Kindness brings nothing.
Let’s think about it.
Since little I have been listening to adults preaching about how being always good, kind and silent will make you a respectful human being.
Sometimes I would go to the church. These orthodox sermons last for hours and I could not make it till the end, standing. The scents and the heat would make my sight blurry and the head heavy. I would have to run outside to breath. The stoic old ladies, would sting with their sharp looks.
Never understood a word the whole time. Every time. The sermon is not spoken, it is sung. The words are elaAAAAstiiiiiiic!
Did not understand why am I supposed to be there if I don’t get mesmerized or at least make sense of what is going on.
One time during Easter we went to the church to get the blessing. The priest was highly respected by my mother. I was afraid of doing something wrong, shy to present my worldly self in front of a church man, a mistake would bring the disrespect upon the entire clan. At one point he would make a cross on your forehead and ask your name, then feed you from a golden cup some sort of magic potion. His assistant, unusually the son of the priest on his way to create a better world, would clean your mouth with a (saint) cloth.
The priest was asking me something. I did not understand. He repeated. I did not understand again. It did not sound anything like-what is your name, daughter of god? No, it was something different, I could not make it out!
My response each time was-Amen! Amen! Amen!
He looked strange at me, gave me to swallow, the son of the sun cleaned my mouth and I was free to step aside.
Step aside into the world.
And you step outside into the fucking real world and you know nothing.You don’t know where to start from. Be good. OK, I got that. I am good, look I am good and kind and silent. I respect all the fucking rules. I keep silent when they bully me. I keep respecting the rules when they tell me to hunger and smile to the camera, make nice photos. I am kind when the Russian models talk about how fat and ugly I am, thinking that I can’t understand. I did not say anything. I respected the rules. I just let them stab me and watched the good blood fill the room, the streets, the whole fucking world.
I let them, and other “good” people, hurt me because I was good.
Why did I do that?
Because this is what I was trained to do.To suffer, to keep quite, to not ask, to not bother.
What I learned from the (brief) experiences with the church is something called obedience.The raw taste of displeasure made me want something else. The opposite of obedience is freedom of choice. And I wanted that. I want it even if it makes me not kind.
Yesterday was a fighting day. Another one in my collection. I am proud of all of them.
The little Italian and the Kind of the Jungle said that I did something wrong, some work related stuff. I was sure, that was not the case. And so I stood up, I went there and I spoke for myself. Returning to my workstation I searched for the solution. Found it and fixed the issue.
Earlier, not having been pushed to search deeper as to prove my innocence and, in that masculine environment, the ability of a female brain to think, I did not know the solution, did not know that I can solve this kind of problems.
Very often we are talking in the office about not having enough training, nobody to tell us how to solve the issues. Even I agreed on that and I felt the need of more preparation before being thrown to the wolfs. Check my articles dating a few months ago. I was talking to fear trying to keep it together.
What did I choose afterwards? What to do when having to deal with difficult colleagues, difficult clients talking to me in governing tones (because I was afraid and they felt it, reacted to it) and strange languages?? I chose to step it up and understand one basic thing – difficulties are part of the process.
There is no other way. Full stop.
After all, I came from a culture and a family where people build their own houses and everything inside with their own bare hands. I come from a place where having running water and a WC inside the house means luxury.We carried water in buckets from the neighbor’s well, for my whole childhood.You had to work for it. You are thirsty, go to the well.
This is how my right arm became so strong. Now, there is running water but the belief that the well water tastes better is strongly implanted in me, my family, people living there. We did not refuse to work because we knew that it is part of the whole freaking process of living.
After work, you can rest.
And this is how it goes.
Stop teaching your children or yourself to be good- the sheep style.
You are a human being and you can feel, you can even smell the real goodness and the moments when it is required or not. You have n time on your hands, given to you for a reason. The reason is to create your life knowing that there is good, there is bad, there is shit to be done, there are days when you have to work your ass off, there days when you will feel bad, weak and lonely. There is sadness, there is joy and love.
Other days you will feel at the peak of your game.There is hunger, death, wars ,in some part of this world, people are literally dying this very moment, there are others sunning under the Hawaiian sun or going to VIP parties. All of that exists. A lot is going on.
When you step outside the “church”, outside the way you were trained to behave, outside the false goodness- you have only yourself. Body, mind and soul with the seed of truth planted in it. And there is work to be done.
God, the Universe is good but not stupid. It is giving nothing if you don’t ask for it, if you don’t make some noise and make a decision to want something different. And want it for real, be ready to live it, manage it, deserve it.You say you want more money. Can you handle them? You say you want more love-do you know how to respond to it so that it does’t run away? You say you want freedom of choice- do you know what to choose and then what?
Then it gets even more interesting. Once the wish is fulfilled you find yourself wanting something else. And this is fine, this is fine. It is supposed to happen. This is how we develop. I am not, of course, talking about wanting new pairs of shoos, clothes, cars, houses. These are supposed to be on the set part of the scenario, to help, to make use of them and than leave them.
We are supposed to want different experiences or different minds.
Minds able to see the grandiosity of this project we are part of, able to choose a direction and to feel our way back to the light where we came from.