Kindness
Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
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
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and
purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.
Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
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
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and
purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.
By
Naomi Shihab Nye
The poem seems to say that an experience of adversity or loss is the prerequisite for kindness. While I would agree that experiences of pain and deprivation may strengthen one's character and empathy for others with similar backgrounds, I think of kindness as a moral choice that any person could attempt to pursue. To me,the pursuit of kindness is a conscious human effort borne out of an intellectual quest to figure out the meaning of life. In his hierarchy of needs pyramid, with which I agree, Abraham Maslow talks about different stages of human need. The highest stage of human need is self-actualization, which includes the pursuit of morality, avoidance of prejudice, creativity etc. I believe that kindness falls into this group. Can it be that kindness is not universally understood or accepted by rich and poor, young and old, sick and healthy? I hope not.
ReplyDeleteI find this poem to be so sad. I agree with Mish that a person can be intrinsically kind without having to experience pain or suffering first. I attended a women's retreat once and listened to so many stories the women told of pain and suffering, abuse, etc. When it came time to tell my story, I felt guilty that I really could think of nothing bad to say about my apple-pie life. The retreat leader/priest told me that there have to be people in this world whose lives have been all happiness so that they can share their abundance with others.
ReplyDeleteHow can you understand the truth of kindness if you have not known its opposite ?
ReplyDeleteDear Silver Hoody: Rather than understanding the truth of kindness by knowing its opposite, I think we CAN understand the truth of kindness when someone is kind to us. Don't we say that he/she SHOWED me kindness. We learn kindness from others' kind acts toward us. If we followed the poet's reasoning, that would be akin to teaching a child about the dangers of fire by putting her hand in it. Yes, sadly, some of us only have negative experiences from which to learn kindness. Often those negative experiences breed negative behaviors--anger and resentfulness not kindness.
ReplyDeleteHi Mish ,
ReplyDeleteI agree with you .
I am philosophically saying How can we BE kind in the first place if we have no conception of either kindness or unkindness? .We learn from the experiences of both as you say.
For me the poem is inviting me to raise my awareness of the contribution I make to those regions between kindness and unkindness as honestly as i can .I think the author is saying divest yourself of the past and in the moment ask what life would be without kindness by inhabiting the regions of that spectrum judging yourself .This we have all done in our comments.
"you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
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
between the regions of kindness."
Then in the final verse "Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore"
This P0EM raises my head to examine where I am (this tiny me) perhaps choosing kindness more often because I have read and reflected on it.
I really enjoy sharing views on our interpretations of these poems in a world littered with the casualities of our selfishness it good to make meaning of the creative work of others together .Thanks Stan the Man ;-)