The Kindness Project

Remember that book Carin Goldberg told us to get?

Now is a good time to read it. Especially after a grueling semester of nonstop thinking. It might even prepare you for next semester’s work onslaught. 

Frank sent me this beautiful poem

Please Call Me by My True Names

I have a poem for you. This poem is about three of us.  
The first is a twelve-year-old girl, one of the boat  
people crossing the Gulf of Siam. She was raped by a  
sea pirate, and after that she threw herself into the  
sea. The second person is the sea pirate, who was born  
in a remote village in Thailand. And the third person  
is me. I was very angry, of course. But I could not take  
sides against the sea pirate. If I could have, it would  
have been easier, but I couldn't. I realized that if I  
had been born in his village and had lived a similar life  
- economic, educational, and so on - it is likely that I  
would now be that sea pirate. So it is not easy to take  
sides. Out of suffering, I wrote this poem. It is called  
"Please Call Me by My True Names," because I have many names,  
and when you call me by any of them, I have to say, "Yes."

Don't say that I will depart tomorrow -- 
even today I am still arriving.

Look deeply: every second I am arriving 
to be a bud on a Spring branch, 
to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings, 
learning to sing in my new nest, 
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower, 
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry, 
to fear and to hope.

The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death 
of all that is alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing 
on the surface of the river. 
And I am the bird 
that swoops down to swallow the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily 
in the clear water of a pond. 
And I am the grass-snake 
that silently feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones, 
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks. 
And I am the arms merchant, 
selling deadly weapons to Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl, 
refugee on a small boat, 
who throws herself into the ocean 
after being raped by a sea pirate. 
And I am the pirate, 
my heart not yet capable 
of seeing and loving.

I am a member of the politburo, 
with plenty of power in my hands. 
And I am the man who has to pay 
his "debt of blood" to my people 
dying slowly in a forced-labor camp.

My joy is like Spring, so warm 
it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth. 
My pain is like a river of tears, 
so vast it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names, 
so I can hear all my cries and my laughter at once, 
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names, 
so I can wake up, 
and so the door of my heart 
can be left open, 
the door of compassion.

~Thich Nhat Hanh

TRUTH

I have not been so kind lately.

I have been selfish, self-absorbed, lazy, narrow-minded, and totally out of sync with the world and this project. I am writing this because I think being honest about my progress is infinitely better and more kind than ignoring the fact that I haven’t been completely committed to this project this past week. Or lying about it. Because I let school occupy almost all of my time and mind space. Because I was scared, nervous, and overwhelmed by the amount of work I needed to do. So I let all else go to hell. And I stopped paying attention to other people and focused all of my energy on taking care of myself. Actually, not really taking care of myself because I stopped going to yoga, increased intake of energy drinks to prevent onslaught of sleep, and resorted to stress eating to make it through my all-nighters. With all this going on, kindness started to become a chore. And I’m afraid that the hope, fire, and passion that had fueled this mission in the beginning is starting to dim. 

It has taken me a long time to realize this and even longer to do something about it. Writing this blog and being honest with myself and the public is my first step. I was meditating on this. I realized that I need to be kind to myself first before I can be kind to others.

It’s good to have good friends

Friends keep you company when you don’t feel like being alone.

Good friends comfort you and care for you when you are feeling your absolute worst.

My friend Annie and I helped each other tonight. We both had mini panic attacks from having too little sleep and too much work. But instead of suffering through it alone, we decided to have dinner together and talk. And we left with our bellies and hearts full.

It’s good to have someone you can talk to you. And it feels even better to be able to talk to someone else and help them through a difficult time.

I realized today just how important it is to have a friend like Annie. Annie, you rock! Thanks for making me feel better, and I hope I did the same for you!

The Ultimate Good Deed Cliche

I helped an old lady grab toilet paper from the top shelf.

It was awesome!

Thank You!

for the air in my lungs, for being able to walk and wiggle my toes, for being in New York and getting to study and pursue my passion, for my amazing and supportive family, and my friends who make me laugh and who I occasionally creep out with my weirdness. But they take it anyway because that’s part of their job description. Thank you for teachers and awesome talented people in this world that I look up to and inspire me to further than the limits of my capacity and imagination. Thank you for this wonderful gorgeous day, a nice comfortable home, and a bed to sleep in. Thank you for every single tiny detail that makes up my life. Thank you for love and kindness and giving me an outlet to express myself. 

Thank you for reading.