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I’ve been trying to be a better person and, to the degree that I avoid or ignore having my “buttons pushed,” I may be succeeding. Somewhat.
One can always be better, and when you declare yourself “good” and pat yourself on the back, that’s when you get lazy, you get careless and you do bad stuff. I try to stay alert to that danger.
I don’t mean to imply that I’m better or worse than other people or that I have unusually evil instincts that need suppression. I have always assumed that I am about average, and trying to be better is something any of us can and probably should do. Which brings me to the question:
Why be kind?
I would say that being good is its own reward. Being good feels good. It can help others to feel good. It makes the world — including your own world — a kinder, gentler place. Maybe it’s a little boring. After all, every interesting story is built around conflict and tension and, well, some badness. But no matter how successful you are at being good, you will always experience some badness and conflict. That’s just life. I often say: “You’ve got troubles? That’s how you know you are still alive.”
In our culture, however, being good isn’t, in itself, really enough. It may be almost irrelevant. We are interested in success, in wealth, in power, and in happiness. And maybe, in a moment of wokeness, we…
