Raphael: On kindness as a natural state.

More and more, I think of kindness not as something to learn, but as something we gradually return to. As if it was already in us, before we learned to defend ourselves, to be wary, to wear masks. True kindness is not helpfulness, not softness for the sake of recognition, not politeness as a social skill. It is a deep quality of presence. When a person is whole inside, he is kind without effort.

"No good deed is ever in vain."

- Aesop

When I feel collected, at peace with myself, I don’t compete, I don’t prove myself, I’m not afraid to be open. I just am. And in this “is” suddenly goodwill is revealed – quiet, simple, but strong. Not as a role. As a natural state.
But there are other days. When I notice: I don’t have the usual softness. I become different. Or, on the contrary, I close myself off, remain silent, avoid. In such moments, I try not to blame myself. I just ask for real: Why is it so hard for me to be kind now?

1. Kindness is not a weakness, but a form of inner strength

We have often been taught the opposite. That we must be tough, keep our distance, and not trust right away. But the more I live, the more I feel: kindness is not weakness. It is maturity. It is the ability to maintain contact with another, even if he is going through a storm.

"Kindness in words creates trust. Kindness in thoughts creates depth. Kindness in giving creates love."

- Lao Tzu

When I am kind, I do not disappear into another and do not push away. I am simply there. Calmly. Without fear. And when there is little resource inside me, it is more difficult for me to remain in this state. This is simply a signal: the internal battery is at zero.

2. Not kindness is often not about the other, but about overload

Sometimes my reaction seems different. I catch myself speaking with tension, or, on the contrary, retreating into silence. Then I remember: maybe it’s not the person in front of me, but that there is too much in me right now. It’s been too long without rest. Too many signals that I’ve been trying to respond to.

"When a man is angry, he punishes himself for the mistake of another."

- Seneca

Then I don’t try to “fix myself.” I just return to myself. To the body, to the breath, to the space. And in this space, there is room for kindness again.

3. Resentment is also a form of pain

If I don't allow myself to react openly, I close myself off. I retreat into silence. Into accumulated resentment. This is a quiet signal: I don't feel heard. And I myself don't dare ask for it.

"Resentment is a poison that we drink in the hope that the other person will be poisoned."

- Nelson Mandela

Sometimes kindness disappears not because I'm bad. But because I'm hurt. And I didn't immediately understand where. And in such moments, it's important not to put pressure on yourself, but to treat it with respect: to yourself, to your pain, to your need to be seen.

4. Honesty with yourself is the first step to return

I increasingly ask myself a simple but profound question: Why is it so hard for me to be kind now? And I try not to hide from the answer. It is not always pleasant, but it is always real.

Rafayel Arzumanyan

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