If I could say "I can't," I'm sure I could be kinder #162
If I could say "I can't,"
I'm sure I could be kinder.
I had an experience recently that made me think so.
Summer vacation.
I invited a friend's family over to my house.
That friend is raising a 4-year-old boy and
a 5-month-old baby boy,
and since it's difficult for them to go out,
we had promised to play at each other's homes.
And so, it was decided that
it would be at my house first.
As soon as the specific date was set,
I started preparing.
I tidied up the room, cleaned,
disinfected all the toys in the house,
and washed the stuffed animals.
I asked about their preferences for snacks and drinks,
as well as any allergies,
and prepared several types of each.
On the day, I cleaned the room perfectly again,
decorated with seasonal flowers,
and even did my makeup more carefully than usual.
I checked around the room and checked the clock.
I finished all preparations 30 minutes early,
sat on the sofa, and took a breath.
When the time came, my friend's family arrived.
On this day,
other than my friend and me, and me and the baby,
everyone was meeting for the first time.
My daughter was overjoyed to receive
her favorite Precure goods as a gift.
After that,
we had the baby lie down in the space
I had prepared for him,
and we all played together
and ate snacks together.
My friend's child
spoke in such a gentle way,
and was smiling the whole time.
But he also clearly asserted himself,
saying, "I want to play with this."
Perhaps because of that,
my daughter, who is usually cautious
and was fidgety and nervous at first,
had completely opened up before I knew it.
With all that going on,
while we were playing with various toys,
that child seemed to take a liking to the karuta cards,
so I read the reading cards many times,
and we all played with them over and over.
During that time,
my friend was holding and soothing the baby while watching over us with a smile.
Since he seemed to like them so much,
I said to my friend,
"If you'd like,
shall I lend you these until we meet next time?"
At this moment, if I were in the opposite position,
I definitely would have said, "Sure," borrowed them,
and felt I had to do my best to read the cards.
But the words that came back from my friend
were completely unexpected.
My friend, still smiling as always,
"No, that's okay.Reading the cards,
it's a hassle, so I can't do it."
she said.
After that,
we talked about the next time I would go to my friend's house.
I said,
"You know, [Friend's Name], you have a baby, so
you really don't need to worry about anything!"
Of course, I meant it.
Then my friend said,
"Well then, the room will be as usual,
I won't tidy up much, is that okay?"
I answered,
"Of course!"
On this day, I thought.
To be honest with your own feelings,
and to say "I can't"
when you truly can't do something.
That creates peace of mind,
and rather than pushing yourself for the other person's sake,
it might actually result in being kinder to them.
I have a tendency to push myself
beyond my capacity
thinking it's for the other person.
Even if it's actually tough,
I've pushed myself, thinking it's for their sake.
But spending time with my friend,
I realized there is a "form of kindness" different from my own.
When you can't do something, you properly
say, "I can't."
But by doing that, you maintain peace of mind,
and you can be kind to yourself and the people around you.
Watching my friend and her children,
I thought that being able to say "I can't"and being able to be kind
might actually be connected.
Saying "I can't"
feels like a high hurdle
for me.
I feel like it's not kind to the other person,
and I feel sorry.
But,
which one allows you to be kinder to the other person?
When I thought about that,
I realized I wanted to be able to properly say "I can't" when I can't, just like my friend.
◯ Related Articles