Margaret Mead said,   "Never believe that a few caring people can't change the world. For, indeed, that's all who ever have." 

Welcome to the Soul Podcast. I'm Stacey Wheeler.

Today I’m going to talk about the science of good feelings. And how doing good is good for us. When we’re done, I’ll have something cool to share with you… something I know you’ll like. But don’t fast forward. Hang out a bit. Let me tell you a story… 

There’s an inscription on the base of a statue in the English town of Bedford which reads, “No white person has done more for South Africa than Trevor Huddleston” 

You’ve probably never heard of Trevor Huddleston… but there’s a good chance you’ve heard the name Nelson Mandela. 

You see, the words on the base of the statue are the words of Nelson Mandela. Mandela? He became the first black leader of South Africa. After being a political prisoner for 27 years, for raising a political movement to oppose his government’s segregationist policy, known as apartheid. All the time he was imprisoned, one of the most vocal advocates for his release was Desmond Tutu. 

Tutu was a South African Anglican archbishop.  And the first black Bishop of Johannesburg. Because of his role, he was able to become a loud voice in opposition of Mandela’s jailing…which led to a greater international outcry… until Mandela was finally released from jail. Would Mandela have been released if tutu hadn’t become a priest? Would he have gone on to become the first black leader of South Africa? It’s hard to say. But joining the clergy gave Tutu a platform he was able to use to make a difference for Mandela and for his country.    

Tutu was once asked to identify the defining moment in his life. He told the story of a day when he was nine years old, and he and his mother were walking down the street. He said a tall white man dressed in a black suit came towards them. In the days of apartheid in South Africa, when a black person and a white person met while walking on a footpath, the black person was expected to step into the gutter to allow the white person to pass and nod their head as a gesture of respect. But this day, before the young Desmond and his mother could step off the sidewalk the white man stepped off the sidewalk and, as they passed, he tipped his hat in a gesture of respect to her. Tutu had never seen a white man do such a thing. Tutu said, "I was relatively stunned at the time… It was something I could never have imagined. The impossible was possible.”

Later he learned that the man was Trevor Huddleston, an Anglican priest who was bitterly opposed to apartheid. It changed Tutu’s life. When his mother told him that Trevor Huddleston had stepped off the sidewalk because he was a "man of God," Tutu said that in that moment he found his calling. 

Tutu said, “When she told me that he was an Anglican priest I decided there and then that I wanted to be an Anglican priest too. And what is more, I wanted to be a man of God”.

They met a few years later when Tutu was admitted to the hospital for Tuberculosis and Huddleston visited him while he spent more than a year recovering. When Tutu’s joined the clergy, Huddleston became his mentor. 

There’s no way that Trevor Huddleston could have known the ripple effects his actions would have. But his kindness made a difference in the life of a stranger, a country, and an entire group of people in that country. 

Huddleston was kind to Tutu. Tutu was empowered to speak out in support of Mandela. Mandela was freed and made a difference in the lives of millions of people in his country. That the ripple effect of kindness.

And you know, Trevor Huddleston isn’t as rare as you might think. Here’s another story…

A Doctor was touring Tewksbury Institute in Massachusetts in the early 1900s, when, on his way out, he accidentally bumped into an elderly floor maid. They began to talk and -noting how long she’d worked there- he asked what she could tell him about the history of the place.

The maid replied, that she didn't think she could tell him anything about the history, but said she could show him something.

She led him down to the basement under the oldest section of the building. She pointed to one of what looked like small prison cells, "That's the cage where they used to keep Annie Sullivan."

"Who's Annie?" the doctor asked.

The maid explained that Annie was a young girl who was brought there because she was uncontrollable, and nobody could do anything with her. She said the girl would bite and scream and throw her food at people.  She said, the doctors and nurses couldn't even examine her. Annie was unruly and would spit and scratch at them.

At the time, the maid wasn’t much older than Annie. And she wondered how terrible it would be to be locked in a cage like that. She wanted to help Annie, but I didn't have any idea what I could do. Afterall, if the doctors and nurses couldn't help her, what could someone like her do?

The maid said that she decided to make Annie some baked treats one night after work. The next day she brought them in. She walked carefully to her cage and told Annie she baked the brownies just for her. She put them on the floor moved away because she was afraid Annie might throw them back at her. But she didn't. She actually took the brownies and ate them. After that, she said, Annie started to get softer when she was around. She was just a little bit nicer. Sometimes the maid would talk to her. Once, she said she even got her laughing.

The maid probably didn’t know what Annie had been through. He mother had died and her younger brother Jimmie and her, had lived in poverty until her father abandoned them to the poor house at Tewksbury. Shorty after they arrived Jimmie died. She was all alone in the world, partially deaf, partially blind, and emotionally distraught. No one understood her pain. The maid showed her a little kindness when she needed it the most.  They became closer each day.

One of the nurses noticed the way the two interacted and told the doctor. They asked the maid if she’d help them with Annie. She agreed. So, every time they wanted to see Annie -to examine her, the maid went into the cage first and explained and calmed Annie down and held her hand. Because of this the doctor was able to discover that Annie was almost blind…which explained a lot of her behavior. After moving Annie out of the basement and working with her for about a year, she was transferred to the Perkins institute for the Blind, where she was able to go to school. She learned and improved her ability to communicate using sign language. By the time she graduated she had decided to become a teacher for the blind.

Annie returned to the Tewksbury Institute to visit, and to see what she could do to help out. The Director remembered a letter he'd received. A man had written to him about his daughter. He said she was completely unruly—almost like an animal. She was blind and deaf. He said she was 'deranged.”  

He was at his wit's end, but he didn't want to put her in an asylum. So, he wrote the Institute to ask if they knew of anyone who would come to his house and work with her.

And that is how Annie Sullivan became the teacher and lifelong companion of Helen Keller.

Hellen became an author, disability rights advocate, political activist, and lecturer. She helped found the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU). Because of her influence she changed the way children, born deaf and blind are treated today. In her time, they were seen as disposable people and were called “deaf, dumb and blind.” Her story showed that lack of speech and sight didn’t make a person less valuable to society -or less of a person. Today, Helen Keller is seen as one of the most influential people of the 20th century. 

Eventually, Helen was nominated for a Nobel Prize. And a reporter asked her who had the biggest impact on her life, and she answered, of course, Anne Sullivan, but she was interrupted by Anne who quickly signed into her palm that the person who had changed both their lives, was a kind floor maid from the Tewksbury Institute. 

This floor maid didn’t do what she did because she thought it would have ripple effects. She did it because she had a kind heart. She could have never imagined that kindness was her super-power. A kind stranger can make a true difference. If she hadn’t been kind to Annie, would there have been anyone who could have known how to free Helen from her blindness and deafness? If Helen didn’t have Annie, who would have done the work Helen did… helping tens of thousands of blind and deaf people… and changing the way the world would treat the blind and deaf forevermore? 

Sometimes the smallest act of kindness can have a lasting influence. When a person is struggling or feeling minimized, the kindness of another person can have the power to change that life. 

Around 580 BCE, the Greek writer Aesop wrote, “No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.”

And the Dali Lama said, "My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness."

So why aren’t we more kind each day? Why do so many of us avoid eye contact or conversation? 

Fear is a core feature of being human. We tend to weigh our actions through the measure of fear. This is a deeply embedded survival instinct that goes back to our earliest levels of evolution. Where we once may have feared wild animals, enemy tribes or theft of food.. we now fear other things. Some tangible and others intangible…(really just projected fear).. a kind of “what-if” fear. “if I do this, than that might happen”… There are many reasons we fear being kind to strangers.

Here are a few of the common ones…

People may try to take advantage of our kindness.

People may perceive our kindness as weakness.

People might confuse our being nice with flirting. 

It easy to hold a few bills out at a stoplight for the person flying a cardboard sign… there’s little at risk here. It’s a short interaction. It’s transactional really. We feel good for helping them out and they feel happy about the money. But we don’t really connect with that person. There’s not enough time at a stoplight. And most of us don’t want to risk it anyway. So, we don’t connect. Not the way we would if we bought them a sandwich and sat with them a while. Or even the way we might if we said “good morning” to everyone you pass on your morning walk.

There is something powerful about sitting with another and listening to them. Hearing them and truly seeing them. There’s something about being seen that touches the Soul. 

We never know what good our words or actions may have. We can’t know what ripple effects may come from it. But we know it’s good for us to be kind. A 2018 Harvard study found that people who intentionally showed acts of kindness for a week, reported higher levels of happiness than those who didn’t. Kindness works for the giver and the receiver.

But kindness can be challenging for some of us. Maybe you’re one of those rare people who are comfortable talking to strangers. I know at least a few people like this. My oldest brother is like that. He’s got the ability to talk to anyone. He’s innately kind. He’s fearless in his friendliness... or at least he appears to be. If he’s uncomfortable talking to strangers, I can’t tell. 

I’m an outgoing guy, but I struggle with this. It’s an ongoing effort for me. Sometimes it’s just that I don’t feel social -so it feels forced when I try to connect with strangers. More often than not, the reason I avoid connecting is fear of having strangers misinterpret my intentions. 

Six years back I had an experience that taught me an important lesson about the way we see others. 

I was attending a weekend retreat at a hot spring in California. I’d gotten to the retreat center early because I wanted to mediate and drop into a softer heart space before the event began. It was held at a center in the forest and there were beautiful trails. So, I took a walk. I was standing on a footbridge above a stream, listening to the birds and the stream trickling. Dappled light was casting through the canopy of the trees and sparkling on the water. I felt utterly peaceful inside, breathing in the scents of the forest and listening to the stream.

About that time, a woman and her husband passed me on the narrow bridge. I nodded a hello but didn’t speak. I wanted to stay in my moment. 

We saw each other months later at another retreat… and after she got to know me better, she confided that when she first met me on the bridge, she thought I looked large and intimidating… and that I was much different than she had imagined me to be.   She was admitting to her own projections. That share was a gift to both of us. She realized that our projections are often based in fear -and often very wrong. Most people aren’t out to hurt or intimidate us. Most people are like us… we’re reserved based on our projected fears. 

The gift I got was that I realized that a tall, bald, white guy wearing a bandanna can look like an intimidating man to some people – even if he’s feeling immensely peaceful and listening to a stream trickle. 

I learned that a nod and smile is not the same as a “hello”, a “good morning”, or another kind greeting.  

If a stranger can see me as a tall, intimidating figure when I am at a high level of personal peace, than how many times have I been wrong in my assumption about people I pass on the street?

I still struggle with the fear that people may misinterpret my intentions -but I’m working on it. And I’m getting better at dropping my first impressions of strangers. 

Each time I intentionally say hello to a stranger I get more comfortable with myself. Being outgoing is a better place for me to be than wondering if a stranger worries about the tall guy walking towards them. A simple “good morning” can disarm that fear. It can also defuse fears I may carry, as I pass a person who looks intimidating to me. Usually when we say “Hello” to a stranger, they smile and return the greeting. And people I might think look ‘scary” suddenly become just like me. Just another person, trying to find a comfort level in how they interact with strangers. 

Do you struggle with being kind to strangers? Have you considered why it’s challenging? Our reluctance is usually based on a fear. 

Take a minute or two today. Sit with the question. Why aren’t you more outgoing. Consider how kindness has changed the lives I talked about today. If the kindness of a white man in South Africa and a floor maid at a mental hospital can make a difference… imagine the ripple effects your lovely voice might have. Find the space that’s a little challenging to you. Maybe it’s saying “Hi” to strangers in line at the grocery. Or “Hello” to people you pass on the street. Or maybe you’re more advanced. Maybe you’ll begin by being kind to a person who has been cast aside -like Annie Sullivan. We grow by leaning into our challenges. When we do, we expand. 

Today, lean into the kindness zone. And do it again tomorrow. And the day after… I guarantee it’ll make you feel good… and you can’t know what a difference it might make in the life of the person who receives the kindness you put into the world. 

Emory University has done extensive research on the science of compassion… Yeah, how about that. Compassion as a science. They developed CBCT (or Cognitively-Based Compassion Training), which is a system of contemplative exercises designed to strengthen and sustain compassion. The program is supported and promoted by the actor Richard Gere, who is a Buddhist and a meditator. This program is a self-paced, 21 day journey comprised of a video series featuring the 21-Day Compassion Challenge. 

I’ll share a link in the show notes. 

There’s a wonderful book about the life of Annie Sullivan and her lifelong friendship with Helen Keller. I’ll share a link in the show notes.