CHAPTER 1

The PowerofRandom Acts of Kindness

We at Conari Press published Random Acts of Kindness to inspire and spread theword about the power of kindness. It did that and more: we have been floodedwith letters from readers, telling us of the kindness they have experienced intheir lives—simple acts that often left profound change in their wake. Eachstory was precious and powerful, from the simplest gesture to the mostunimaginable miracle. More Random Acts of Kindness grew out of the realizationthat we could not possibly keep these stories to ourselves. Sifting through thepiles of letters trying to pick which stories to publish was an almostimpossibly difficult task. In the end we simply went on instinct, selectingthose that moved us the most and offered the widest reflections on kindness.

Throughout the sorting process we noticed a few things about the inner workingsof kindness as stories converged and themes repeated themselves over and overagain. One of the obvious (and at first surprising) realizations was that mostof the stories submitted, the ones people were almost desperate to tell, wereinvariably about kindnesses they had received. In each there was a giver and areceiver, but the need to tell the story was almost always from the person whohad been the beneficiary.

At first we thought it was simply modesty. At a Random Acts of Kindness party weheld, after many people had shared an act of kindness they had received, wepointed out that all the stories were from the point of view of the recipientand asked people to speak as well of the things they had done. The audieneepolitely listened and then returned to telling the most fascinating and powerfulstories of kindnesses done to and for them.

Gradually it became clear that the reason we were flooded with stories fromrecipients was really quite simple: the quality of the experience wasdramatically different. The person on the receiving end experienced what wasoften a life-altering moment, whereas the giver experienced a less dramatic,quiet affirmation of simply having "done the right thing."

The second thing that emerged was that although the stories were as varied asthe people telling them, at the foundation of each story was a very simple andcompassionate connection between strangers who, for a moment, experienced oneanother not as strangers, but as family. In a sense, kindness truly is theacting out of our very deep and real connection to everyone and everythingaround us. It is the realization that all of us are in fact—not just in theoryor theology—in this together.

The third observation is about the extraordinary impact of even the smallest actof kindness. Many of the experiences happened many years ago but made such animpression that they were every bit as powerful in the retelling. Just a simplestory about a single act that occurred twenty years before could and frequentlydid call forth a deep well of emotion.

Most surprising was the realization of how easily we seem to misplace thisjewel. Kindness is something we are accustomed to thinking of as "nice" or"sweet" and we tend to set it apart from those things we perceive of as more"important"—attributes like intelligence, strength, and power. It is so easy tosee kindness as a wonderful quality in an individual but of limited importancein the complex life of work, achievement, politics, and society.

That framework arises almost naturally from the structure of our daily lives. Westruggle with the immediate responsibilities of paying bills, raising children,and searching for answers to the personal, social, and global problems we faceevery day. And although kindness is a positive and valued attribute to carrywith us in these endeavors, it doesn't always seem to play a role in the endresults. It can look like an "extra something" that good people weave into theirdaily lives—but not a necessity.

From the vantage point of having read so many people's stories, however, we'vecome to see that this attitude misses the point entirely. Kindness is not aboutpaying bills and getting by; its sphere of influence is vastly broader andultimately more important. Kindness is about being who we truly are. Seen fromthis perspective, kindness emerges as one of the most powerful tools at ourdisposal as we go through our lives. Its power not only is easily accessible toanyone who cares to use it, but it also can never be diminished; rather itexpands with every action. It has the ability to utterly transform anotherperson's life through the simplest of actions. It has the capacity to return usto the very core of our humanity.

Even with this limitless power in our grasp, the texture and context of ourlives often leave us confused about how to employ it. The desire is there—toconnect, to lend a helping hand, to extend ourselves out into the world—but theavenues for doing so seem obscure and confused. We are often victims of our ownfears and rationalizations—that the world is too dangerous a place to connectwith, that one person cannot make a difference. Too many of us suffer fromsocial shrinkage, reducing the boundaries within which we are willing to actfrom our hearts to smaller and smaller circles of friends and family.

When a mass tragedy occurs, people respond; floods in the Midwest, hurricanes inFlorida, earthquakes in California, famine in Africa—all are met with anoutpouring of kindness and generosity. Similarly, in most of the stories wereceived, the response had been triggered through the catalyst of someone else'sunavoidable need. And while this is good, think of the untapped potential thatwould be unleashed if we could find a way to weave the kindness in our heartsinto every moment of our lives.

That is the challenge: to learn how to practice random acts of kindness as awelcome and natural part of our daily lives. We see this book as a furthering ofthat learning.

—The Editors of Conari Press

A number of years back, my six-year-old son and I had gone shopping at one ofthose giant discount toy stores with toys piled to the ceiling. We had just comearound the corner of an aisle when I saw a young, long-haired bearded man in awheelchair. He must have been in some terrible accident because both his legswere missing and his face was badly scarred. Just then my six-year-old saw himtoo and said in a loud voice, "Look at that man, Momma!"

I did the normal mother thing and tried to shush my son, telling him it was notpolite to point; but my son gave a hard tug, broke free from my hand, and wentrunning down the aisle to the man in the wheelchair. He stood right in front ofhim and said in a loud voice, "What a cool dude earring, man! Where did you getsuch a neat earring?"

The young man broke into a grin that lit up his face. He was so taken aback bythe compliment that he just glowed with happiness, and the two of them stoodthere talking awhile about his earring and other "cool stuff." It made a lifelongimpression on me.

For I had seen only a horribly scarred man in a wheelchair, but my six-year-oldsaw a man with a cool dude earring.

As a childI understood how to give;I have forgotten this gracesince I became civilized.

—Ohiyesa

Years ago I had to have a new water heater installed. A very surly man showed upto do the installation, giving short, curt answers to my every question. Ithought he was simply a...