On Compassion

The kindness of strangers

Every time I visit Athens I book an appointment with my sister’s hairdresser. She is one of the happiest, loveliest young women I have ever met. We have had many conversations, throughout the years. She has told me about her struggles to have children, how she became a carer for her whole family, her faith in God. Nothing, I mean nothing in her positive attitude shows she had been through any kind of struggle. For that and many other reasons I am really fond of her.

During my last visit, while taking care of my hair,? she stopped and said

‘the old lady was here yesterday, cutting branches from my plant outside. She is doing it again’.

She excused herself and walked towards the woman, an elderly, quite poorly dressed lady in her 80s. I thought she wanted to have an argument with her. Instead, she asked her to come inside her salon, gave her a little chocolate and asked her

‘Do you like my plant?’.

The lady, somehow embarrassed, replied

‘I was trying to get a branch and plant it in my own garden’.

Without saying anything else the young woman picked up the plant and said,

‘I want you to have it. I want you to remember me when you look at it. It blooms with beautiful flowers, so if you come back next week, I will have a vase for you as well’. After the lady left, the young woman turned to me and said,

‘People need watering too’!

I was sobbing for the rest of the appointment! Kindness always feels to me as if a knife is piercing my heart, but I really could not understand why.

I believe I am a kind person myself. Kind, as being polite, but also kind by helping, whenever I can. I will donate to charities. I will stop to help strangers that need my help. I am one of these kind strangers. But I have noticed that every time, I was in the presence of Kindness, my internal force of gravity would be cancelled. Everything would just overflow and I would burst into this spontaneous, uncontrollable crying. I have been thinking about the reason for a long while. I had the feeling that the tears are coming from a deep place connected to my past. But still I could not understand the connection.

The word compassion, was unknown to me until very recently. For me kindness and compassion would mean the same. But even more interestingly I had never really paid attention to the phrase ‘be kind to yourself’. For a person like me, who is used to ‘tough love’-many times unnecessarily tough- that has accepted that kind of love from many people, that is treating herself that way, because she thinks that there is always room for improvement, compassion feels like a miracle! As I caught myself being self critical once more, I thought of the word compassion towards ourselves as opposed to compassion towards others.

I am thinking that most people are generally compassionate towards other human beings.? Kindness to strangers is something that we feel spontaneously, that I see in people, that if you observe hard enough you will catch it everywhere. Compassion towards ourself though, is something more complicated, almost mystical. In my case I had to be taught how to be compassionate.? I was lucky enough to find the teacher. It was a gift that I was given almost at the exact moment I have run out of hope, out of excuses!

Many incredible things have happened as a result of this new understanding of the word kindness. One of them was realising? that the reason I cried so much, when I encountered it, was because I felt its absence in myself! I remembered how unkind I have been to ME at times. I was trying to create a kinder world with my acts towards others, when I was so tough and unforgiving towards my own self!? In moments of great turmoil, when I felt my heart sinking, I had to go back to my inner child and ask for forgiveness. I had to apologise to Maria of 12, 20, 30 years of age for putting her through so much! For always pushing her to achieve, always asking perfection from her! Eventually I learnt to accept my mistakes and forgive myself in the present tense too. It is something that I am working on. Tough love still makes its appearance, but I quickly find my balance, my gratitude and compassion. And life is slowly changing. And for that I am forever grateful to the kindness of strangers that have taught me so much

A few months ago, on my way to the airport, I found myself at London tube, carrying down the stairs, a very heavy suitcase. A couple of people stopped and offered to help me, but I cordially refused. I can take care of myself, I don’t want to be a burden to others! But as I was going down the stairs, a kind stranger, a quite older gentleman, took the suitcase from my hand and said ‘I will help you’. He didn’t ask. When we eventually arrived at the platform, he turned towards me and I saw his face for the first time. I thanked him politely and got on my train, but the image of that kind stranger stayed with me for a while. There was something very familiar in the way he looked at me.

After a few moments I thought.

‘Maybe he needed to be kind to a stranger today'.

'Maybe he finds it hard being kind to himself’.

It was like looking in the mirror!

I hope you are kind to yourSELF!

I hope you are kind to THAT stranger!