It made me think about how easy it is to fill our days with tasks that keep us productive but not present, busy but not alive. How often we spend our energy maintaining things rather than experiencing them. His comment felt less like a warning about gardening and more like a reminder to pay attention to what brings us life—to what lights us up—and to the moments that make us feel awake to the world again.

What if kindness worked like multiplication?

What if light spread the same way word of mouth does, one person to another, and then another, and then another?

Coming back to reality doesn’t have to mean losing your peace. Every new day is a quiet invitation to own your narrative, soften your pace, and lead your life with intention and kindness.

Transformation doesn’t start with willpower, it starts with self-compassion. Neuroscience shows that kindness strengthens motivation, focus, and follow-through. The habits that last are the ones built in love, not shame.

There’s something sacred about the vision board process each year. It’s more than gathering pictures or writing goals. It’s a moment to pause, breathe, and ask yourself who you’re becoming, and who you’re ready to stop being.

In 2025, #TheKindnessTour became living proof that culture doesn’t change by slogans, it changes by chemistry. Kindness releases connection, trust, and hope, reshaping classrooms, workplaces, and communities across the country.

Christmas used to mean excitement and travel and family. Now it means something quieter: reflection, gratitude, and peace. The older I get, the more I see that the real magic of the season isn’t in what we do, but in what we remember.

Last year’s vision board showed me that intention doesn’t guarantee predictability, it guarantees growth. The truth is, vision isn’t about control. It’s about allowing life to shape us while we learn to stay kind on the climb.

A young barista reminded me that kindness doesn’t have to be grand to make an impact. Sometimes it’s a smile, a word, or a simple moment of presence that ripples farther than we’ll ever see.

I tried to light a candle three times before it finally caught. That quiet moment became a lesson in expectations, patience, and the power of pausing before we assume something—or someone—is broken.

A simple game of charades turned into a lesson on perspective when “Queen” meant royalty to one person and rock band to another. It reminded me that we often see the same things differently—and that kindness begins when we pause to understand someone else’s view.

During a leadership meeting, one empty chair caught my eye—and wouldn’t let go. It reminded me that belonging isn’t about filling a room with people; it’s about filling it with connection, presence, and care.

Seven minutes. One quick errand. A few missed signs—and a penny that caught my eye. This moment reminded me that sometimes life whispers “slow down,” and other times it simply invites us to notice the good right where we are.

Sometimes life hands you a Monday with no belt, no toothbrush, and no patience. That morning reminded me that self-kindness isn’t about perfection—it’s about pausing, laughing, and choosing calm when everything else feels off.

Kindness isn’t something you give. It’s something you live. During a day with the Friends School of Baltimore, I was reminded that when we live kindness—not just talk about it—it finds its way back in the most unexpected ways.

Research shows that when we focus on quantity, especially in social spaces, our brains slip into comparison. This activates threat responses in the amygdala and is linked to increased anxiety and decreased life satisfaction (Appel et al., 2020; Eisenberger, 2012; Vogel et al., 2014). When we focus on quality connection, the brain’s reward system is activated: oxytocin and dopamine are released, fueling resilience, belonging, and joy (Crocker et al., 2017; Seppala, 2016).

This ripple effect matters more than we often realize. A single act of kindness does not end with two people. It can inspire dozens of others to pay it forward. In fact, research shows that kindness is contagious. One study found that when people witness kindness in a group, they are significantly more likely to practice kindness themselves. That means your small action could change a stranger’s day, shape someone’s perspective, or even shift the culture of a workplace or family.

We sometimes underestimate how far our influence extends. Yet kindness moves outward in waves — from the moment we choose it to the unseen corners of the world it touches.

Hi, friends — it’s been a while. The quiet taught me more than I expected, and it reminded me that kindness is not a personality trait, it is a choice. In this post I share the lessons I carried from silence into light, along with simple practices that help you show up with presence, gratitude, and self-kindness. If you’ve ever needed a reminder that your light still matters, this one is for you.

It was, in retrospect, a typical workplace misunderstanding.

My boss had assumed I would do something I had done on a similar project, in a similar circumstance, and I had chosen what was best for the team and handled it differently.

Things had worked out, but she was not happy. A terse email confirmed as much, and I offered to be a better communicator in the future.

She was at my office when I came to work the next day, with her hand on her hip, checking her phone. I asked if she had seen my email, and she nodded. I asked if she felt the situation was resolved, and she did.

Who am I — really?
From hometown roots to shifting emotions, Brian Mendola explores identity in all its messy, meaningful layers. Part reflection, part invitation, this piece asks a simple question with infinite answers: Who are you?

Read more from Brian’s thoughtful journey into self and belonging.