The Power of Good Deeds

What does one consider a good deed? Must it be a grand gesture or huge donation? Are small acts of kindness enough? I know most people have heard the concept that if you share kindness with the world, kindness comes back to you on a greater scale. It is the idea that if we all do random acts of kindness for the sake of kindness alone, that it spreads and snowballs until it impacts the community. Everyone benefits and the world becomes a better place. I used to scoff at this. The idea that “pay it forward” had any measurable impact on a society was laughable. It took a string of life changes over a few years to open my eyes.

I suffered some losses. My mental state was fragile. Anger and depression were always bubbling behind my smiles and constant joking. I buried the negative so deep that I was incapable of seeing anything positive. Then a good deed shook the wall around me. It was a small quake, but it was felt. A close friend left her comfort, her friends, and her family to live with me. We had been roommates in the past and assumed we would get along just as well in another state. It was not an easy change for either of us. It started something, though. I started to think of someone else. I started to do things for others without expectation. I helped her find a job, though I still wonder if that was a good deed or if I unwittingly introduced her to office hell. This led to more change for both us. We shared a tiny universe where I was now influenced by one of the kindest people I knew. There were cracks in my wall.

I felt better enough that I did not realize I was already patching the cracks and shoring up that wall. I was closing myself off again. Then there were those close to me who died. Depression came knocking at the door. We were old friends. I welcomed it with open arms. It felt too familiar to ignore. I felt like life was one knock down after another. Everything felt terrible to me. Blood clots in my legs and lungs sent me to the hospital for a few days where the docs informed me that I was diabetic. More crap piled on by life. Through this time, my friend stood strong and was there for me. I was not alone. I could feel genuine kindness. I wanted to share this with others. I wanted to be the guy that did good deeds. I wanted others to know that I was that guy. It didn’t last.

The following year I wound up having another hospital visit. This one led to me having an involuntary stay at another facility. I was not a happy guest. I also wasn’t cooperative at the beginning. A conversation with some of my fellow guests gave me a moment of clarity. Good deeds are powerful. Kindness is more than doing things for people. Purpose mattered. What I assumed was being done because those around me were paid to do so was revealed to be more than that. The income was inconsequential when it came to the deeds. Some of those who helped were volunteers. They earned nothing from it. I was most intrigued when I realized their lives were fulfilled regardless of the pay or any return as a direct result of their kindness toward me. I was grateful.

I’ll skip ahead a bit. I could share stories of my experiences at a mental health facility, but those are personal and belong to those who experienced them together. When I returned to “normal” life, I was worried what co-workers would think. Only a few knew where I had been. I had been gone for a month. There were new faces, so they had no idea and those who knew me didn’t press me about where I had been. They only knew I had to take time off for a health-related concern. I have had moments in my life where I start to overshare. This became one such moment. It was different, however, in that I wasn’t sharing for sympathy. I was sharing because I felt it important to do so. I felt there were others with walls built up. There were others struggling with their mental health in the dark because they felt no one would understand or when they had tried to share, they were told to “get over it”. I was compelled to share. So, I was open about it. I joked about being crazy to try to lighten the subject a bit. I didn’t consider myself “crazy”, but I wanted to show I was OK discussing things. The kindness of those who were there when I first “returned to society”, especially those who did not know me, were infectious. It started with one act of kindness. One seemingly insignificant good deed was the first pebble down the hill. I was in a mood. I was struggling with settling myself down using the techniques that I had learned. The woman who sat next to me quietly slid her phone onto my desk and whispered to me to just watch. It was terribly inappropriate, but hilarious video. I laughed. I was better the rest of the day. Some days, she shared her home cooked lunch with me. Other days she would say things or send me other funny videos to get me laughing again. The infection spread. We had to be quieted a few times and there was talk of a need to separate us because we were too loud. I wasn’t perfect at being kinder. I was inspired to work at it every day.

During this period of emotional growth, my roommate moved back to our home state and I moved from the burbs into the city. I live in Atlanta. The number of homeless around my apartment is significant. It is far more evident at night when you are startled by discovering someone sleeping in a doorway or on a wall by the sidewalk. My first night in the city I met a young man from my hometown. He moved to Atlanta for school and circumstances led to him being on the streets. He asked for one dollar. I handed him a five. The gratitude in his eyes was unforgettable. My eyes started to water. I didn’t want him to see so I said goodbye and walked away. Good deeds matter.

This is not an uncommon occurrence. There is part of me that prefers to keep such stories to myself, but I have shared the above story with friends because of the hometown connection. I share positive things I do, but I try to avoid it most of the time. It feels a bit disingenuous to share every good deed I may do. I don’t mean sharing that I donated to a specific charity or to a friend’s go fund me page to help pay medical expenses. That serves a purpose and purpose is important. There is purpose to this story, and it is to share good will to all during a time when we should be coming together to celebrate the holidays. Good deeds should be done year-round, but during this time I know many of us feel inspired to do so. There isn’t anything wrong with this. We should be kind and do good deeds when we can, though.

Good deeds do not have to be grand gestures. A good deed shouldn’t be measured by how much money someone can give or how much time someone can give. The importance is the purpose. Be kind without expectation. It will return, but that should not be why we are kind. It is as simple as making sure someone has at least one full meal a day. Giving blankets or warm clothes to someone on the streets because you noticed they have tattered clothes and sleep with a box as a blanket is a huge deal for that person. Talk to someone who seems to be ignored. Smile at those you encounter throughout the day. Say nice things to them. We only need one purpose for doing good deeds… that it is the right thing to do if withing our power to do something. There is no need to tell everyone. I have found that when I am performing good deeds regularly, it comes back to me. I believe and sometimes witness that good deed passed along. It improves community. It can lead to surrounding communities getting better and so on. We can do this… a good deed day, no matter how insignificant it may seem, can change someone’s life for the better.