The Dalai Lama once wrote; “my religion is very simple, my religion is kindness.” “Always treat others the way that you want to be treated,” my mother used to tell me when I was growing up. This ran a close second to, “child, go comb your kitchen,”(the hair that grew above my neck, and always looked frizzy). “You’ll catch more flies with honey then you will with vinegar,” she also used to say. I don’t ever recall wanting to catch a fly, but I suspect that honey thing would have worked.

So I have always tried to treat others kindly. But from listening to the radio or watching the news, I hear daily, stories about man’s inhumanity to man, or people who are not nice to one another. Like so many other commandments, this golden rule has grown tarnished, and is showing signs of rust.

Now, I don’t know about men, but I suspect that most women have at one time or another, been on the receiving end of the ‘Mean Girl, or girls.’ You know, the ones who pretended to be your friend, but did everything they could to make your life miserable. Perhaps like me, you have been on the receiving end of what I call the ‘back-handed’ compliment: Like “you have such small feet for someone so tall.” What the heck does that mean? Also perhaps like me, you have found yourself caught between both worlds: of acting like them to gain acceptance, or going the other way and being made to feel like an outcast.

Call me a Pollyanna, but I like to think that most people don’t mean to be unkind. Folks simply have a lot on their minds. Like the woman who let the door slam in my face as we both headed inside the building where we both work. More than likely she was thinking about all the work piled up on her desk. Or about the crazy person who tailgated her for ten miles while talking on his phone.

Then I am reminded of the many acts of kindness that I have been the recipient of over the years; like all the cards and calls from the young people whom I mentor. I still remember the co-workers who came to my aid when I broke my ankle some years ago: the ones who ran ahead to hold the door for me as I struggled to remain upright on crutches, and hold the door at the same time. I also remember the ones who ran ahead and let the door slam in my face.

Today a steel plate and some screws are all that remain from my adventure in ‘break- dancing.’ Only on really cold days do I remember that I am now part bionic woman. Still that experience somehow changed me for the better. I no longer take walking or running for granted.  Nor do I hurry to try to get around someone in a wheelchair. Confucius once said, “forget injuries, never forget kindness.” Been there, done that.