A Kindness Revolution (Because We Need One)

I’ve noticed something interesting: when I am kind to people, they often respond with kindness in return. When I made it a habit to smile at the person at the cash register, they would smile back, sometimes a little surprised, as if I had just given them a diamond instead of a simple nod of basic human decency.

When I reach for someone’s hand, look them in the eye, and truly see them, something occurs—a kind of melting. It’s subtle, but you can feel it, like snow in the springtime. I can sense it when I compliment others for what they do or say. And one of my favorite things? Approaching a beggar and catching them off guard—not just with a coin, but with a look that conveys, I see you. You matter.
 
Does it make them feel better? I hope so. But the strange thing is—it also changes me. It turns me into a slightly better human, which, honestly, is a lifelong project.

‍Kindness is underrated‍

And yet, kindness is underrated. It’s like the sad, overlooked vegetable (steamed kale?) at the dinner table of virtues. People nod at it politely but reach for the steak. Being kind is both the simplest and the hardest thing in the world, mostly because some people are... difficult. It’s easy to be kind to nice, normal, non-terrifying humans. But what about those who are obnoxious? The ones who tailgate, cut in line, or say unforgivable things about your favorite cause? The jerks, the buffoons, the shameless schmoes? I have an instinct to respond with less than kindness. I want to give them a lecture, maybe a strongly worded email, a blunt Facebook comment, or perhaps — just perhaps — a tiny bit of public shaming.
 
But here we are, in a world where being mean has practically become a sport, where political leaders hurl insults like toddlers throwing spaghetti at each other. Where entire countries decide that bombing their neighbors is an acceptable way to resolve differences. Where people on the fringes are pushed further out, rather than being drawn in with kindness. I don’t know when this became normal, but I do know that it’s exhausting.

‍What did Jesus say?‍

Jesus, inconveniently, had other ideas. He said:
‍"But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven."
 
I can picture the disciples nodding along until he got to that part. Wait, love our what now? Surely there was a loophole. An asterisk. A disclaimer that said, “Does not apply to people who are obviously horrible.” But no. Jesus was maddeningly clear: “Love your enemies.” Even the tax collectors do that, he said. Be perfect. Perfect, Jesus? Really? That seems like a high bar.
 
And just in case we thought this was a uniquely Christian headache, here come Buddha and Mohammed, backing Jesus up like an unexpected moral support group.
 
Buddha: "Hatred does not cease by hatred, but only by love; this is the eternal rule."
 
The Quran: "The good deed and the bad deed are not equal. Repel [evil] with what is better; then the one between whom and you was enmity will become as though he was a devoted friend."

‍It’s a universal truth‍

It turns out that kindness—especially toward those we’d rather ignore, scold, or throw metaphorical tomatoes at—is a universal truth. Jesus, Buddha, and Mohammed all agreed on this. No exceptions. No footnotes.
 
Here’s my bold idea: What if we really gave it a shot? What if we began a Kindness Revolution?
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I don’t mean fluffy, passive, let-people-walk-all-over-you kindness. I mean the muscular, defiant kind. The kind that looks injustice in the face and says, “No, I will not become like you.” The kind that surprises people into rethinking their own bitterness. The kind that stops cycles of hatred before they spiral out of control.
 
I want a kinder world. I want leaders who don’t sound like playground bullies armed with megaphones and global influence. I want nations to settle their differences with words, not weapons. I want those discarded and forgotten to be drawn back into the circle, not shoved further out.
 
Kindness isn’t naïve. It’s not weakness. It’s the strongest, most defiant thing we can do in a world that thrives on division.
 
So, are you in?

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