Afloat on an Ocean of Kindness
For the past 30 years, I spent most of my time with the mayors and council members that I worked for and with the investment bankers and securities lawyers that I worked with.
Some of the nicest people I ever met were clients in places like Brownsville or Eagle Pass. Still, most of my clients and colleagues were “hard-working” or “smart” or “trustworthy” more than they were “kind” or “nice.” (I worked in the finance industry, after all.)
A year ago, I used to say things like, “The people at the children’s hospital are so nice,” almost as if I had washed ashore on an island of kindness amidst an ocean of indifference.
After spending a lot of time at children’s hospitals, homeless shelters, methadone clinics, tax preparation sites, and veterans centers, I saw that most of those people were nice, too.
Now, I say “People are so nice, and I met some more of them at the children’s hospital.”
Slowly, I am realizing that I spent much of my life marooned on an island of indifference amidst an ocean of kindness, and I am resolving that if I again find myself in such a place, then I will vote myself off the island, at once.