You Don't Know What Someone's T-Shirt Would Say
You Never Know What Someone Is Going Through...Choose Kindness
This week, I sat down with FOX 9 Good Day Minnesota to talk about The Peace Guidebook. When this interview was originally scheduled, I thought I knew what we would talk about. Peace. Stress. Kindness. How to focus on what we can control. How to pause before reacting. How to breathe. How to choose our response. But then life happened.
On August 7, my mom's home in Lakeville, Minnesota caught fire. My mom and my uncle escaped by crawling to safety in their pajamas and bare feet. The house is a total loss. Everything is gone. Even the cars were destroyed. My mom is covered in bruises, and her hair was singed as she crawled out of the burning house.
Suddenly, I wasn't coming to Minnesota simply for a book tour and media appearances. I was coming home to my family. And yet, my family absolutely did not want me to cancel the appearances that had already been scheduled. So there I was, sitting on the set of FOX 9 Good Day Minnesota talking about peace while my own family was experiencing one of the most difficult moments of our lives.
And maybe that's exactly when we need to talk about peace.
Peace Isn't About Having a Peaceful Life
I think we sometimes misunderstand peace. Peace doesn't mean nothing bad happens. It doesn't mean we don't experience grief, fear, anger, disappointment, stress, loss, or uncertainty. It doesn't mean we walk around perfectly calm while difficult things happen around us.
Peace is how we meet those moments. Can we stay present? Can we focus on what we can control? Can we accept help? Can we extend compassion? Can we give ourselves and other people some grace? Can we pause before we react? Can we breathe? Can we choose what we do next?
That's why one of the practices Dr. Katie Eastman and I talk about in The Peace Guidebook is: Pause. Breathe. Choose. I'm living those three words in a very different way right now.
We're Not Wearing T-Shirts That Explain Our Lives
During the FOX 9 interview, we talked about something I haven't been able to stop thinking about. We have absolutely no idea what another human being may be going through.
We're not walking around wearing T-shirts that explain our lives. Mine doesn't say: My mom's house just burned down. The person standing beside you at the grocery store isn't wearing one that says: I'm grieving someone I love. Your coworker's doesn't say: I'm scared about what the doctor told me. The person who didn't return your call isn't wearing one that says: I'm overwhelmed and doing the best I can. The person who seems distracted doesn't have a shirt announcing: I'm taking care of someone I love. The stranger who seems impatient isn't wearing one that says: Today is one of the hardest days of my life.
We simply don't know.
Think about how differently we might treat one another if we did. Would we be a little more patient? Would we judge a little less? Would we give someone another minute? Would we forgive the distracted cashier? Would we reconsider the angry email? Would we ask someone if they're okay instead of assuming they're rude? Would we choose kindness?
I think we would.
What If We Didn't Need the T-Shirt?
That's the bigger question. What if someone didn't have to explain their pain before we offered compassion? What if kindness were simply our starting point?
We spend an enormous amount of time making assumptions about other people based on tiny glimpses of their lives. Someone cuts us off in traffic. Someone doesn't answer our text. Someone seems quiet. Someone forgets something. Someone isn't acting like themselves. And we create an entire story about why.
But we don't know their story. We don't know what happened five minutes before we encountered them. We don't know what happened five days ago. We don't know what they're going home to tonight. We don't know what they're trying desperately to hold together.
People shouldn't have to prove they're hurting before we treat them gently.
Control What You Can Control
Another thing we talked about during the interview was stress. There is so much in life we cannot control.
I cannot undo what happened to my mom's house. I cannot replace decades of belongings and memories overnight. I cannot make this experience disappear for her.
But I can ask myself: What can I control right now?
I can be here. I can help. I can listen. I can make the phone call. I can help her get what she needs. I can hug her. I can say thank you to the people helping our family. I can choose how I respond.
Sometimes we exhaust ourselves trying to control things that simply aren't ours to control. Bring your attention back to what is. Your words. Your actions. Your attitude. Your response. Your kindness. Your next choice.
Kindness Matters More Than We Realize
Since the fire, our family has experienced extraordinary kindness. People have called. People have donated. People have shared our GoFundMe. People have prayed. People have offered clothing, meals, transportation, places to stay, help, connections, and simply their presence. People have asked one of the most beautiful questions another human being can ask: "What do you need?"
Those moments matter. They remind me that kindness isn't small. Sometimes kindness is the thing holding someone up when they aren't quite sure how they're going to stand on their own.
And you may never know the impact your kindness has. The person you smile at today may desperately need that smile. The person you give a little extra patience to may be holding back tears. The friend you check on may need someone to remember them. The stranger you help may never forget you.
You don't have to know someone's entire story to be kind to them.
Pause. Breathe. Choose.
The message of The Peace Guidebook feels incredibly real to me right now.
Pause. Before you react, judge, criticize, or assume.
Breathe. Give yourself enough space to remember that another human being is standing in front of you.
Choose. Choose patience. Choose compassion. Choose grace. Choose kindness. Choose peace.
Not because everyone deserves every behavior to be excused. Not because difficult things aren't difficult. Not because we're pretending everything is okay. But because we get to decide what we bring into the world.
And right now, more than ever, I believe we need to bring more kindness into it.
So the next time someone frustrates you, disappoints you, seems distracted, moves too slowly, responds too quickly, or simply isn't behaving the way you think they should, remember this: You don't know what their T-shirt would say.
Maybe we shouldn't have to.
Be kind anyway.
Pause. Breathe. Choose.
And choose to see the human being standing in front of you.
Elizabeth Hamilton-Guarino
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