dear friends,
Last Wednesday, I took the 6 train from my apartment on the Upper East Side to Union Square, where I switched to the L. This is hardly worthy of note, except I had just finished reading an article about a certain justice on our Supreme Court who thinks that people who disagree in their beliefs cannot live peacefully in a community, let alone a country, together. As I looked around a very crowded subway car, I couldn’t help but wish that this Supreme Court Justice could see what I was seeing: people who have nothing in common treating each other with respect, thoughtfulness, and, yes, even kindness. Yet, his all-or-nothing way of thinking seems to be reflected in political discussions everywhere, not only in this country but around the globe. The underlying idea is that if we aren’t aligned in our thinking we must fight (violence is implied, if not outright called for) until one side or the other “wins” (what exactly? I wonder).
I beg to differ.
I’m not going to pretend that there aren’t problems with the subway system in New York City. There are, always have been, and probably always will be. But this newsletter is not about the MTA, it’s about people. All different kinds of humans: people who speak different languages, worship on different days to different gods, eat different foods, vote for different candidates, listen to different music, watch different movies, wear different clothes. You get the idea. In fact, I’ll go one step further and posit that some of my fellow subway riders really like things that I really don’t, and the other way around. Still, we all ride downtown together, in peaceful companionship.
And I think there’s something important to be learned from my very unremarkable subway ride.
Our brains are so good at picking up what is wrong and ignoring what is right that much of what is truly wonderful about life simply becomes invisible. We’re very aware when a train comes late, but we don’t notice all the times it’s there on time. We’re irritated when one person within earshot carries on a loud conversation on their phone, but we’re not grateful for the the other twenty people who are keeping their voices at a polite volume. We’ll tell our friends about the young man who didn’t give up his seat for an elderly woman with a cane, but we don’t mention the teenager who hopped up to give up her spot for a young mom with a toddler.
When I first started to experiment with gentleness as a foundational principle, I wanted to start seeing the world around me more clearly, and with kind eyes. Simple enough: pay attention and look for the good. This sounds easy, and maybe for some it is. For me, it was not (it still requires effort, but I rather enjoy that now). To create a practice that would help me in making this shift, I set myself the challenge of looking for micro-kindnesses whenever I was on public transportation. It’s a simple and straightforward practice. The effort lasts only as long as the bus or subway ride.
And what have I learned?
(1) We all love people who are unabashedly themselves. These are people going about their days, doing whatever it is that they do, and doing it in a way that reflects — with quirky joy — who they are. It’s the twenty-something who has decided to dress all in shades of pink and the tattooed teenager in high-water khakis, a trim-fitting navy blazer and a bow tie. It’s the grey-haired woman with a flawless manicure, matching shoes and handbag. These are the people who remind us that we all have something unique to bring to the table, and the world is a more exuberant, fun, and interesting place when we bring it.
(2) Kindness comes in all shapes, sizes, ages, and colors. I have seen pretty much every “type” of person one the 6 train do something kind for a stranger and every time I see it, I am reminded how easy it is to slip into a habitual pattern of thinking that deludes us into expecting good things from certain types and bad things from others. I bump into my own preconceptions rather regularly because my brain is like everyone else’s — full of habitual thinking, colored by my own prejudices and life experiences My rides on the 6 are a great antidote. I see kindness from everyone.
(3) We’re in this together. At the risk of being overly philosophical, I’m going to suggest that one of the main problems we face on the planet today is the delusion that we can separate ourselves from each other, our fellow creatures who share this planet with us, and the planet itself. Hurricanes destroy even the fanciest gated communities, micro-plastics end up in the bodies of even the top 1% of the 1%, and bombs are never entirely tactical. You would think that we’d realize that what hurts some of us, hurts us all. But still, we need reminding. When you’re in a subway car and it stops mid-tunnel, sooner or later there is a moment when some part of your brain will nudge you to panic. I have claustrophobia, so my brain kicks into panic mode very much on the sooner side. What I have experienced on the 6 is that my fellow New Yorkers generously share their calm. The young man sitting next to me continues to read his book, the group of teenagers keep whispering, and the elderly woman with the dog sits peacefully petting her canine companion. And I’m able to answer that panicky voice in my own head with the calm I’m borrowing from the strangers I’m sharing space with.
That’s all for now! I hope that as you move through the week, you’ll start noticing how much we have in common with our fellow humans who don’t look, think, speak, or act like we do. I hope, unlike certain members of the judiciary, that you will see that we don’t have to agree to live together in peace.
warmly,
alison
