Choose Kindness, Even When It’s Hard

JANUARY 3, 2025

Choose Kindness, Even When It’s Hard

Forget resolutions. Forget “New Year, new you.” What if, instead, we moved into the New Year with kindness? Not surface kindness, but kindness that goes deep—kindness that creates space for understanding, even when things get messy.

Recently, I parked somewhere I shouldn’t have for just a quick stop. I wasn’t blocking traffic or pedestrians, but I knew better. Someone honked at me, parked nearby, and then walked over to tell me how wrong I was for parking there.

I responded defensively with words I wish I hadn’t said. My final statement to him, repeated with an elevated voice, was, “You don’t even know. You don’t even know.”

And he didn’t know. But the truth is, neither did I. None of us ever really know what someone else is going through at any given moment. I wasn’t in his way, so why did he need to confront me? When he confronted me, why did I feel the need to engage?

When I sat with it later, I started thinking about how defensive we all can be. The world often feels so divided—always choosing sides, always looking for what’s wrong with the other person. There’s this underlying need to prove ourselves right, to say, “See, I told you so,” or to point out what someone else has done wrong. And where does that really get us?

For me, that exchange over the parking only reinforced a message I’ve carried for years: I am too much. Too reactive. Too sensitive. Too emotional. Although on repeat much less often now, this is a story that has played in the background of my life and sometimes still feels impossible to escape. That moment wasn’t about his judgment; it was amplifying a message or story I was already telling myself.

One of the most meaningful things Yoga has taught me is to pause and reflect when these stories come up, even if that pause only comes after the situation or reaction. In fact, sometimes, it is the very intensity of our reaction to a situation like this that lets us know there is something more there for us to sit with.

Patanjali, a sage who codified yoga over 2,000 years ago in the Yoga Sutras, offers a compelling framework for understanding the mind and finding peace. In the Yoga Sutras—a collection of 196 short verses—Patanjali explains the foundation of Yoga practice is ultimately about ceasing the relentless fluctuations of the mind.

In reality, yes, it would be impossible to stop the mind— it is always busy thinking, analyzing, and judging. Just as the lungs breathe and the heart beats, the mind also thinks. This is simply how we were built. While we may not be able to “stop” this process, we are invited to notice our thoughts for what they are, however challenging, and let them pass without attaching to them or allowing them to take over. Easy said than done, I know!

Michael Singer, in The Untethered Soul, describes the mind as a roommate who never stops talking, often gives bad advice, and refuses to sit still. He says that if our minds were actual roommates, we would’ve kicked them out a long time ago. Dr. Blustein adds that we have about 100,000 thoughts a day, and over 85 percent of them are repetitive. No wonder we get stuck in cycles of doubt, frustration, shame, or, in my case, feeling like I’m “too much”.

One of the first and most essential tools Patanjali offers as part of his Eight-Limbed Path for treating the fluctuations of the mind is ahimsa—non-violence or non-harming. But ahimsa isn’t just about refraining from harm—it’s about actively choosing kindness. Not just for others but for ourselves.

Kindness begins within. It’s not about doing more or being more—it’s about creating space for understanding, choosing differently when possible and forgiving ourselves when we don’t. In the parking situation, the most significant transformation for me came when I finally sat with my reaction, recognized my patterns, and offered myself kindness. I have these behaviours or reactions that I’d like to shift, but they don’t make me “too much.” I forgave myself for reacting. I forgave him, too. We were both just acting out the thoughts and stories we carry.

Yoga can guide us in noticing those stories, seeing where they came from, and sitting with them without judgment. Yoga isn’t about fixing what’s broken; it is about knowing that you are whole already—and that nothing you do can undo that. Yoga reminds me that my thoughts aren’t the truth or totality of who I am. Yoga reminds me of something more profound: I, as I am, am not too much. I, as I am, am precisely right.

This New Year, you may resolve to do 10 push-ups a day, drink more water, and eat healthier, which are all excellent things. Yet one of the most meaningful things we could all do is practice ahimsa (if you’re interested in getting started with an ahimsa practice, see below). Imagine if we could all deepen an inner kindness that allows us to see the light within ourselves and meet that light with compassion, especially when life feels messy.

As we move into January, let’s perhaps leave the pressure of resolutions behind and focus on creating harmony—in our thoughts, in our actions, and in the way we treat ourselves and others. One breath, one moment, one choice at a time. You are enough. You belong.
Happy New Year!

New Year’s Ahimsa Practice

Sankalpa is a Sanskrit word that means intention or resolve.

Rather than setting a goal or striving to “fix” yourself, a sankalpa is a declaration—a mighty shout-out to who you truly are. When practicing ahimsa, a sankalpa can be very helpful in bringing the essence of kindness into your thoughts, words or actions.

You may choose a sankalpa that resonates with you or use this powerful affirmation:

I am whole. I am love. I am enough.

In moments or situations as I’ve described above, try these simple steps:

1. Pause and notice. Even if it’s long after the moment, take time to reflect. What’s happening in your body? In your breath? Anything that is consuming us is worth noticing—to release it.
2. Reflect on the story. What patterns or beliefs are showing up? Let curiosity guide you.
3. Reconnect to your intention. Declare your Sankalpa. Choose a truth that feels right: “I am steady,” “I am whole,” or “I am love.” Take the time to embrace this and let it in. Even just a little. Small, consistent steps can lead us in a whole new direction.