the kindness contagion
(Raising Lovingkindness—Metta)
Your life is going to be a gradual process of becoming kinder and more loving: Hurry up. Speed it along. Start right now.
AUTHOR GEORGE SAUNDERS1
Two things can happen when we start a family. We can feel the deep connection and compassion for other parents across the world, or we can become tribal, fearful, and protective. Usually, it’s a combination of both. I still remember the incredible love I felt not just toward my son after he was born, but also toward everyone we encountered those first few weeks. Maybe it was the oxytocin flowing, but colors seemed brighter and birds sang more beautifully as I wandered about the world grinning dopily at strangers. But then, one afternoon, when a car didn’t stop at a crosswalk to let us pass, I experienced a blast of self-righteous indignation toward the driver that I’d never before experienced.
The same summer Leo was born, a new war ravaged yet another distant part of the world. The anguish on the faces of the parents as they searched rubble for their missing children was more immediate and acute to me than ever before. It occurred to me that those who were dropping bombs on cities surely felt that they were doing what they had to do to keep their own children safe. Becoming a parent helped me realize that underneath all of our differences, all creatures want more than anything to keep their families safe from harm. But how quickly the warmth and compassion we have for our children switches to fear and hatred of the other! And that’s what oxytocin is all about—at the same time that it’s associated with feelings of love and connection, it also relates to our experiences of jealousy, protection, and possessiveness—that “mama bear” or “papa bear” response. If there are indeed two sides of love, this chapter is about fostering the bright, hopeful, positive side through deliberate practices of lovingkindness (as opposed to lovingfear or lovinganger), knowing that fear, anger, and hatred will never be defeated with more of the same.
When we meet suffering, we’re all hardwired for a fight-or-flight response (which includes freezing and “forget it” reactions). Over time, these can lead to anger, avoidance, anxiety, or depression. Although these strong emotions can energize us into action, they just as often lead to our turning away from the suffering we meet in the world. When our greatest spiritual leaders first encountered suffering, however, it sparked a compassionate drive in them to free themselves and all others. No matter our conditioning, we can all turn toward suffering through the practices of mindfulness and compassion in a process that psychologist Shelley Taylor calls “tending and befriending,” rather than turning away.2
According to some Buddhist teachings, lovingkindness refers to the wish for all sentient beings—including our children’s other caregivers—and the natural world around them to experience happiness, whereas compassion refers to the desire that all other creatures be free from suffering. Like every tradition’s variation on the Golden Rule, compassion essentially means treating others—strangers and friends—how we want them to treat us. Although I won’t always make such a clear distinction in this chapter, the important point I want to convey is that whether we call it lovingkindness or compassion, they are qualities that Eastern philosophy and Western science agree we can cultivate in ourselves and our children with practice. They also agree that compassion training makes us happier, healthier, more productive, and—not surprisingly—more popular. Compassion-trained toddlers are more apt to share their stickers, be more flexible, delay gratification, and exhibit stronger scores on measures of executive functions.3
Some Eastern traditions teach that this change begins with ourselves. Putting ourselves first may feel a little strange to many of us. However, caring for yourself is caring for your child, because it all starts with us. This is where self-compassion enters the picture, especially for parents.
We all make mistakes. We all fall short of being the parent we thought we would or should be. There are moments when I hate myself after losing my cool, and I regularly reserve my most creative insults for myself when I forget to pack Leo’s snack or monkey. Unfortunately, self-hatred isn’t known for its ability to overcome self-hatred, which is why self-compassion is so powerful. Forgiveness begins with ourselves. Self-forgiveness and self-compassion do not make us weak or selfish, nor do they indicate that we have lowered our standards. In fact, research repeatedly indicates that they make us more resilient in the face of challenges, more willing to compromise and apologize, and more compassionate toward others.4 Even when we hold dark secrets and nearly unbearable regrets, we can still learn to practice lovingkindness, compassion, and forgiveness for ourselves.
reflection How has becoming a parent changed your attitude toward others in terms of compassion? Where has compassion come to you more naturally? In what ways have you encountered more limits to your compassion? What does self-compassion mean to you?
Here’s a practice that addresses some of the points above. I adapted it from ideas by Chris Germer, Kristen Neff, and Susan Bögels.4,5
PRACTICE Self-Compassion
Take a moment to sit comfortably and allow your eyes to close. Bring to mind a difficult situation in your parenting over the past few weeks—not too big, just something relatively small. What is the scene? Who was there? What were they saying or doing? Take a moment for the image to become clear. Then bring your awareness to all the sensations, emotions, thoughts, and judgments that come to you right now in the moment.
Take a few breaths. Then place a hand on your heart, cheek, or arm. Using your own name, say to yourself, “This is hard. This is a moment of suffering. I work to be a good parent, and I may not be perfect, but I am a good-enough parent.” Use whatever words work for you. Take a few more moments to breathe and feel the sensations, noticing any shift in your physical or emotional experience.
Finally, remind yourself in some way that all parents struggle. We all fall short of who we wish to be. We all make mistakes. That’s what makes us human, and that’s what connects us as parents. We all struggle and suffer in similar ways.
Take a few more breaths as you reflect on this. Then allow your eyes to open.
Personally, practicing self-compassion has helped me develop more compassion not just for myself but for others as well, including my own kids and parents. (As one particularly wise teen I see in my practice recently remarked, “My parents get the angriest with me when I make the same mistakes they did at my age.”) Having compassion for my own mistakes as a parent has helped me have more compassion for my own parents. As the old joke goes, “I used to be the best parent in the world until I had my own kids.” Becoming more compassionate for ourselves also builds resilience, equanimity, and determination—all qualities we want to foster in our children. How better to do this than to embody them ourselves?
reflection What are some ways you can practice and model self-care and self-compassion in your life? In what ways do you encourage self-compassion in your family?
The Research
To begin with, we are all born with the seeds—neurons and DNA—of lovingkindness and compassion. Babies become more upset when they hear other babies crying than when they hear a recording of their own cries; they soothe upset kids with a gentle touch or other offerings (a toy or bottle); and they even spontaneously help adults who appear to be struggling.6
Research also shows that empathy and compassion are good for us. Even the Dalai Lama, the embodiment of compassion, says that although compassion is great for the people we give it to, we ourselves are its primary beneficiaries. Kids who share in kindergarten are more likely to graduate high school and hold full-time jobs; those who don’t are more likely to struggle with mental health and other issues.7 Research also indicates that we get more happiness from cooperating than from competing. Kindness online pays off with more likes and compliments of others, leading to more social and business opportunities.8 Barbara Fredrickson, a researcher at the University of North Carolina, has found that just seven weeks of lovingkindness practice increases love, joy, contentment, gratitude, pride, hope, curiosity, and a sense of wonder.9 Lovingkindness practices also appear to help chronic pain, migraines, and symptoms of depression and PTSD.10,11,12 Practicing lovingkindness makes us more emotionally intelligent and empathic, with those feelings leading to concrete compassionate actions, such as generosity.13
Research also illustrates that using a soft voice and gentle touch with ourselves or others turns on empathy and connection—the “attend and befriend” response—which shuts off “fight or flight.” More friendships lead to better physical and mental health and even a longer life. Just holding a friend’s hand in times of trouble deactivates the brain’s fear response.14 We naturally give this type of gentle touch to our children, but we should remember its importance in helping our partners and friends, including ourselves. Holding hands—even with a stranger—quiets the pain response, as does the simple act of looking at a picture of a loved one. Showing affection, like hugs and kisses after a boo-boo, really does make us feel better, and giving a gentle hug or pat on the back can calm the nervous system.15
Richie Davidson and his colleagues at the University of Wisconsin spent years studying contemplative practices, including compassion and lovingkindness meditations. They found that meditators who viewed images of suffering had heightened activity in regions of the brain related to connection, caring, and nurturing. The nonmeditators in the study displayed more stimulation in regions associated with unpleasant emotions that led to avoidance and turning away from the pain.16 The group that practiced compassion meditation not only tolerated the viewed suffering better but also actively turned toward it with an apparent desire to alleviate what they saw. But even the nonmeditators in the study could be trained, in about a week, to increase activity in empathy-related parts of the brain. (It’s also been shown that merely practicing mindfulness will increase compassionate and altruistic behavior.17) Davidson also found that meditation appeared to lead to greater neuroplasticity—that is, the ability to change our brain structure. It also positively affects parts of the brain related to immune functioning and other important operations of the body.18
Cultivating Kindness
Sadly, empathy in our children has been on the decline since 1979.19 Today, 80 percent of middle schoolers report that their parents teach them that personal achievement is more important than caring for others.20 What’s happening here? Why is our culture facing a crisis of compassion?
Before we look at building compassion, let’s consider the conditions that hinder compassion and kindness. As discussed earlier in this book, too much screen time can cut down on social skills, emotional intelligence, and empathy. At worst, we make insensitive or cruel comments online that we’d never say in person. Anonymity breeds threats and bullying, and we know that kids tend to bully when they are afraid of losing status. Bullying also increases when witnesses don’t speak up out of fear. (The good news is that this “bystander effect” can be reduced through lovingkindness training.21) At a heightened level, cruelty flourishes when authority figures give explicit or tacit permission for emotional or physical violence, a phenomenon dubbed the “Lucifer Effect” by Phil Zimbardo, of Stanford prison experiment fame.22
Another kindness killer is stress. Sylvia Boorstein, a meditation teacher who wrote a wonderful book on the paramis, tells a story that captures this idea. Once, while she was teaching her grandson’s first-grade class about mindfulness, a student asked her how she knew when she wasn’t paying attention. Boorstein paused, reflected, and eventually responded, “I know I’m not paying attention if I am not feeling kind.”23 We can easily see this when our attitude toward others, especially our kids and partner, changes after fighting traffic following a stressful day at the office.
When we take care of ourselves, compassion comes easy. But studies have found that the more stressed we are, the less helpful we become. This even applies to seminary students and other professed do-gooders,24 and I see this all the time with burned-out therapists; “compassion fatigue” is a risk for any caregiver. At the cellular level, oxytocin (the love hormone) and cortisol (the stress hormone) work on the very same receptors, making it almost impossible to feel both stressed and loving at the same time. Stress lights up the limbic system, which means that the outer cortices of our brain—the area associated with the ability to take someone else’s perspective, control our impulses, and experience empathy—are shut down. It’s no surprise that so much relational violence and bullying happens in high-stress, pressure-cooker schools.
reflection How does your level of compassion change in relation to stress or other factors in your life? How might being aware of this change help you in terms of your self-care?
When we are stressed, we forget the power of simple actions, such as lowering our bodies to our child’s level, making eye contact, smiling, telling our child we love them, or holding a hug until our child lets go. But challenging times are precisely when we most need to practice the actions to foster connection. When our kids sense stress in our bodies or speech, they often react or pre-act, unwittingly setting negative patterns in motion.
The Power of Communication
We teach kindness by sharing it, offering our children the experience of empathy as we extend lovingkindness toward them and others. Compassion is also one of those social contagions, like generosity, that spreads from person to person.25 Of course, it’s often easier to have compassion for strangers in a distant country than those closer by. So consider what words and tone you use to describe your boss, in-laws, ex, and even the insensitive stranger who just cut you off on the highway. When we talk about “poor people,” for example, it suggests that poverty is part of a person’s identity, rather than their experience. When we regularly refer to “good guys” and “bad guys” in stories—not to mention in our social circle—how does that affect our kids’ compassion and ability to see these people as people? This even holds true when discussing a bully or a bully’s family—it’s certain that they, too, are suffering in some tangible way. Keep in mind that someone, someday, will likely view your kid as the bully. Indeed, plenty of people who knew me when I was young would be surprised to hear me preaching the virtues of compassion.
It can take a while to realize that everyone deserves compassion. When I was a kid in 1981 and heard that Ronald Reagan had been shot, I ran to my parents and beamed, “Did you hear the good news? Someone finally shot Ronald Reagan!” After all, I had grown up hearing them complain endlessly about the new president. My mom crouched down and looked me in the eyes, saying, “Oh, Sweetie, even though we really disagree with him, we’re never happy if someone gets hurt.” That blew my four-year-old mind, and the memory stands out as a significant moment in my childhood. A few years later, at a time when I still believed that only “bad guys” went to jail, my mind and heart were blown open when our church did a clothing drive for people in prison. Here was a completely different perspective—people in prison were, well, people. How had I learned otherwise? It was partially from our punitive, “zero tolerance” culture, which makes teaching compassion and kindness truly an act of rebellion.
reflection Who are the people in your life you struggle to hold in compassion? What about in your own family? What makes it difficult for you to feel compassion for them?
The way we speak can be more skillful, empathic, and accurate. It can be easy for adults and children to fall into “you’re mean” or “he was selfish,” rather than “he was acting selfish” or “I’m feeling hurt by your words.” Ideally, we use “I” statements and employ words to describe behavior (rather than the person) when we speak with our children, especially when talking about others. More deeply, we can seek to understand a person’s behavior rather than just label it. Every behavior communicates something that child doesn’t have words or skills for. Rather than saying, “He’s mean,” we can ask what might be behind the other child’s unkind behavior—for example, “Do you think he could be lonely or tired?” I know a couple who encourages their son to think of three reasons someone might have acted the way they did (like “Maybe he had a bad morning” or “I think he might have been jealous”—but the reason can’t simply be, “Because he’s mean”).
Paradoxically, if you want to reinforce kindness and compassion, praise your child’s character. Phrases like, “You are a kind and helpful person,” are actually more effective than, “That was helpful to take the garbage out,” though both are obviously welcome. Much like reinforcing hard work, making it about character reinforces their identity of being a helpful person. On the flip side, if your kid acts selfishly or unkindly, name the behavior as unkind, rather than suggesting he or she is inherently that way—for example, “You are a kind person. I’m surprised you did something unkind by grabbing his toy!” This reminds them and inspires them to be their best self, rather than shaming them out of being their worst self.
reflection Bring to mind a recent situation in which someone in your family acted in a hurtful way. Think of three reasons they might have acted that way. What about a stranger?
Just Like Me . . .
Recognizing the commonalities we share with others enables us to activate our compassion and lovingkindness. Mirabai Bush says,
Realizing that the other person is also just like me is the basis on which you can develop compassion, not only towards those around you but also towards your enemy. Normally, when we think about our enemy, we think about harming him. Instead, try to remember that the enemy is also a human being, just like me.26
As we get to know others, even just through spending time with them, we appreciate them more deeply. To paraphrase Thich Nhat Hanh, love is understanding, and understanding is love’s other name.27 Kids understand this, too. I once had a conversation with a fifteen-year-old who pondered whether truly understanding someone means you have to love them or if loving them means truly understanding them. Social psychologists might refer to something similar: the “proximity effect,” or the fact that spending time with different kinds of people has been shown to break down bias.
We can practice recognizing our commonalities in various exercises. Ram Dass uses one called “Just Like Me” that highlights our similarities, especially our common joys and struggles with another person, and deemphasizes our differences. For children, get-to-know-you games like “The Wind Blows” and other icebreakers can build empathy, compassion, and kindness. Similar to the empathy-building activity mentioned earlier, you can encourage your kids to notice three commonalities with different people (especially difficult people) or even fictional characters. You can also encourage them to deliberately notice the helpful people in the world, as Mr. Rogers recommended.
When a group of eighteen-month-olds was asked to identify the emotions of characters in their picture books, they became more likely to share, help, and show concern for others.28 Likewise, reading or writing first-person accounts of suffering has been shown to increase empathy.29
. . . And Yet Different—Examining Privilege
Part of cultivating kindness is seeing our similarities, but another part is learning about, respecting, and appreciating our differences. Bigotry emerges from fear, and—as Yoda famously pointed out—fear leads to anger, hatred, and suffering. The Buddha originally developed lovingkindness practices to conquer fear and its physiological manifestation in fight or flight. More recently, mindfulness has been shown to reduce racial bias.30
Exposing kids to different languages and stories that feature characters who look or act differently from us has been shown to boost empathy and respect. Traveling to other countries and trying different foods can help break down stereotypes when done thoughtfully. But you don’t have to travel the world to find different cultures, of course—just take public transportation out of your own neighborhood or seek out restaurants, grocery stores, music, and languages different from your own. Recall that Siddhartha wasn’t moved to universal compassion until he left his own gated community.
Our own culture, identity, and privilege are so natural to us that they might as well be invisible, just like water has become undetectable to a fish. We can discuss privilege skillfully with our children by discussing things or freedoms they have that others don’t. The intention is to build awareness and inspire action, not generate shame or defensiveness. Reminding them about starving children across the globe (or across town) in the middle of a broccoli battle is unlikely to open hearts. Nagging your kids that they should feel grateful is more likely to result in shame and defensiveness. As emphasized in chapter 5, look for moments when your children are particularly open and receptive to discussing important topics. And remember, looking at privilege is a challenge, even for adults.
Privilege is simply the unearned advantages many of us live with by virtue of our social class, skin color, gender presentation, or any of the other identity markers in our culture. It’s not too hard for most of us to see the ways in which others are disadvantaged, but it requires honesty, effort, and determination to accept that some of us live with systemic advantages or disadvantages that we neither earned nor asked for. Privilege is not something to be ashamed of, and we don’t explore it only to be paralyzed with guilt. Rather, we explore our privilege so we can activate our empathy, compassion, and kindness to ally with others in the interest of justice. In this way, privilege becomes an asset, rather than a hindrance. The Buddha himself was born into significant privilege of his time—a wealthy, educated, powerful family. He renounced his wealth but lent his status to help liberate others. Similarly, we can strive to use our privilege to educate others (including our families and friends) to dismantle the unjust system.
reflection How are your children learning about privilege? What privileges do you and your family enjoy that can be used to help others? Which would you give up or lend if they could help others? What has been your journey in coming to understand aspects of your own privilege?
If you’re having a little difficulty with this reflection, I highly recommend Peggy McIntosh’s “White Privilege Checklist”31 for those of you who, like me, fit that bill. Her work helped me uncover my own parental privileges as an educated, wealthy, white cisgendered man married to a woman in light of stories I’ve heard from friends, patients, and colleagues. My list isn’t comprehensive (I’m sure I could include another page or two), but I encourage you to look it over and see which of my privileges might apply to you.
1. My child’s textbooks acknowledge both the hardships and contributions of people of their background and identity.
2. My child can access education that accommodates their learning needs.
3. I can take my child to get their hair cut and feel confident the stylist will know how to cut their hair.
4. My child can take their electronics project to school and not be arrested or called a terrorist.
5. People in my family do not have politicians or public figures telling them they need to act more American.
6. My child can use the bathroom or locker room in which they feel most comfortable.
7. My child has more than a token adult in their school with whom they can identify, who has time and energy to mentor them.
8. My child can physically access the same spaces as others with little difficulty.
9. My child can go to college without wondering if others believe they got in because of affirmative action.
10. My family’s holidays are celebrated or at least acknowledged by my child’s school as much as those of other spiritual traditions.
11. My child can find comfortable and stylish clothing made for their body type.
12. My child can express political views without being accused of insufficient patriotism.
13. My child can access culturally competent health and mental health care.
14. I can reasonably assume my child will graduate high school and go on to receive some form of higher education.
15. My child can attend schools, drive down streets, and walk through parks that are not named for people who have oppressed their ancestors.
16. If my child gets in trouble, authorities would probably respect their rights and believe their side of the story.
17. My child can easily find toys and positive models in the media that reflect their identity.
18. People in my family can feel that the emergency personnel will actually provide assistance and not hurt them if they call 911.
19. I can access parenting books that are respectful of or relevant to my family’s heritage and culture.
20. My child can get the appointments they need easily and with little financial hardship.
21. My child does not have people asking where they are “really” from.
22. My child can choose whether to spend time with other children like them or not.
23. My child does not have people asking what his or her “real” name or gender are.
24. My child can be assertive about their needs without fear of being labeled “angry,” “crazy,” or “dangerous.”
25. My child can describe our family’s personal (or professional) circumstances to others without fear of judgment or concern.
Just learning about privilege can inspire action, transforming compassion to a verb, as many teachers advise. One wealthy girl I see for therapy asked her parents if she could give up dessert and send the saved money to victims of the Haiti earthquake—she even convinced all the kids at her prep school to do the same, which resulted in thousands of dollars donated. McIntosh asks, “The question is, having described white privilege, what will I do to end it?” When we practice empathy and compassion, it sparks compassionate action in the real world.
reflection What from the checklist resonated for you? What was hard to read? What privileges of your own could you add to the list?
Additional Suggestions and Practices
Lovingkindness meditation can be practiced in a myriad of formal ways, but here’s a simple, informal exercise that is the basis of most compassion training. Try it as an entire family, when birthdays come around, or just before bed—really, try it any time you want, but make sure you practice these Kind Wishes in the order they appear.
PRACTICE Kind Wishes
• First, bring to mind someone you deeply respect and look up to and who loves you in return. Think of something that would benefit this person and make them happy. Make a “kind wish” and send it their way.
• Next, send a wish to someone you love—a friend or family member.
• Now make a kind wish for a neutral person—someone you don’t know very well at all (a person you often see in the grocery store, someone who delivers your mail, or a quiet neighbor, for example).
• Lastly, wish something nice for someone you dislike or feel frustrated with. (Or, as one teen I met put it, “Love your haters, man!”)
The challenge is to begin with acts of compassion that come more naturally to us and then slowly expand the circle to include more difficult gestures of lovingkindness. I once heard Buddhist teacher Noah Levine describe it as starting with the little dumbbells in your life before moving on to the big dumbbells. Just as with physical training, we begin with actions that are easier.
Practices to foster connection and empathy can be found around the globe. Danish schools devote one hour per week for “Klassen time” to raise issues, resolve conflicts, and share treats. Christianity teaches the importance of asking for forgiveness and offering it to others. The Jewish holidays of Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah encourage reflection and reconciliation. Forgiveness is one of the six virtues in Hinduism. Even science has studied all of these to find ways to boost compassion and thus health and happiness.
Every two weeks, Thich Nhat Hanh’s community engages in a “Beginning Anew” practice in which members share a ritual to resolve any conflict that may have arisen recently. This helps the community maintain a sense of health and wholeness, approaching themselves and each other with a fresh beginner’s mind.32 This practice can take place within a family or as a practice between parents or siblings. Whatever the constellation, participants agree to speak mindfully and listen without interrupting each other. It may help to have a third party present as a witness or facilitator to keep things on track. In fact, it’s an excellent way to empower children in the facilitator role. Here are the three essential steps of Beginning Anew.
PRACTICE Beginning Anew
Flower Watering: In this part of the ritual, open with honest appreciation, naming specific actions and positive qualities of the other person, especially positive contributions within the family. In this way, you water the seeds of these positive qualities, turning minds and hearts toward the positive. This takes energy away from anger and misperception.
Sharing Regrets: In this next phase, express specific regrets, apologies to make, or amends to offer.
Expressing a Hurt: In the last phase, speak truthfully about how the other person’s actions or words affected or hurt. When expressing the hurt, it is most effective to speak from a place of calm and compassion, perhaps by practicing some mindful breathing or walking beforehand.
Thich Nhat Hanh suggests that if we have a misunderstanding with someone, we wait until the person is finished speaking, even waiting a few days to clear things up. Best of all, he recommends a hugging meditation to close the ceremony.
We humans are meant to connect like this—our brains are wired for it. Mirror neurons activate when we watch another person, so that our bodies and brains literally feel what the other person is feeling and doing. This explains why we flinch when we see someone else in pain and why yawns, laughter, and strong emotions are contagious. The behaviors that our children witness in their families and communities will influence their values and development, right down to the level of their brain structure. How we interact and show love to our kids throughout their childhood—every criticism or gesture of kindness—creates a neurological template for their future relationships with friends, partners, and their own families, in turn.
When we don’t cultivate compassion, it can wither in favor of our darker nature. A few months ago I spent a wonderful morning with Leo as he squealed and pointed with delight at some ants that had invaded the sidewalk in the wake of a dropped Popsicle. Yet only a week later he was ferociously stomping ants wherever he could find them. We can’t always stop our kids from behaving unkindly, but we can encourage them to enact compassion and lovingkindness. Opportunities to do so arise all the time if we keep our eyes open. When we approach the world with mindfulness, we come to know it more deeply, and when we deeply know someone, it becomes hard not to love and care for them.
We don’t have to be perfectly loving beings all the time. We don’t have the financial, psychological, or genetic resources to treat everyone as we treat our child—let alone always treat our child how we’d like to. Trying to do so only leads to compassion fatigue, exhaustion, and burnout. When these occur, no matter the reason, it’s time to go back to our own practice of self-compassion. If you have read this far, you are probably on the path to doing enough as a caring and compassionate parent, and that in itself may be enough. As always, do your best and strive for the middle path.
Compassion (even self-compassion) runs in families, so I encourage you to keep up the good work. In a study of social activists, altruistic kids were shown to carry the same values as their parents;33 so what you do now really does make a difference. Remember that the lovingkindness your children received in the womb and early years of their life influences their brain structure and even how their genes are expressed, potentially affecting generations to come. Ashoka, the Buddhist emperor of India, followed a code that included respect for other faiths. His kingdom was known as the “kingdom of kindness.” While few of us are modern-day emperors, perhaps we can strive to create a kingdom of kindness in ourselves, our families, and our communities.