Kindness doesn’t scale like tech, but it transforms like art.
Today, we’re writing about a recent article in the Guardiannewspaper. The article describes a memoir written by Bernadette Russell. She decided to do an act of kindness every day for a year. Interesting idea, right?
A year of daily kindness is such a rich premise—part experiment, part spiritual practice, part rebellion against cynicism. Bernadette Russell sounds like someone who saw the world going off the rails and decided to lean in with love instead of despair. There’s a quiet boldness to that.
When Bernadette Russell decided to perform one good deed every day for a year, it made a difference to the world around her but also had a big impact on her own life.
Storytelling, compassion and community are the heart of all of her projects, since she began her award winning project ‘366 Days Of Kindness” in 2011, for which she was selected as one of the Southbank Centre’s 67 Changemakers. She has been community theatre director at the Royal Albert Hall since 2018.
Bernadette Russell is an expert on hope and kindness, as well as a writer, performer and activist who plants a lot of trees – and helps others do the same. She is author of The Little Book of Kindness and The Little Book of Wonder, both published by Orion and in multiple foreign editions around the world. Since 2012, she has toured the US and UK speaking about the importance and life-changing experience of practicing kindness
Acts of daily kindness seems to be a paradox: how much can a daily act of kindness really help? It’s like a single snowflake contributing to an avalanche.
The paradox of daily kindness: Small. Gentle. Almost absurdly inadequate in the face of the world’s troubles—and yet… potentially avalanche-inducing.
We might say:
Each act of kindness is a snowflake: light, fleeting, easily missed. But when enough fall, and the conditions are right, they shift the whole mountain.
There’s a kind of existential defiance in this too. Like Bernadette Russell wasn’t just being sweet—she was building a slow, deliberate resistance to apathy and despair. Her acts were tiny revolutions.
Inefficient but powerful: it doesn’t scale like tech, but it transforms like art.
Invisible but cumulative: most kind acts are never seen, but they alter the emotional climate.
Intentional but unpredictable: you give a flower to a stranger, and two years later they become a florist.
The Drifters
One of the most influential books of my mid-teens was The Drifters by James Michener. It introduced so many new things to my muddled mind. The book’s narrator was an older man, conservative but with an open mind; completely non-judgmental and compassionate. The other major characters were five to ten years older than me, and had to deal with some major life challenges.
To this day, I remember one character – a young woman who’d been traumatized and violated by the police in Chicago at the ’68 Democratic convention. To be able to move forward, she adopts an attitude of “superlove.” “When they conk you on the head with their billysticks, zap them right back with superlove.” At the time, it was hard to see if this was a psychological defense mechanism she’d adopted to be able to function in the world, or if she was set on a new path.
Semi-Sequitur: Time to Reread The Drifters
Q: How cool is the Austin Public Library A: Very cool.
In James A. Michener’s novel The Drifters, there’s a notable line: “When they conk you on the head with their billysticks, zap them right back with superlove.” This reflects the ethos of responding to aggression with overwhelming kindness. The sentiment aligns with the themes explored in the book.
The Drifters follows six young individuals from diverse backgrounds as they journey through various countries, including Spain, Portugal, Morocco, and Mozambique. Each character grapples with personal challenges and societal issues of the late 1960s, such as the Vietnam War, civil rights, and cultural upheavals. Their travels and interactions serve as a backdrop for exploring themes of self-discovery, resistance, and the transformative power of kindness.
The phrase “zap them right back with superlove” encapsulates a philosophy of countering negativity with positivity, a recurring motif in the novel. It suggests that even in the face of hostility or trauma, responding with love and kindness can be a powerful form of resistance and healing.
