mantra — not just toward others but toward yourself. “I would see you as my friend” is transformative. If you don’t believe me, try it. Stand before a mirror, meet your own gaze, and extend this kindness upon yourself. “I would see you as my friend.” Watch as resistance softens into quiet appreciation. Watch how you soften. This is kindness in action, and this is the salve the world needs right now.
Healing is a process, it is not an event. It is a return rather than a destination. You are already whole, complete, precious and necessary. And please hold this last part steady in your consciousness, because it is important: You are necessary — necessary to the healing of humanity, necessary to your brothers and your sisters, necessary to your children, and necessary to life.
“We’re all just walking each other home,” reminds the great sage and teacher, Ram Dass. We are all just walking each other home, and the healing is the return. My hand in yours, yours in mine, life breathing together.
Please remember kindness on this journey — our survival might just depend on it. .