I like to think of myself as a kind person. It's the one thing I pride myself on, actually, even though my granny always told me pride goes before a fall and all that. Now obviously I'm not perfect; I know there are times when I could do more to be a better friend and a better person, and I obviously have days where I hate the world and think other people are stupid and wish they would go away and die in a hole, but so does everyone. (Note: Anyone who maintains they never think badly of anyone ever is a liar, and anyone who never has nice thoughts towards others is a psychopath with probable embryonic serial killer tendencies - run away!!) All in all, however, I think the scale tips far more in the direction of "I am a kind person" than not.
And it's not just being kind by buying stuff. I mean obviously if I win megabucks on the lottery the first thing I'm going to do is spend it on my nearest and dearest...well, ok - if I win megabucks on the lottery the first thing I'm going to do is jump up and down screaming with excitement before running around like a demented chicken imagining all the fancy vintage clothes and Vivienne Westwood stuff I can buy (also hell-loooo, Laboutins!) But yeah, then I'm going to get slapped by someone and will calm down, then I will start divvying up the dosh. After I pay off my debts (so long, student loan and overdraft facility!) and find myself a home of my own to live in with the cat (I want a maisonette or a bungalow,she'll get what she's given), I'll donate a sizeable wedge to the four charities closest to my heart (Women's Aid, Macmillan Nurses, Amnesty International and Help for Heroes, since you ask) and then I'm going to go to town. Parents mortgage paid off? Done! Money set aside to make sure my Nan is comfortable in her old age? Sorted! Brother and sister-in-law treated? Not a problem! Private One Direction concert for my wee niecelet and her bestest friends? Here's your cash, Harry Styles; now start singing! And that's before I even get started on my friends. Pack your bags, girls - we're going on an all-expenses-paid trip somewhere fabulous!!! (I won't leave you out, boys, don't worry, but this one's just for us...)
Now that's all well and good, but it is kind of contingent upon me winning said megabucks on said lottery. Since that is yet to happen, I have try and manifest my kindness in other, smaller acts. Yes, sometimes that is about spending money, like buying a bar of chocolate for a friend because you know she had to go through something horrid earlier in the day; and sometimes it's about spending time, like going to an appointment with your bestie because you know she's scared about going by herself, or handwriting a letter every month to your cousin because she's away on the other side of the world for a year and you don't want her to feel she's missing out on anything. Mostly, however, it's about not being a dick (thank you Adam Hills) and actually thinking about other people instead of yourself. It's not always easy - Man is inherently selfish, it seems, and these days we very much live in a "me me me!!" culture, never mind the fact we all have our own problems - but when you do something, some small random act of kindness for someone, it not only makes them feel better, you feel pretty darned good too.
But this isn't just about me and how uber-awesome I am with my writing stories for friends and buying people cake, because a) I'm not that awesome and b) I have modesty. Or self-deprecation. Whatever. I too have been fortunate in having kindness shown to me, both by my friends (the very act of being my friend is a kindness, I often think) and by total strangers. Two examples that stick in my mind:
1) When I was sixteen, I went on holiday with my mum, stepdad, younger brother and his friend to stay with my step-nan in Kent. My favourite place near to her house was - and is - the ruins of Reculver, a four-mile walk along the sea wall (and then four miles back; I had stamina in those days!!) On this particular occasion, I went for my usual stroll along to the ruins and then, on the way home, I was followed by some creepy guy on a bike who harassed me for the entire four miles. In those days I didn't have a mobile phone, so by the time I reached the seafront near my step-nan's house I was shaking and nearly in tears; I have genuinely never been so frightened in my life. It was horrible. I found a payphone and called my mum to pick me up; I was so shaken I couldn't even walk the last ten minutes up the road to the house. My brother, bless him, answered the phone and immediately came with my mum to get me - we may have had our squabbles over the years, but I know I can always, always depend on him to look out for me (an vice versa, I hope). The next day, I wanted to go back to Reculver because I didn't want my love for the place to be tainted by the memory of what happened, but I was still pretty freaked out by it. That was when my brother's friend, a 12 year old boy for gods sake, said he'd come with me. He walked the entire eight miles with me so I wouldn't have to do it alone and, in the process, restored my sense of peace about going. I have never, ever forgotten it.
2) Eleven years ago, my Arhoo - my dad's dad - became very, very ill after suffering years of ill-health. I went to visit him in Southend Hospital and, as I came out, I knew that he was going to die. I was fine as I left the ward, fine as I walked out of the hospital and out of the car park, but by the time I'd walked five minutes round the corner to walk home, I was sobbing. I only live about a fifteen minute walk from the hospital but I could barely put one foot in front of the other; seeing him like that, knowing what was going to happen...it was the worst thing in the world and I felt completely destroyed. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a voice was asking if I was all right and an elderly lady was handing me a tissue. There I was, a blubbering, snotty wreck in the middle of the pavement, and she took one look and decided not to run screaming in the opposite direction but to stop and ask if I was all right and could she do anything. To this day I have no idea who the woman was but her small act of kindness when I was most in need of it has stayed with me ever since.
And it's not just people I know. This blog post was inspired by something that happened on my way home from work tonight. An elderly man got on the bus in town, looking very smart and wearing his Forces beret and medals. Some oiky college student got up to give him a seat - which is rare enough - but, when the man thanked him, said oiky college student said "no - thank you for what you did".
Well. Just...well.. I was stunned and, actually, incredibly touched. I mean the whole Remembrance Day thing is very dear to my heart anyway; my Arhoo served in the Second World War, I have family who served until recently and, of course, Rob was in the Army until just over a year ago, but it was only today that I was talking with colleagues at work and saying that most of the "younger generation" seem to have no bloody clue about what it's actually about and don't give a toss either which way. And yet here on the bus was one of this younger generation defying the convention. I have no idea who you are, young man, but I hope your family are very, very proud of you...
So, there you have it. Kindness. It doesn't have to take much, and it doesn't have to be an extravagant gesture, but I firmly believe you have to have it. Where kindness is concerned, I try and follow the mantras of two of my favourite movies: "nothing is trivial" (from The Crow) and "be excellent to each other" (from Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure / Bogus Journey). I may not always succeed, but I fully intend to keep trying...
P.S November 13th is World Kindness Day. Do something lovely for someone. Even if it's just asking "how are you?" and then, when they say "oh, fine," asking "no, how are you really?!" and then actually listening to the response. Believe me, it will mean a lot...
