Hagintha Woods

I write frequently on community and being kind to others, and I feel like there may be a need for a postscript, a quantifier of sorts.

Firstly, I need to set some things straight. I am strongly behind the idea that people should treat everyone with a basic amount of respect and kindness. Everyone has their own set of struggles, and the world is a hard place. One should hold the door for others, be kind to service staff, respect other people’s boundaries, and advocate calmly for oneself. Essentially, I recognise that no matter the position, any person is a human being, and to treat them how one would like to be treated. That is simple enough, and something everyone should live by.

Of course, it’s something that is easy in theory, but hard in practice. We get busy, communicate poorly, get frustrated. I slip up all the time. Still, I keep trying. Just because I am having a bad day doesn’t mean I deserve to put that on others.

That struggle notwithstanding, oftentimes when I speak of kindness in my writing, I am often not referring to this foundational form of kindness. I am referring to a more radical form of kindness, one that lends itself to vulnerability, trust and strength. It is a gentleness, a lowering of defenses, a taking of a first step, an invitation of collaboration between equals. It is the panacea with which strong, positive communities are made.

Because of this, I know many people see me as idealistic. I’ve been told multiple times that people don’t work that way, that you have to lead with power and be strong. That you need to make sure you don’t get taken advantage of.

And that is where I feel people have lost me. I have my own ideals and thoughts about what should be, but I think it would surprise people who see me as a soft lamb and then realise I can be a right bitch when I need to be.

I know other people are guarded and desperate, and could take the chance where they could. Whilst some people may call for it, I do not advocate for just opening yourself out into the world in front of any stranger, all over the place. Not only is that difficult and unfeasible, it is unkind to the self, which is the person one often forgets to be kind to most of all.

I do believe that we would coexist better with a foundation of baseline kindness and honest conversation between people. As far as I can, I try to give the benefit of the doubt to strangers that cross my path.

However, for radical kindness, the opportunity is earned and built. With strangers, it often presents as a curiosity and an openness to being vulnerable. Only if both people sense the possibility of collaboration, growth and love does it deepen, start branching and gaining form.

There are approximately 8 billion people in the world. There are, therefore, 8 billion ways of being a human.

Sometimes, someone is simply malicious, but a majority of other times, the two of you simply don’t fit, two cogs with asymmetrical parts.

When faced with such a situation, the radical kindness often does not call for the labour of love and sacrifice. My form of radical kindness then calls for the acknowledgement of misalignment, the acceptance of there needing to be work from both sides before one moves forward, or to not move forward at all.

My form of radical kindness does not call to be the last tired hand giving out soul in a room that only takes. It does not call to force oneself to be in a room, a conversation where it does not fit. In such a situation, it calls for a reckoning, and sometimes, the choice to let go.

Personally, I cannot open my heart to people who make jokes at my expense due to previous childhood wounds that run deep. Those people may not mean ill. Sometimes, they mean to make light of hard situations, to point out facts with humour instead of looking at it head on so you don’t feel put on the spot. I have gotten to know some of them quite deeply, and I really do feel like they have hearts of gold.

All the same, facing such jokes leave me feeling foolish and alone, a five year old looking down at the floor whilst being surrounded by laughs. It is not a good feeling.

And yet, it is not that way for everyone.

I have met long time friends who exchange barbs with each other, but their words poke at familiarity, and truths they mean but cannot bring themselves to say out loud. As they tease and exchange witty commentary, I can see them honing themselves, using the safety of their friendship to spur themselves on to greater heights.

It is bewildering to me, a situation I cannot imagine myself to be in without wincing, and yet something I greatly admire.

Additionally, I cannot read a room. I don’t know why or how, but I seem to have been born without the ability, and even with training, I am below average on my best days. When I grow closer with someone who communicates more subtly, I often warn them of this, beg and implore of them to let me know plainly if they need anything. I am also more on the alert for implicit meanings and what people could need of me, but even with my trying, it feels like taking a stab in the dark.

It is a relationship that requires a lot of work and recalibration- often to the other person they have made they request as plain as day, and it still flies over my comprehension- and I always worry that I will reach out for a handshake and draw my hand back to find it stained with blood.

In both situations, neither of us are in the wrong. We just don’t fit quite right, and whilst there are many different ways people can come together, consequently, there are just as many ways that they can fall apart.

Of course, nothing is really impossible, and if both parties wish to make the effort, it is possible to make something work.

One of my partners grew up with indirect communication, but when she speaks to me, she speaks bluntly, and helps spell out some things at gatherings that I find impossible to understand and am happy to take her word for. Conversely, I temper my words with her, often thinking hard about what I want to put forth and how best to phrase it.

It does not come naturally to either of us, but to both of us, the other was worth the work. And we have benefitted, both learning things that we wouldn’t have been able to otherwise, both questioning things that we’d never have thought twice about. Whilst different people coming together results in more friction, sometimes when they do come together, the variance creates something that is incredibly potent.

However, for the both of us, it was a conscious choice.

This was not a decision made by one of us staying and getting hurt but still wishing for the best. We both saw the wounds we inflicted in the light, and we apologised, and mourned. Then, we made plans about how to do it better, and stepped closer to each other anyway.

I would like to emphasize that this does not make this relationship more morally superior in some twisted way to my other ones. Society has an infatuation with pain validating an experience, be it pain, a job or happiness.

We both saw something in the other that called to us, we knew there were struggles, and we did it, and that is all it is. No more, but certainly no less.

If both parties wish to make the effort, it is possible to make something work. But if the both of you hurt each other by coming close, or more importantly, if even one of you doesn’t want to or is unable to take the steps to come close in a better way, being kind in this context doesn’t mean braving the hurt and staying together anyway.

That is ego. That is pride. That is sometimes a fear of starting over.

In a lot of situations, to be kind also means knowing when to walk away, knowing when it is better to release the both of you from a painful purgatory of not being what the other needs, whether by situation, choice of even a mismatch of personality.

Too often, we hold onto bad community because at the very least, it is a connection in a world that leaves us lonely.

But if one’s attention is on forcing a fit, then you won’t notice if the right friend does walk by.

So what my kindness encourages is looking, but also staying true to what you find, and see things as they are. You have to be yourself, as much as you can, then see who gravitates to you and becomes your tribe.

You need to have good standards of what you need, know what you can and cannot give, and what you are receiving in return. When you think you’ve found it, that is when that radical kindness blooms into an outstretched hand and a step forward.

If they say no, take that graciously. If someone is for you, they will want you too. Either way, you are rewarded for that first step- you would have no answer if you did not try.

You have to pick the people you can be radically kind to, who will metabolise kindness and effort into fulfillment. You pick those with whom you are content, and yet feel comfortable aiming for greater heights with. You are intentionally picky, because you are worth it. If you pick the wrong person, after all, you will never be enough.

And then, if the both of you are willing, you invest in it.

There is a community for everyone, but I hope that you do not take that to mean you have to be the community for every one. Focus on yourself and what you will do, respect others, and trust that there is a community out there for you, as you will be for them.

A drop of poison can taint a whole pond.

Lowering your standards won’t only hurt you, but the community you share or eventually will share soul deep connections with. It won’t be irreparable, but it will take a lot of soul searching to clean waters that have been muddied.

I hope that’s been helpful in some way or other, but I needed to get it off my chest. I wish you nurture the connections that bring you joy, and that you are open to discovery. I hope wherever you are, you are somewhere even better when I next come across you again. With every step we take, let us move toward our strength, and our power in working together.

With kindness,
Hag