My father-in-law, Bill Breen, said some moving words on the theme of kindness during our wedding. I thought it would be a shame to have the audience limited to the twenty people who were there to hear it, so I’ve posted it here. I also plan to re-read it annually on our anniversary.
My wedding vows can be found here.
Leah and Raja asked me to say a few words before they exchange their vows. So I’ve put a few words together.
Over these past few months, I’ve been thinking a lot about kindness—not least because I have directly benefited from so many acts of kindness. My thoughts have also been powerfully influenced by the novelist George Saunder’s writings on kindness.
Kindness is a form of love. And my guess, Leah and Raja, is that far in the future, when you look back on your lives, you will have practiced the art of kindness for many, many years. That in fact, practicing kindness is now and will continue to be a defining feature of your lives together.
I know that’s a worthy goal because more often than not, those who loom large in our hearts are those who gave us a bit of their love; their support; their friendship. In other words, their kindness.
Now when it comes to kindness, I’m not thinking of sugar and spice and everything nice. Or even puppy dog’s tails. Kindness comes in many forms, and I’m thinking of the kind that lifts someone up; that supports someone who’s being oppressed; that provides a helping hand, especially when no other hand is offered.
Now I have to admit, because we are human, it’s not always easy being that kind of kind. Perhaps it has something to do with our Darwinian drive to survive, but in our minds’ eye, we stand at the epicenter of the world. Our personal history and narrative are what matter most.
It’s no surprise, then, that we so often prioritize our desires over the needs of others. And that’s completely understandable, no more so than when we are young.
And Leah and Raja, I’ve gotta tell you, you are still young! You stand at the cusp of this new life together. This moment and the moments to come require you to be both dreamers and doers.
That is, to dream of the adventures and challenges that will help you achieve a fully lived life together. And also, to summon both the grit to pursue those dreams—even when you will have to venture far off the trail to seize them—as well as the creativity and spark to bring your dreams to life.
So of course, there are and will be times when you have to put yourselves first, if you are to dream and do something difficult that makes your lives better. Let’s be realistic: It takes a little bit of selfishness to become our best selves.
It just seems to me that that the key to truly achieving a fulfilling life is to strike a balance between pursuing “success”—however you might define that word—and elevating kindness. To not let the drive to accomplish more take over the entirety of our lives and squeeze out opportunities to be more big-hearted.
The key question, of course, is “how?” How do we create the space to be more generous, more loving, more aware of what is happening in the here and now, even as we engage in the “me-first” pursuit of accomplishing more?
The good news is that in many instances, life and time steer us towards kindness. Having children diminishes our egos and dramatically elevates our compassion and altruism. As parents, we don’t care so much what happens to us, as long as our kids benefit. Because our love for them is boundless, our generosity and compassion abound.
Similarly, the aging process grinds down our inclination toward selfishness and our misbegotten belief in our centrality in the universe. Sure, we tend to grow a little grouchier and grumpier as we grow old older. But across the years, there will be times when real life intrudes and punches us in the gut. And when it does, we find that family and friends come to our aid and lift us up.
We learn that we don’t stand alone. That we aren’t the sole protagonists in life’s narrative. That in fact, we are really supporting players in each other’s life stories—and that’s the way we want it to be.
But we don’t have to wait for the passing of time to bend us toward empathy and generosity. My prediction, Raja and Leah, is that as you pursue the ambitious things that matter to you—climb all the Cascades; travel to the world’s wildest places; fall further in love; innovate and create; make a dent in the universe—that you will lean even further into kindness to each other and to others as well. That you will tamp down the selfish things that would reduce you and make you ungenerous, and reach into the luminous parts of your being and cast that light toward those who would most benefit from your caring.
I know this because I have seen how you look out for each other and take care of each other. I have witnessed the generosity and caring that you bestow on family and friends. Most of all, every day, Lise and I experience your deep love and support, as I face my own particular challenge. You have been right at my side, every step of the way. Especially when I stumble. For that—and for all the love you have shown me before this diagnosis—I am so deeply grateful.
That is why I know that when you are 90 and I am 128, you will tell me that even as ambition has pushed you toward your life goals, you have carved out, year in and year out, a bright, shining space for caring and kindness, which has enriched your lives and the lives of others, many times over.
I know that in the end, your truest legacy will be love.