On The Subject of Kindness and Other False Dichotomies (And Also a Registry Link)

Years ago I worked with a talented life coach, Jena Schwartz, who's a badass coach, poet, mama, activist and general exceptional human.  Jena had me do an activity in which I listed my top values for myself in concentric circles, the most important -or core value- at the center.  I imagine this exercise is challenging for some people, but I knew immediately that my core value for myself is kindness. 

Why kindness?  Other than the fact that I feel this weird affinity for the concept ... wait, no.  That is the reason.  But my point is, my concept of kindness has grown and shifted as things do, and perhaps should, with life.

So, what is kindness?  

I'd like to break here simply to share that if you look up that phrase in Google image search you come up with results that make me squirm because I'm very uncomfortable witnessing most other peoples' touchy-feely, Mr. Rodgers, soul stuff.  The only thing I personally feel modesty around is soul stuff/spirituality. 

Faithfulness is definitely not cherries... 

Does it though?  Is kindness the microwave to souls?

I'm not actually going to try to define kindness, we define it how we do, and frankly, I don't define it easily like these clichés.  I am going to  point out that the concept becomes tricky in considering the direction of the emotion or act.  

Early in life, kindness is something we teach children to do to others.  Perhaps that's because children are naturally self-centered, and we want them to learn empathy.  Somewhere along the line, some of us realize we took that too far and there's this concept of kindness to yourself.  Then, like many things we try to perfect and never quite get, we get feedback that sends us back and forth between leaning too far towards kindness to others and kindness to ourselves in turn.

And then, maybe we realize that kindness isn't actually an either/or, zero sum game.  There are ways to be kind to myself and kind to others, and often both at the same time.  And too, that doesn't mean that those others will always feel good about what happens.

The sellers of our home closed when they said they would, on July 15th.  They suggested when Chris and Melissa did the walk through, that they would only stay the 14 days we'd given to them without cost.  It never really turned out that they gave us a definitive two weeks notice as they were told to do through the contract, but really, it's not like we're ready to move in anyway.

They left at noon Wednesday, July 28th, and Melissa needed to give us the keys at that time because she had, as usual, a very busy schedule.  

The seller left a kind note about such useful things as when the garbage needed to go out, where to put the cans, his pattern for filling the water tanks, and his phone number in case we ran into issues.  They also left us a bamboo plant.  Which was nice.

I believe bamboo is supposed to signify luck

They were true to their word that they would not have the home professionally cleaned.  Our hope was that, like most people would, they would perform an exit cleaning.  And really, when I walked in Melissa was soaking up small puddles on the floor with paper towels, and she wondered if they'd literally just left and had mopped just prior.  So... the floor was moderately clean.  The window blinds, sills, laundry machines, walls, closets, and toilets were not.  (Although the poo stains were gone, which makes me happy.)

Front door

Freezer

Turned out there was also dog poo in many desiccated piles in the driveway, cigarette butts in the fire drum they left in the front, two rusted and decrepit chairs with broken supports in front of the house, a cushioned roll-y chair behind the tree in the yard sinking into the dead leaves, a wheel barrow and some garden tools in or around the shed, a wooden screen and a discarded shelving unit left on a pile of stones in an area that clearly was meant to be a bonfire.

Kind?  Some... provided we wanted those things.  Not kind?  Yeah, we don't want those broken chairs and the "free" firewood (frankly, that area is now Chris's archery range, not a bonfire place).  Does the concept of kindness even apply here?

These are rhetorical questions because all that's important is our response.  But then arises the question, what's a kind response?  We did reserve a $500 deposit in escrow for potential issues after move out (because Melissa is smart).  Melissa pointed out that, if we ever want to take this guy up on calling him with housing questions, we might not want to annoy him.  But too, it's very dispiriting to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on anything and find it yucky when you go to check it out.  Like, "Here now, this cobwebby bit of wall-snot is worth $3,000.  And this grunge in the washing machine is at least worth $250."  

But then, we can't fit three decrepit and potentially bug infested chairs in our hatchback, nor a shelving unit to take to the dump.  And we have a lot of work to do anyway on the house.  A few trips to the dump weren't in the plan.  

Melissa did her remarkable research thing that keeps the world turning (I'm certain she's responsible for that too), and found that a trash disposal company would charge up to $228 to pick up the chairs and shelves.  She suggested to us that we have her communicate that to the sellers' agent plus $25 for the dog poop.

What about ticking off the guy?  Well, kindness doesn't mean you don't tick people off, oddly.  Sometimes not ticking someone off means you value keeping them open so they'll make a change you want.  And sometimes it means you're more uncomfortable with discomfort than kindness. Chris pointed out that we oughtn't look at this situation like we can't deal with a house.  There's always someone you can call and pay to figure out whatever issue there is.  Everyone wants to save money by being able to call "a friend," but this guy isn't our friend even if he did kindly leave us a means of contacting him if needed.

Still, I got a bit tied up with the kindness factor, or maybe it was the discomfort with discomfort factor.  $228 is much more than I figured dumping some stuff would be.  I didn't want to ding the guy unnecessarily.  But then, what's necessary?  What is kind?  And to whom?  

My concerns were mostly solved by the fact that the response from the sellers' agent was that the guy had intentionally left us the chairs so we could sit and watch ... the road (or something).  And also they didn't stop the trash service until the end of this month.

How'd that solve my qualms?   Well look, these chairs were 1. clearly not able to be broken down to fit in a trash bin and 2. they were obviously broken.  Not a little broken.  Like, you'd have to balance carefully to sit on the metal ones and risk insect crawlies and mold to sit on the roll-y chair.  It's possible that this guy convinced himself that he was doing us a favor (by saving himself a trip to the dump), but you know what's actually kind?  Asking us what we want him to do with the trash he's considering leaving behind.  Not making us out to be the monsters who want to charge him for his benevolent kindness.  Nor using kindness as a ruse for manipulation.

I haven't convinced myself that he knowingly or intentionally meant to manipulate, but when it comes down to it, that trash needed to be where trash goes and who is responsible?  He is.  By contract.  (Melissa found where in the contract it states that, because Melissa.)

I'm sure he doesn't feel this is a kindness from us.  I'm not sure how much of this response made it to him, but I did write out what I thought was a kind response to his "kindly" leaving us garbage treasure.  After ranting for a while, I wrote (to Melissa for the conveying), 

"Oh gosh.  What a thoughtful gesture.  Unfortunately, since you didn't ask us, or ask your agent to communicate with us, about what we can use, there are some things that are there that we need to get rid of.  Absolutely it makes sense that some people would want those 3 chairs and some firewood.  If you have a friend in the area who would like them, they can come get them at no charge any time in the next week.  Otherwise, we'll need to have a service come pick them up as we decided before.  Thank you so much for your thoughtfulness though.  Let's see if we can make it work so we don't need the trash service."

I recognize that my response was a little manipulative too, which is unkind.  It's a bit sarcastically sweet while pointing out how I think he should have done this.  But too, it seemed to me that offering him an out of having a friend "who wants that stuff" come get it, was a relatively polite way of trying to save him money and avoiding calling his former possessions "trash."  The fact that the response from the agent was to have the service come get the stuff suggests to me that someone either didn't want to deal with this, or he doesn't have allies in the area to call on, or he knows no one wants that trash.

So was this kind to us?  Was it kind to him?  No, but it didn't lack kindness in my opinion.  It hovered in some neutral space where two parties wanted different things and needed to come to a resolution without being actively unkind.  I think we mostly achieved this.  Would he agree?  I doubt it, but this is what makes kindness a fascinating subject to me.

I was just commenting to my godmother (Amy-the-Awesome), that I used to think my patience has waned as I've aged.  It's possible I could too say this about my kindness.  But I actually see it now as being willing to put up with less bull.  It doesn't mean I'm going to be a jerk, but I'm not going to receive it like your pile of dung is a gold nugget.  Especially when those "nuggets" are all over my new driveway.  This is part of being kind to myself.

Regarding the grime, Chris said we should hire someone/s to clean our new house.  This is rough for me, a New Englander.  You don't hire someone to do something you could well do yourself, and it would be lazy and frivolous to even consider it!  But Chris has a good point.  We're going to feel negatively about the new house if we have to spend a whole day cleaning each annoying bit of it feeling more and more irritable as we muck out the slime of other peoples' years.  And also, we have a home to clean.  It's the one we're currently living in.  And also, we have to move.  And also, I can't help much.

Yes, I went to see Dr. Lizard for a follow up on my incisions last week.  (Original post re: Dr. Lizard.)  My first question to him was "So, I know I'm allowed to pick up things heavier than 20lbs (9kgs) now, but I need to know when I can start exercising.  Because we're moving in a few weeks and we have a 200lb bed."

He looked at me, licked his eyeball, and said "No!" in a tone no one could mistake for anything but "My, aren't you the dumbest sheep that ever baaaah'd?" So, I can't help lift a lot of the heavy stuff for moving.  And this too, is part of being kind to myself.

Or rather, helping myself be okay with not lifting the 200lb bed is part of being kind to myself.  Simply not doing the lifting is only taking care of myself (by not getting a hernia).  And helping ourselves be okay with things that are difficult... that is an application of kindness.

On an unrelated note, if you were interested in the registry I keep meaning to make, I started it.  The site, although it allowed me to make a "house warming" registry, seems to necessarily think that all their pictures should indicate marriage, and at that, largely heterosexual ideas of it.  So, I chose this picture on which you can click...

And if that doesn't work, you can try this non-picture link, or the good old go to Myregistry.com and look under my full name (first and last).  Notes that my last name begins with S not A.

Again, gifts not necessary, but if you have the desire and means, here are ideas.