Reading about kindness doesn't necessarily make us kinder. Neither does writing about it. 

It's how we apply what we read that matters.

I write about kindness a lot. You probably noticed. My new book (The Joy of Actually Giving a F*ck) is all about it. A journalist asked me if it's made me a kinder person. It's why I'm writing this blog today.

I hesitated at first, because it's not that being absorbed in the message has by itself made me kinder. It has helped, for sure. But it's more that immersing myself in research and writing about kindness has made me acutely aware of where I fall short.

It's OK to fall short sometimes. We're only human. And we're all just doing our best given the context of our lives and the events that have come before for us. Acknowledging this is a form of self-kindness.

That's why I often write, “Be kind… best you can.” Because we all f*ck up sometimes, despite out best intentions.

I was looking for a parking space not so long ago. I spotted one, easily big enough for two and a half cars. Then someone reversed right into the middle of the entire space. I couldn't believe it. 

I had had a bit of a rough day at that point. You know the fate. When we have rough days, it makes seeing things clearly a bit more difficult. I think we can all relate. That's how it was with me that day. I sort of forgot about the things I write books about. 

What did I do? I attempted to reverse into the wee bit of space left.

There's no way my car would fit. Absolutely no way.

I just wanted to make a point. So there I went, forward-reverse-forward-reverse, several times. Eventually, the driver nudged forward by a few feet and I managed to do a several-point turn and squeeze in behind him.

I could partially see him reflected in his rear-view mirror. I lifted my hands and shrugged my shoulders as if to say, “C’mon man, have a bit of respect for other drivers.”

Then my heart sunk as he got out of the car. He was a frail, elderly man, and it took an age for him to climb out with his walking stick in hand.

I felt absolutely terrible.

My Dad passed away a few months before this. He'd had a brain tumor. Before he was diagnosed, Dad had lost his confidence a bit. Always the very confident driver, he had started to park in much larger spaces than before. And he gave parked cars a wider berth when he was passing. We all thought it was just his age.

In that moment, I knew the elderly man had lost some of his confidence and that's why he took the extra space.

It was a solid reminder to me to always try to be kind because you never know what someone is dealing with.

Best you can.

Because you might be dealing with stuff too.

It's important to direct kindness towards ourselves too. Not instead of others, but in addition to others.

When we mess up, there's always this bit of a dilemma. On one hand, we berate ourselves for not living up to the mark we set ourselves. On the other, we know it's important to also be kind to ourselves. Beating ourselves up doesn't do anyone any good. 

We're all human, after all. And we can only do our best.

This experience made me kinder. It hit me hard and reminded me that, “Be kind because you never know what people are going through” isn't just a cute t-shirt design or a social media meme. It applies to life.

That's the thing. We can read words, but often it's the experience of what the words mean that really brings the message home.

That's how it sometimes is with me. And that's what I explained to the journalist.

The experience of falling short in my pursuit of kindness is what helped me be more sensitive to people's challenges. I think that's the way it tends to work in general. 

So be kind… best you can.

But don't give yourself a hard time if you don't manage so well. 

Next time!

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