Lyrenhex

Be kind

26 June 2022 7 minute read draft mental health

Musings on the idea of 'being kind', and how it relates to humility, self-love, and human decency.

It’s such a simple instruction; just two words — but ultimately, the meaning behind the phrase “be kind” holds a lot more significance (in my view) than most give it credit for.

Before I begin, I need to address something (more for my own sake than anything else): in principle, nothing specific really inspired this discussion — so many people will use the phrase “be kind” that it hardly belongs to any specific individual. On the other hand, I’ll admit I hadn’t really heard it any time recently until I noticed that fasterthanlime includes it in seemingly all of his social media bios. It feels very mixed, in that respect: it’s a shame that there’s still a need to say that to people; but on the obverse face,[1] we know that people need to be told it, and yet we don’t? Arguably, we should be saying it more.

With the context, thinking more about myself and trying to be kinder (there’s always room for improvement, after all), I’ve since considered that being kind amounts to more than just basic human decency: of course, it begins with that, though. No human who dares to try deny the rights of BIPOC, LGBTQ+, or disabled (including neurodivergent[2]) people — or women, as is the case with the US Supreme Court at the moment[3] — could ever sensibly consider themselves (or be considered, for that matter) kind… But one can support everyone’s rights, and act in the interests of those whom one isn’t, and still not quite be as kind as they should.

No, I’m not talking about “thoughtcrimes” or any ‘unspoken’ unkindnesses.

What about you?

Being kind, in the end, includes being kind to yourself. Unkindness to yourself is an easy trap to fall into, and leads to countless issues later on; now, I’m not suggesting that people struggling with, say, depression is as simple a case of “oh, just be kind to yourself!” — it’s never as simple as that and there’s a reason we encourage people to talk to professional therapists about these issues, because they’re complicated. To the contrary, however, it’s certainly the case that you can be very healthy and still fall into these traps — especially with social media being as it is these days.

It’s remarkably easy to beat yourself up over mistakes which, in reality, no one else cares about; to not accept that humans make mistakes, and this is to be expected. It’s a common joke that we Brits have a tendency to apologise for the smallest thing, even should it not be our fault that we’re apologising for, but I think even beyond simple culture this is more of an underlying issue: we do not allow ourselves to make mistakes, or risk being perceived to have made mistakes, without feeling a compulsion to apologise for it. Apologising is good, when a mistake has occurred — but this ‘excessive’ apologising is indicative that we don’t see when we haven’t made a mistake anymore, and instead belies a presumption that we’ve done wrong. That isn’t healthy.

This principle, of not cutting ourselves a little slack, applies to so many facets of life it’s untenable: imposter syndrome at work is, in one angle, a case of not acknowledging that we’re allowed to learn at work, and not immediately be our best: part of work is developing to be better, and it’s impossible to know everything from the start… But this lack of knowledge leads people to believe they don’t belong, regardless of the untruth of that idea.

Humility and recognising our triumphs

So much of society is directed in such a way that it’s easy to reach the wrong spot by trying to do the right thing, because it’s so easy to go too far in a particular direction. The notion of ‘ego’ leads straight to one of these ‘gotchas’: no longer recognising your achievements, or an outright refusal to give yourself credit.

We are, as human beings, truly remarkable: we’ve been to the moon, discovered how to treat (and even eradicate!) diseases in a way that seems almost magical, and even tricked sand into thinking[4]; is it really so egotistical for Ada Lovelace to have some pride in writing the first computer program, or for Turing to have credit for one of the most widespread models of computing to date?[5]

No, right? So why is it any different for your own accomplishments? Your own work is your own effort, and the fruits of those efforts are yours to champion, be remembered by, and to have pride in.

Humility is the art of knowing this, of recognising this, and still ensuring that you respect and recognise the achievements of others in the same way: no one, ultimately, is any “better” than another. We’re all trying to just do the best we can for as long as we’re alive on this rock, and believing oneself better than someone else because of your accomplishments is a dangerous path - but that does not remove your expertise, or diminish your achievements nevertheless.

And your achievements are still your achievements when they’re shared. You’re allowed to be proud of the work you did as a group; humility simply requires that you recognise the work the others did too.

We should not shy away from compliments, or acknowledging our strengths: to do so is unkind to ourselves.

A conclusion, I suppose

Just over five years ago, I probably wouldn’t have written this - indeed, had I read this I likely would have dismissed it, unable to see the light for the shade I was in — but on reflection, as I’ve gotten better at being kind and gained a keener appreciation for the qualities of people, I think one of the hardest things to appreciate is yourself. Maybe in another five years I’ll have an even deeper understanding of what it means to treat yourself well, but until then…

Be kind.

Footnotes


  1. No one says this, but hey, maybe it’ll catch on? 😉

  2. I’m aware this is debated within various neurodivergent communities. Without going into detail (as this is a footnote), as an austic person it is my view that autism, at least, is a disability — I do not believe that the social model of disability precludes such a disability from, in fact, being a disability. You are, of course, welcome to disagree — insofar as you are not a government official with the ability to make disabled peoples’ lives hell.

  3. At the time of writing, it’s my understanding that the US Supreme Court had just overturned the decision of Roe v. Wade, an instrumental ruling in protecting women’s bodily autonomy in ensuring that women had legal access to abortions. If any of that understanding seems wrong, I apologise! I’m simply a Brit trying to best understand what’s going on across the pond and support people’s rights as best I can. For the avoidance of any doubt on this subject: women should have the right to choose what to do with their bodies, and this should not be a debate. Anyone who wishes to control women and their bodies is unwelcome in any space I manage, and is encouraged to leave.

  4. I don’t recall where I first heard this description of how computers work, but I still love it.

  5. Turing machines are hardly the only model of computation - lambda calculus is a particularly notable competitor. However, I would observe that Turing machines are taught at A Level, whereas lambda calculus is reserved for university — thus, I would argue that Turing’s is the better-known.