A Year of Cherished Kindness

Kate Fleming had a remarkable voice, a soothing alto so amazingly versatile that she could portray a small child or a Native American as easily as she could become the voice of a crusty old curmudgeon or an Idaho potato farmer on the audio books she narrated. She was an accomplished actress as well as an award-winning narrator and, according to her partner Charlene Strong, an elegant and willowy dancer.

Kate drowned in her Seattle home when the torrential rainstorm of December 2006, trapped her in her flooded basement studio.

I don’t know if I ever heard Kate Fleming’s beautiful voice. I’ve listened to my share of audio books on long drives, but never paid attention to the names of the narrators. But her voice spoke the words that will shape my chosen approach to life in 2008.

Kate said she cherished being kind to people all the time. I read her words in an article describing a documentary Charlene Strong is co-producing about the challenges same-sex partners face when end of life decisions are necessary.

She cherished being kind to people all the time. Those few quiet words, a simple sentence in a lengthy article, kept pulling me back. There was no equivocation here – no trying to be as kind as she could whenever she wasn’t tired, or distracted, or busy with the details of her own life – she said “all the time.” This wasn’t being kind to people she knew and loved, who’d been helpful, who deserved or needed kindness – this was, simply stated, people. And this kindness wasn’t a goal or a commitment; it was what Kate Fleming cherished.

Kate’s words have been softly swirling around inside me since I read them. A week after the article appeared I drove behind a car bearing a bumper sticker that asked, “What wisdom can you find that is greater than kindness?” As I posed the question to myself, I pretended for a moment that it was Kate who was asking.

The Dalai Lama once said, “My true religion is kindness.” No need to sort through the complexities of Tibetan Buddhist deities and dakinis when the essence of the message is so simply and elegantly stated. A framed picture of him sits across from my desk, and as I look at his comforting smile and sparkling eyes, I know that, like Kate, he too cherishes being kind to people all the time.

I wonder about being kind to people all the time. Would that even be possible for me? I think of my fervent, some would say rabid, political beliefs – could I be kind to those who support the Iraq war, who want to govern through their chosen religion? What about those who believe they are entitled to pollute the environment or own assault rifles; those who think it’s okay to spank children, or drive after drinking – could I be kind to them?

And I’m looking at far more than just being kind to people all the time – I’d want to cherish doing so, as Kate did. I try to spend as much time as possible with the people I cherish, as much time as possible engaged in the activities I cherish. I give attention, time, and energy to what I cherish.

I will need to bring constant consciousness to my practice of cherished kindness, along with time and energy. I will need to learn to be aware of each person I encounter and discover a way to be kind to them. No more slipping into distraction as I wait in a checkout line, there will be people around me that I can be kind to; no more silent critiques of the others in yoga class, or disgruntled eye rolling at those who drive in front of me. I see that this will be a practice of mindfulness.

Many years ago I developed a practice I hoped would maintain peace of mind while driving. Each time I spotted a disabled car on the shoulder of the road, or a person getting, or a trooper writing, a traffic ticket, or a road crew at work, I would offer a prayer of blessing for them and for myself. I would pray, May all be well with you, may all be well with me. Eventually the practice expanded to passing aid cars and fire trucks, those driving or speeding recklessly past, and even the long rubber remnants of blown tires we see on freeways.

I’d been inspired by reading of a monk called Brother Lawrence, who wanted to live a life of constant prayer; and by an overheard comment that our attitude while commuting is an indication of our emotional maturity. Both constant prayer and emotional maturity appealed to me as good aspirations. The Driving Blessings immediately softened my heart and brought comfort, so that I practice them to this day.

Perhaps that same kind of silent practice will help me to be more mindful of cherished kindness. I’m aware that I generate unkindness in my critical or resentful thoughts, Byron Katie calls it, “Going to war with someone in your head.” I will need to learn to practice kindness in my thinking as well as my actions. May all be well with you, may all be well with me.

I think of a woman who swims where I do in the mornings. She is very chatty and likes to engage in conversation while in the water. I like my morning swims to be meditative and quiet, so I keep my distance from her in the pool. I’ve been going to war with her in my head as I've heard her chatting to others, and of course, my mental state of war defeats my desire for meditation. I pledge kind thoughts to her when I swim tomorrow, and in doing so, I become aware of the kindness I will receive from having a peaceful mind.

This seems like the right beginning for me. I see that it is only a beginning; that the practice of cherishing being kind to people all the time will be an ever-expanding one that will increase mindfulness and consciousness and expand my awareness of myself and others. I’m sure it will challenge me as it grows me. I look forward to learning from it.

Kate Fleming once said, “I was born to read books out loud.” Thank you, Kate, for the gift of your voice that so moved and soothed others, and the gift of your words that now inspire me.