Men Should Be Kind

A humble New Year’s resolution idea

There was a time, not long ago, when I was proud of my cruelty. I thought of it like it was a mutant superpower. There was a low-budget horror movie from the early ’80s directed by David Cronenberg called Scanners that I use to rent and re-rent from the video store. The VHS tapes had stickers on them that read ‘Be Kind, Rewind.’ I didn’t always rewind.

Scanners was about people with telepathic abilities who could make heads explode. That was me. I was a Scanner. I could make heads explode with a perfect insult.

And my insults were perfect because I knew where to find other people’s soft spots. I knew where to find them because I was nothing but soft spots. I hated my body. I couldn’t fathom why anyone would love me. I was constantly raw because I refused to take responsibility for my own failures and disappointments. My resentments were mighty. So I naturally assumed others felt the same way about themselves and it turned out I had plenty of company.

Sometimes my abuse wore a question’s clothing. Other times I would pretend to be cruel only to be kind when, in fact, I was being cruel only to be cruel. I was a dick and it was all I had.

Being a mean son of a bitch meant never being alone. I use to drink at a bar where the drunks would cheer me on whenever I’d stab a fellow loser in the heart for sport. I should have had my ass kicked but the miserable loved how easy it was for me to hurt people. They’d line up until the last call. Being a mean son of a bitch means no one cares how, or if, you get home.

I once told a friend, a man who saw that I was in pain, that I didn’t need to quit drinking because at least I didn’t have a problem with the needle, like his sister. If I upset him he didn’t show it. Instead, he continued to try to love me so I turned him invisible with my mind. Oh, look, texts from a ghost. Eventually, when there was no one left to taunt, I’d stand in front of the mirror and try to make my own head explode.

Cruelty made me feel powerful but cruelty is just weaponized self-hatred. It was like I was being eaten alive by maggots and my solution was to pick them out of my rotten parts and throw them at friends and family, strangers, anyone who looked happy or whole, hoping to infest them, too.

The only New Year’s resolution I’ve ever managed to keep was simple: be kinder. You should try it. Men should be kind. There was a time I would have mocked such hokum. You know: tell your friends you love them. Listen to those who feel unheard. Comfort the suffering. Forgive.

It’s not easy to be gentle with others, or yourself, but it’s worth it. In the long run, I mean. I don’t think I’ve ever regretted being kind.

Kindness is not a weakness. I know a kind word doesn’t have the serrated edges of a cruel one. Kind words, however, are durable. Kind words endure. They do not burn away or freeze and crack. Kindness is strength, it is stamina, the best of humanity rests upon the shoulders of kindness. Only the kind know that one day you will lose everything you ever loved and that’s just how it is — so love boldly everyone you can, love all of it, right now, before your grave is dug. Kindness is a kind of courage because only the brave can face that truth.

My cruelty was like tinfoil knight’s armor — shiny but it peels easily when pinched. My kindness, though, is a thick, warm quilt and there’s room for both of us.

I’ve made other kinds of promises to myself as the champagne corks pop at midnight but I’ve broken every one. I do not think running a marathon is my destiny, nor is learning a new language. I’m not suggesting I can’t do either but there’s something about New Year’s resolutions that set us up for failure.

It may be the arrogance of them. The universe scoffs at lofty declarations. It is best to keep your head down because fate watches us all through a sniper’s scope. A New Year’s resolution is like a prayer that begins “me almighty.” If you want to improve yourself then you need to understand that it is quiet work, emphasis on both ‘quiet’ and ‘work.’

But I have managed to keep my promise to be kind over the years. I’m not always successful. I do find myself staring at my social media accounts and licking my lips. The internet is a place where cruelty drops from the skies like bombs from remote-piloted drones. Online, I can deliver a petty put-down with the push of a button and then immediately forget about it. That is not a healthy or happy way to live.

Most of my cruelties these days, however, are directed inwardly. I like to think this is an improvement but it’s not. Familiarity breeds contempt, etc. It helps to remember my resolution, however. Learning to be kind — to be gentle and generous and considerate — starts with being kind to oneself. So I stare into the mirror and force myself to say a nice thing to myself. “You’re doing the best you can, John.” “Thank you, John.” “I mean it, John.” “I know. Now tell that to someone you love.”

If genders came with operating manuals a man’s instructions would be three words: never show fear. If the shadows growl, growl back. I’m guessing ten thousand years ago a human’s fear was like ketchup to a sabretooth tiger. But even men have to evolve. Sometimes the growling in the shadows is just another terrified dude. I have evolved, slowly, and I have learned to step into the darkness with arms outstretched for a hug.

Learning how to be kind saved me from collapsing in on myself like a neglected ruin. I met a person I didn’t know I couldn’t live without until I was living without them. It was too late for us. I want you to know it is okay to walk away from someone who is constantly unkind. I know that now.

Then late one night, hunched over and hollowed-out, I called an invisible man who picked-up and listened to my sorrow when he didn’t have to and kindness begets kindness. There’s more to the story but just know one of the blessings that come with an emptiness inside is the opportunity it presents to fill yourself with something other than fear.

This New Year’s I’m going to whisper my heart’s hope to myself again. A gentle vow. I hope I can be kinder than I was the year before. I want to laugh more, share more, embrace more. My time is short but there’s so much work left. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do and a man’s gotta be kind. I am a mutant. I am a Scanner. I am going to try to pour my love into others.