On being present
I forget which one of you wonders posted this the other week, but it's stuck with me ever since:
I quote tweeted it with this:I’m speechless. Delivered in a sealed envelope and she ran before I could read it. pic.twitter.com/ufU1MMHwcT
— Amy Milstead (@amyomilstead) March 31, 2022
I've often written about kindness. But today I want to address what allows people like me to do our work, even when we're not feeling particularly empathetic: being present.#librarytwitter What we do is important. Even life-altering and life-saving. https://t.co/rJbW6iNTXx
— Liberal Librarian (@EstablshmentBar) April 1, 2022
Being kind comes naturally to most people. But being present is harder. Being present, focusing on the person at hand, when you're distracted or daydreaming or dealing with your own problems, is hard. Being present and giving of yourself when you feel you have nothing to give is a struggle.
But if you're going to serve the public, of whatever age, that's what you have to be. Being present masks when your well of kindness is empty or near empty. Being present means that you're making the effort to see the person with whom you're dealing as fully human, to be listened to and attended to, and not just another nuisance to be rid of.
I'm not debating the relative value of kindness versus presence. I see them as different sides of the same coin. They complement each other. They feed off each other. When your kindness is in its full flower, being present comes naturally. But you can also be kind and yet oblivious to what your interlocuter is saying. Being kind isn't enough. Being kind without being present can lead you to not hearing what the other person is saying.
Being present is being actively kind. Not just kind in a superficial way; combining presence with kindness means that you can see the other person, you can hear the other person, you can acknowledge the other person's needs and views. A just society is nothing more than one in which kindness and presence dominate, placing human needs at the center of every interaction, rather than working from some rigid ideology. Political or economic or social theory can say what I should do, according to formulas. They don't tell me what I need to do, so that I honor this other person.
I'm sure Amy Milstead is kind. But she must have her down days. What she remains is present for all the children who rely on her. She doesn't take her anger or sadness out on them. She gives of herself when she thinks she has nothing to give. Because people who rely on you will always trigger that need to help them, even when you think you're the one who needs help. And it's noticed.
Be kind. Be present. If you can swing those two things, well, that's all of a good life right there.