through soft eyes

looking to be kinder

The storm didn’t seem like that big of a deal. It was barely raining on the way to the airport, and even as the drops coated the windows of JFK, it seemed like a pretty tame thunderstorm, only a few strikes of lightning. Yet, the precipitation was enough to alter the schedules of seemingly every plane in the airport, pushing every departure back by hours and hours. 

I was finally heading back to SF after a month in NYC, and as much as I was dreading leaving the city, staying in the airport for an extra three hours wasn’t very appealing either. But as my parents told me that they felt bad for me, knowing I’d reach home at 3AM, I didn’t feel particularly affected by any of it. It wasn’t ideal to have to subsist on overpriced and barely edible food throughout the terminal and scroll on my phone endlessly, but I couldn’t find it within myself to get frustrated or upset about it either. Maybe I’d unlocked the Buddha nature — suddenly too enlightened to find frustration in these small moments, but the Buddha probably wouldn’t be compulsively scrolling Twitter in this situation either.

I people-watched silently, listened to music, looked at the internet, and let the time pass. The liminality of an airport is appealing in a way — a place where no one is really at ease or comfortable, just trying to pass the time and keep sane without losing anything or missing a flight. You could see the tiredness on everyone’s faces as the hours ticked by, from families to workers to children. When boarding finally started, people were mostly quiet, even as the chipper flight attendant welcomed us aboard. 

However, in my row on the plane, a father with his family had plenty of positive energy to spread, complimenting people’s shirts and making small talk with those waiting in the aisles to get to their seats. He was friendly and relaxed, and the positivity seemed to spread to those he spoke to, and to me as well. From the row behind us, I heard his daughters doing the same thing, casually chatting with strangers in passing in the same way. During the flight, he made sure that the flight attendant didn’t skip my drink order, and everything just felt more pleasant. I was too tired to really make conversation, so I never really did, even as I appreciated how he made parts of the flight feel easier in this subtle way.

I’ve always been jealous of people like this, wishing that I could spread positive energy so easily. I used to think that there was an inherent, predisposed difference between me and everyone else — that no one else felt ill at ease whenever they had to speak to another person, that no one else struggled to find the words in random interactions, regardless of how casual or low stakes they were. Were they always like this? Maybe some were, and maybe others had to slowly learn how to bring joy in this way.

One of the workers at my favorite corner store by my apartment in SF has a German accent and used to feel a bit curt during interactions. A few months ago, I noticed that he was smiling more at customers and would try to make conversation, although a bit clumsily. Every interaction was the same, starting with him saying the phrase “a little ___ for ya?” before each transaction, subbing in whatever the customer was buying. I was last in line and got to hear three different versions of it (drink, snack, beer), and couldn’t hold back my smile the whole time. And today, after feeling exhausted from poor sleep and a bit grumpy from being home all day, I saw him again for the first time in a while. As I checked out with my lentil chips and bottle of green juice, getting to hear “a little chip time for ya?” felt numinous, illuminating.

The phrasing was clunky, but the energy was positive, and he brightened my day a bit, just like the man on the plane. He wasn’t always good at interacting with customers this way, but he had gotten better and would only continue to get better. And at the same time, I wonder if other people would receive it this way. If I had been in a bad mood the first day when I heard the same phrase repeated, would I have been annoyed by the redundancy, his lack of apparent self-awareness? Would returning to the store today just trigger rage instead of joy?

But I was in an open-minded enough mood to receive his words as kindness, gather joy from them. They inspired me to try and share positive energy as well, which I did imperfectly as well, complimenting someone’s sweatshirt while running past them in the park. Often, I find myself keeping compliments to myself, afraid that I’ll come across as strange or interrupt an important moment. Propelled by the man at the store, these thoughts didn’t arrive, just the idea that people like to receive compliments. I don’t know how it affected the person, since I was already off and running before I saw their face (though I did hear a thank you!), but it felt like a positive experience.

The great realization is this: when you can make a favorable interpretation of a stranger, the world seems to be a kinder place. And when you see the world as a kind place, it’s easier to imagine others interpreting you favorably as well, rather than judging you for no reason. The freedom from judgment lets you be more of yourself, whether that’s talking to strangers or simply walking around with a lightness that improves the energy of a room. 

When I default to judging strangers for what they’re wearing or how loudly they’re talking or anything like that, I find myself distant from everyone around me, more self-conscious. When I seek to appreciate the effort someone puts into their clothing or how much fun a group of friends is having, I feel more connected to them, to everyone around. Judgment feels like separation and kindness feels like connection, and each begets more of the same.

I am inspired by these small interactions with these strangers, those who have no idea that they impacted me at all. So, I want to foster more of this kind energy, be more comfortable connecting and speaking with strangers. Most people are a bit awkward and uncomfortable when interacting with people they don’t know, but I’m sure many of them are like me: appreciative of random bits of small talk and interaction that can make the world seem less drab. I’ve written about strangers impacting me before, but now I want to be more like the ones that changed me — generous with my conversation, a luminous source of good energy. It’s not something I’m good at; it might not be something I’m ever good at, but I glow even from the efforts of strangers. I may not find the words immediately, but the world is a kind place full of kind people, and I’m sure we will figure it out together.

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We must do what we can to push back against the genocide in Gaza. Consider calling your US representatives to support de-escalation and a ceasefire, donating to Care for Gaza (a grassroots organization delivering food to Palestinians), directly to families or by buying e-SIMs to keep folks connected to their families.

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💧 Drops of the Week 💧

• PLAYLIST - reloaded - 90s/00s club music!

• POEM - “The Quiet World” by Jeffrey McDaniel - In an effort to get people to look / into each other’s eyes more