“In a culture obsessed with speed, kindness is the shortcut we keep ignoring.”

We live in a world obsessed with strategy.

Launch plans. Growth hacks. Market share. Efficiency.

But here’s the irony: the most effective strategy we have doesn’t show up in boardrooms, spreadsheets, or pitch decks. It shows up in the checkout line at the grocery store.

A Moment in Line

Not long ago, I was standing in line at the store. A mother in front of me had two small children—restless, fussy, ready to melt down. She was juggling bags, groceries, and the fragile patience of a long day.

I did something unheard of in today’s hurry-up culture: I told her to go ahead of me.

Her face changed instantly. Relief. Gratitude. Almost disbelief.

But the real surprise came from Erica, the cashier. She looked at me and said, “You just made my day.”

That’s the ripple of kindness.

It cost me nothing.

It meant the world to a tired mom.

And it touched a third person who wasn’t even directly involved.

We think kindness is small, but it’s never contained. It multiplies.

The Myth of Random Acts

We’ve all heard of “random acts of kindness.” Drop a quarter in an expired parking meter. Buy coffee for the person behind you.

Those moments are incredible. But let’s not confuse random with optional.

Kindness isn’t an accident. It’s a decision. A discipline. A way of seeing.

Imagine if kindness were as intentional as brushing your teeth. Not something you did once in a while, but a daily ritual. A posture. A lens.

Kindness isn’t random. It’s the most strategic thing you can do to create trust, connection, and meaning.

Why It Works

Here’s the truth: people rarely remember your resume, your LinkedIn profile, or your quarterly goals. They remember how you made them feel.

• The teacher who said, “You’ve got this.”

• The stranger who held the door when your hands were full.

• The coworker who checked in when you went quiet.

Kindness lingers longer than titles, bonuses, or applause.

Because kindness is about seeing people, and in a noisy world, being seen is the rarest gift.

What It Costs

We overcomplicate kindness, as if it requires deep pockets or spare time.

The truth?

• A smile is free.

• Listening costs nothing.

• Respect takes no extra effort.

The price of kindness is low. The cost of its absence is staggering.

Think about the leaders you’ve trusted. The friendships you’ve kept. The communities you’ve stayed in. Chances are, kindness was the glue.

Why It Feels Risky

Kindness feels vulnerable. You risk being dismissed, misunderstood, or even taken advantage of.

But withholding kindness never protects you. It only isolates you.

Generosity is risky, yes—but so is silence. If you want to change the atmosphere of a room, you don’t need permission. You need to go first.

And here’s the kicker: kindness is not weakness. It’s leverage. The kind that opens doors, brings money, and affords status, never could.

Slow Is Smooth. Smooth Is Fast.

I’ve said this in prior posts. There’s a saying in the Navy SEALs: “Slow is smooth, and smooth is fast.”

It applies perfectly to kindness.

When you slow down to notice someone, you create smoother relationships. And smoother relationships move faster, further, and deeper than forced ones ever could.

In a culture addicted to shortcuts, kindness is the ultimate long game.

How to Practice

You don’t wait for inspiration. You build a practice:

1. Pause before responding.

   Ask: Will my words make this person feel bigger or smaller?

2. Choose one person a day.

   Send the note. Offer a smile. Speak the encouragement.

3. Anchor kindness to habits.

   Coffee → compliment someone.

   End of the day → text a thank-you.

4. Celebrate micro-wins.

   Don’t underestimate small moves. They stack.

5. Expand your definition.

   Sometimes kindness is silence. Sometimes it’s presence. Sometimes it’s calling someone higher.

The Invitation

Kindness won’t trend. It won’t make headlines. But it will outlast almost everything else.

The question isn’t whether kindness works. The question is whether we’ll choose it when it’s inconvenient.

You don’t need a movement. You need a moment.

Hold the door. Send the text. Offer the grace. Slow down long enough to see.

Because the world doesn’t need more brilliant strategies.

It needs more ordinary people willing to practice extraordinary kindness.

And that starts with us. Today.

Here’s your challenge: before your head hits the pillow tonight, practice one act of deliberate kindness. Watch it ripple. Then tomorrow, do it again.