The other day, I was in line at a coffee shop. The woman in front was struggling with her coins and looked stressed. I had some extra change and decided to help her out. She looked up, surprised, and smiled at me warmly. Honestly, I didn’t do it out of obligation; I did it because it felt good. It was almost selfish, but in a positive way. That small act made me feel buzzing, with a warm, fizzy sensation that lasts longer than caffeine.
Most of us grow up thinking kindness is an obligation. Share our toys. Say sorry. Help our neighbor. Obligation has its place, but let’s be real friends; obligations can get heavy. Right? It can feel like a checklist, something we owe to society.
But what if we think differently? What if kindness were about enjoyment instead of obligation?
The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said: “Every act of kindness is charity.” (Sahih Muslim). He didn’t restrict kindness to big gestures. Even a smile, a kind word, or moving something dangerous from the road counts. Small, everyday acts of kindness that we often do without thinking are still very valuable.
And modern science agrees. Neuroscientists discuss the “helper’s high”: when we do kind things, our brain releases dopamine and oxytocin, the same chemicals that make us feel good from laughter, chocolate, or love. Our body quickly rewards us for doing good.
Think about the last time we felt excited:
- Sending a random “thinking of you” text and getting back “Wow, I needed this.”
- Letting someone slip into traffic and getting hit with that big, over-the-top thank-you wave.
- Making a funny joke that got the barista to laugh instead of just handing us coffee.
That glow? It’s not a obligation; it’s a joy.
And here’s the simple truth: when kindness comes from joy, it doesn’t bind us to a contract. We don’t keep track. We don’t leave with a mental note saying, “Okay, I did this for her, so she owes me.” No. We’re not waiting for the universe to make things fair like some cosmic bookkeeper. We’re not hoping for a favor back or recognition. We gave because we wanted to, and that’s all there to it.
That freedom makes pleasure-driven kindness feel light. Obligation says, “Now they owe you,” but pleasure replies, “Nah, I just enjoyed it.” And strangely, this makes kindness even more powerful because it’s pure. No strings attached. No hidden contracts. No fine print at the bottom of the receipt.
Aristotle called this way of living eudaimonia, usually translated as flourishing. This concept goes beyond just temporary happiness. It’s about leading a life that feels good and true to who we are. For Aristotle, flourishing means living virtuously, but not in a rigid way. It’s about building habits that bring harmony to our lives and to those around us. Kindness that comes from joy is part of this: it’s a choice we make instead of an obligation. It comes from our genuine selves and helps shape who we become. It’s basically ancient Greek for living your best life, without keeping score.
Think about how often relationships (friendships, family, even marriages) get complicated by unspoken expectations: “I did this for you, why can’t you do that for me?” When kindness becomes transactional, resentment grows in the silence of what was given versus what was returned. However, when kindness is simply enjoyable, it remains unaffected by this negativity. We walk away lighter, not heavier.
It’s like when a child gives us a rose, it feels special compared to an adult giving a gift, expecting something in return. One is genuine, while the other feels… calculated. Kindness without any hidden agenda is about the joy of giving, like leaving a secret letter for someone to find without waiting to see who discovers it.
And here’s the truth: when we act this way, we allow ourselves to say no, too. If kindness isn’t an obligation, we’re free to choose when, how, and to whom we show it. That’s not selfish, it’s honest. It means that when we do offer kindness, it’s genuine, not forced by guilt or social pressure. This freedom is a type of flourishing. Aristotle might call it eudaimonia, but really, it simply feels like peace.
It’s the same energy Winnie the Pooh carries. He has a natural kindness. He’s not kind because he feels morally pressured. He’s kind because it’s who he is, whether he’s sharing his beloved honey, waiting patiently for Piglet, or offering his simple, gentle wisdom. And in doing so, he makes the Hundred Acre Wood feel lighter, softer, safer. Pooh’s kindness works precisely because it’s joyful, not dutiful.
And maybe that’s the secret we miss as adults: joy makes kindness sustainable. Obligation can burn us out. But when kindness brings us joy, we’ll keep coming back to it, over and over.
Kindness was never meant to be heavy. It was meant to flow. To be free. To light us up even as it lights up the people around us.
As Pooh reminds us: ‘A little consideration, a little thought for others, makes all the difference.’
And as the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ taught long before, ‘Every act of kindness, no matter how small, carries beauty.’
Love,
Kirana
