Is There A Limit To Kindness?
ServiceSpace
--Ammi
5 minute read
Aug 22, 2014

 

Claire, a French lady of around 40, has been living in London, for 14 years, ever since she went there for her graduate studies. She is on her first ever visit to California, visiting some alumni from her grad-school in London. Somehow California seems to be a place that attracts people looking to reinvent themselves, and that is what she is on her mind too. She is mourning the loss of a relationship and reconsidering her career choices after years as a banker. About 3 years ago, she had invested in a start-up ethical business venture started by the friends she is visiting. Unfortunately, after a good initial start, that venture too seems to be failing as the founders are unable to scale-up the operations or sustain it at the small level.

As another alum of the same school, I was told about Claire's visit and a possible alumni event, and somehow on an instinct, I ended up offering a spare bedroom in my home as a place where Claire could stay, if she wanted to. Claire accepted the offer and arrived last evening, while I was away at work. She went to bed before I got home at night since my work hours run late into the evening. As soon as I returned home, I could sense her presence, even though she was sleeping behind the firmly closed doors. I have a highly acute sense of smell and there was a scent in the air that prevailed throughout my small home. In these lovely summer nights, I usually sleep with my windows and doors open, but the fragrance felt so overpowering to me, that I had to close my bedroom door, as a barrier to contain it.

This morning, Claire's friends came to pick her up to take her around town. We only had a few minutes to briefly exchange greetings before she was gone physically, but her fragrance lingered. I ventilated the house to make it less intense for my sensitive nose, and closed the doors to her bedroom and the bathroom where she had laid out her toiletries. It is a rather overpowering fragrance for me, not unpleasant, just too strong to be comfortable. I spent the day worrying about whether this would trigger my allergies or whether I could tell Claire about how it felt to me. I know that those who use strong perfumes routinely can become so accustomed to it that they do not even smell it anymore.

I told myself that Claire is only a short term visitor, who needed to feel warmly welcomed, so it would not be kind for me to bring up her scented routine as something that bothered me. Then as the day wore on, I felt stupid that I was suffering this scent all day long, as a reminder of her presence in the home, even though she had been gone for hours, and I had only really shared her presence for a few fleeting minutes. Even as I resolved that I should tell Claire how the scent was uncomfortable for me, I worried about how she might react. What if she felt insulted? What if she misperceived it to be a soft-way to convey that she was not welcome, when it was just the overpowering perfume that I did not want? How closely was the scent a part of her even though I saw it simply as something applied on? I come from a culture where guest-is-like-god (Atithi-dev-bhavo), to be treated better than you treat yourself. I also felt that I too had a right to be comfortable in my own home, specially when she is not even physically present in it. I questioned myself: is this the limit of my kindness? When I open my home to an unknown stranger, I assume responsibility to accept them, just as they are. The discomfort throughout the day, despite open doors and windows, lingered long enough that I decided I would risk appearing less friendly than I really am, and address this by bringing it up politely when she returned.
 
At the end of the day, as I opened the door to let Claire return, I could smell cigarette smells mixed with her perfume. I realized that she was being considerate in her own way, by masking the more unpleasant tobacco smell, which I would have far lower tolerance for. After chatting about our day for a few minutes, just before she was retiring to her room, I mustered up all my courage to let her know that I had a a request. I told her "I have a very sensitive nose and the scent in one of your toiletries is too strong in the small enclosed space. I was okay as I had spent the day with all doors and windows open, but I will be grateful if you can use the guest soap and shampoo instead or if it's one the makeup items, to put on your makeup outdoors". She immediately said, it must be her perfume, and she can definitely use that outdoors. She also reassured me that she had already washer her hair that morning, and will not need to do it again the following morning.
She was not upset, as I had imagined she might get. There was no hint of her being offended, and if she was, she hid it really well. The well ventilated home no longer has that heavy sweet fragrant air, as it did for most of the day. She is in her bed asleep.

I am wondering why this was so difficult for me to do. Why did I even frame it as a test for the limits of my kindness towards her? It is kind to engage and let someone know if they are inadvertently causing you discomfort. The other people in the world are kind too, and they do not want to cause the discomfort. She was being kind by masking a more unpleasant smell, and I saw her full kindness in knowing that she respected our enclosed space enough to not smoke indoors. She was kind to me by honoring my request and not misinterpreting it in anyway. I am grateful for that. Kindness may have been masked before, but by speaking my truth, I unveiled it. Kindness does not have limits. Kindness does not require one to suffer in silence. Kindness is also speaking up. I am reminded of a Mark Twain quote -- "I had many worries, and some of them actually happened".  

 

Posted by Ammi on Aug 22, 2014


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