You may know the story. Perhaps somewhat hackneyed,
One day, a young girl was
walking along a beach, picking up starfish that had been washed ashore and
throwing them back into the sea. An older man saw her and said, “There are
miles and miles of beach, and hundreds of starfish. You can’t make any difference.”
The girl picked up another starfish, threw it back
into the ocean, and replied, “It made a difference to that one.”
Image generated with the assistance of Microsoft Copilot
Bienveillance: A Compass for Life
Several
years ago, while embarking on my journey through an MA in Creative Writing, I
made a heartfelt vow: my writings would always strive to illuminate the
brighter aspects of humanity. This promise wasn't about viewing the world
through a glass darkly—life, after all, is a complex tapestry of light and
shadow. But I was determined that positivity would serve as my guiding
principle.
Recently,
during a moment of morning reflection, a particular word resonated with me: bienveillance.
This elegant French term defies a neat English translation, capturing nuances
beyond mere kindness or goodwill—it embodies an initiative-taking, almost
vigilant commitment to the welfare of others. Observing the discord often
rampant around us, I realized just how scarce this trait has become.
If
granted a single wish, it would be for a world infused with this quality.
Imagine a society, friends, family, and workmates that prioritizes
understanding over judgment, where compassion comes naturally, and actions are
taken not solely for personal gain but for the collective good. Longing for
such a world isn't naivety; it is, in fact, a vital necessity.
The
path to such a society doesn't begin with a desire for others to change but
with a personal introspection. How do I embody bienveillance in my daily
life? It's straightforward to romanticize the concept, yet quite another to
live it out. Am I patient with those who test my patience? Do I offer
generosity even when it's inconvenient? Can I see the best in people, even when
scepticism seems a safer bet?
Through
my writing, I strive to practice such qualities. Writing, I believe, have a
unique power to expand our empathy, allowing us to experience lives vastly
different from our own. They highlight our common humanity and the unspoken
struggles we all face. Even when my narratives delve into darker themes, my aim
is to uncover the resilience, love, and hope that persist.
However,
writing about kindness is not sufficient—I must also enact it. Recently, I
found myself hurrying past someone in obvious need of help. Caught up in my own
urgency, I almost ignored the moment. Yet, a nagging thought halted me:
"What kind of world do you want, and what are you actively doing to create
it?" I paused, turned back, and assisted. The task was minor helping someone
buy a meal for the evening.
bienveillance is not an unreachable ideal; it's
realized through countless small actions. Each act of kindness, no matter how
minor, contributes to a broader transformation. If we all embraced such
moments, allowing kindness to interrupt our routines, imagine how transformative
that could be.
I
often reflect on the Biblical directive to "love your neighbour as
yourself." This simple yet profound command requires deep self-reflection,
presupposing that we understand and appreciate our own worth enough to know
what love truly feels like. It challenges us to extend that same level of
compassion outward.
Like
the art of writing, this quality of goodwill to others is a skill honed over
time—a lifelong pursuit rather than a destination. While I may not witness a
utopia within my lifetime, I passionately believe that each gesture of kindness
sends ripples through the fabric of society, often in unseen ways.
So,
I commit to this: today, I will treat the next person I encounter with the care
I hope for in the world. Tomorrow, I will take another step. While human
kindness might seem elusive on a grand scale, it's a quality I can
nurture within my own life. In doing so, I can inspire others to follow suit,
one small step at a time.
