Can We Measure Kindness?

Today I'm excited because I found this in my inbox.

It's a teaser for this post that I wrote for my friends at Character.org.

I've been thinking about kindness a lot lately, especially with how

divided and dark society seems socially and politically.

When we chatted, they told me about Kindness.org and their quick questionnaire to measure our KQ (Kindness Quotient). That piqued my interest so I took the assessment and ... I scored an 83.

My initial reaction was, wait, what?

But as I dug in, it became clear that there are some hurdles

that can easily get in the way of my kindness crusade.

This made me think of Houston Kraft, a well-respected Kindness Advocate.

So I googled him and, sure enough, there was this chat

with the co-founders behind the KQ research.

I've heard Houston say many times that kindness isn't free.

If you haven't read his book, Deep Kindness, check it out

Turns out, there's even a book by Jerome K. Jerome,

written in the early 20th century called The Cost Of Kindness,

so clearly how much kindness costs is an age-old mystery.

In my guest post, I break it down as I try to figure out

how I might get that score of 83 up a little.

It's not that I don't want to invest in kindness, I do. But it's a matter of my willingness to get past thinking that it's free and being willing to jump over those obstacles on our path to kindness.

Like time, comfort, energy, money.

I might have a passion for cats, but do I have the time and energy

to go to the local cat condos and clean out their litter boxes?

I might have empathy for people challenged by homelessness,

but is it out of my comfort zone to take a meal and eat with them?

I might want to donate to the local Blue Santa toy drive, but

what can I give up to buy that extra gift for a child I don't know?

Even holding the door for someone is an investment. It sounds simple enough and sort of free, but technically it's not, because it takes thoughtfulness, energy and time, and even a step out of our comfort zones, especially if we add a little conversation or stir in a touch of humor.

And at the end of the day, kindness is always worth it.

Sometimes it even boomerangs back. Right before Thanksgiving, I saw that one of my (former) students was baking and selling pumpkin bread to help defray the cost of her theater classes.

Since I make my own pumpkin bread regularly, we didn't really need any. Plus, we weren't even going to be in town for the holiday, so there's that. And yet, I felt this pull to help Logan out, so I ordered two loaves, to be delivered on the Saturday after Thanksgiving when we got back. Sure enough, that evening I got a message that they had been delivered and were on our front porch bench. I responded that I needed her Venmo so that I could pay. When they didn't respond, I searched and found it so I could not only pay, but send along a little extra to help her out. I do love a good musical! The next day, they wrote me back to say that they'd meant the two loaves to be a gift, for all of the encouragement and support that I'd given them over the years. A really yummy win-win!

💜💛

What does kindness cost? To me, it doesn't matter, because the return on my investment is almost always more than I paid. Oh, and my body and brain think so, too. Whether I give it, receive it, or witness it, I get a healthy dose of feel-good hormones.