"Kindness" Through Loss
Genuine kindness comes out of the type of loss that shatters your world, and for me that was a Saturday when I was twelve. It was glaringly bright when I left the ICU waiting room. I sat quietly in the passenger seat of the truck, numbly dealt with the flowers, and finally sat on the edge of my bed trying to imagine a world without my mom. For a single moment my life stopped and I felt “the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth” as phrased by Nye in “Kindness.” There is no way to explain or empathize with complete loss until you have experienced it. Nye captures living with it nicely when she states “You must wake up with sorrow, You must speak to it till your voice catches the thread of all the sorrows and you see the size of the cloth.” Her loss came from a traumatic robbery while traveling. She witnessed a death and was left stranded in a foreign country without resources. Initially, Nye's background story felt so different from my own. The emotions in the poem though are applicable to a more universal experience of loss.
My teen years were something like being caught in the surf with waves of loss repeatedly crashing over me. And yet between each wave I felt a greater pool of kindness and empathy. Nye’s summarizes these moments of loss as “What you held in your hand, what you counted and carefully saved, all this must go so you know how desolate the landscape can be.” This metaphor captures the image of a safely guarded and cared for thing, which in this case is your life. She continues with “between the regions of kindness,” and that is one of the few moments in the poem that doesn’t feel relatable to my story. Throughout my turbulent years I was constantly showered with kindness from my community. In fact, at times the kindness was overwhelming. The ultimate loss was the loss of my mom, so picking up the pieces became easier and easier. And with each loss I found I could empathize more deeply.
In my role as a healthcare worker my gift became meeting people on the single worst day of their life and easing their way, which was driven by a deep need to make the world a little kinder. As Nye stated “You must see how this could be you,” and that was my goal as I tried to help each patient through medical procedures. Nye based her kindness in that “he too was someone who journeys through the night with plans and the simple breath that kept him alive.” My personal version of this is that every patient wanted their story heard. Even though every patient was at the clinic for the same medical procedure how they got there varied greatly. I began to be able to read emotions emitted and knew who needed space, who needed a tissue, and who simply needed to talk about ice cream. After so much loss “it is only kindness that makes sense anymore” per Nye. That is why each time I held someone’s hair while they vomited or pulled up their pants it felt like I was making their world a little kinder. Additionally, it was at the moment they needed it most.
Eventually I realized that my passion had become helping people at their most vulnerable moments. My motivation was there before all the losses, but my personal drive came from them. Nye summarizes this idea of grief formed kindness guiding you as, “only kindness that ties your shoes and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread.” Nye uses the simile that kindness then becomes your shadow. I agree, but would argue that grief is a secondary shadow layered behind the kindness. The grief fades, but is always there.
The simplicity of the poem “Kindness” is what makes the emotion palpable. However, we all lead long and complex lives with what feels like a cyclical pattern of loss. Nye shows a central loss, but it left me wanting to know about the collective losses. In the last several weeks I have again felt “the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth” while working through a loved one’s health crisis. I am hopeful that this will become a deeper source of kindness and empathy to draw from. It's from the layers of collective losses that you create empathy.
I related deeply to Naomi Shihab Nye's "Kindness,” but it did not encompass the effects of a multitude of losses. I wanted more. I wanted affirmation that the collective losses were leading somewhere beyond the kindness. So, I wrote a poem! Below is my sequel to "Kindness."
“Empathy”
Before you knew empathy there was kindness,
which was found in the moment you lost it all and
time stopped for just a moment -
But empathy was born from the latest
Apocalyptic meltdown that was your life.
At first you sprint in a sympathetic response
Clutching the embers,
But eventually you relax into walking through the remains
reminiscing on what used to be.
Before you use your empathetic superpower
You must be crushed yet again
by the weight of loss and fear and worry.
Another person dead,
another connection lost,
another slip up.
Before you are empathetic you are a million swirling ideas,
Contradictions and concerns,
Questioning whether running or staying would be easier.
Sure you wake with it,
but you must hone it and dial into it,
And perfect it.
Eventually you are your empathy,
Because the losses were like waves on a beach
Creating little hollows where there now are wells.
The waves are endless and the crashing won’t stop,
But it’s a superpower you have earned
To lay back and float knowing this empathy will take you further
than the waves can ever hold you back.
CLAIRE TODD is a freshman pursuing general education studies.. Selected by Professor Ron Spatz.