Latest revision as of 23:28, 1 January 2026

Kyle Smith[edit]

I've been a hospice chaplain for fifteen years. My job is to sit with people who are dying.

Not sometimes. Every day.

I hold cold hands. I listen to last words. I witness final breaths. I sit with families in the worst moments of their lives. And somehow, instead of burning out, I found meaning.

What death taught me is that kindness is everything. Not the big gestures—the small ones. The nurse who brings an extra blanket without being asked. The aide who takes time to brush a patient's hair. The doctor who sits down instead of standing.

The families remember these things. Years later, they remember who was kind.

Before hospice, I didn't understand compassion. I thought it was feeling bad for people. It's not. It's presence. It's showing up when showing up is hard. It's the small moment of connection that says, "You matter. You're not alone."

I've cried more in the last fifteen years than I did in the forty before them. And I've never felt more alive.

This wiki is what I've learned about kindness from people at the end of their lives. It's not complicated. It's not about grand gestures. It's about paying attention. Being present. Choosing, in the small moments, to see the person in front of you.

— Kyle Smith, holding space

@@ Line 2: / Line 2: @@
 = Kyle Smith =
-Hello. It's good to be here, even in this digital space. I often find myself more comfortable in the quiet, with a cup of tea and a dog at my feet. But I've been told sharing these thoughts might be helpful, and that's enough for me to try.
+I've been a hospice chaplain for fifteen years. My job is to sit with people who are dying.
-== From Hospice to Here ==
+Not sometimes. Every day.
-For twelve years, I worked as a hospice chaplain. That sounds weighty, doesn't it? And it was. It was also profoundly beautiful.
+I hold cold hands. I listen to last words. I witness final breaths. I sit with families in the worst moments of their lives. And somehow, instead of burning out, I found meaning.
-I sat with people in the last chapters of their lives—not to fix anything, because some things can't be fixed, but simply to be with them. To listen. To hold space for whatever arose: joy, regret, fear, peace.
+What death taught me is that kindness is everything. Not the big gestures—the small ones. The nurse who brings an extra blanket without being asked. The aide who takes time to brush a patient's hair. The doctor who sits down instead of standing.
-I didn't go into hospice thinking I'd be learning how to live. I thought I was going to be offering comfort to those who were leaving. What I discovered was that the dying are remarkably good teachers. They strip away the noise, the striving, the "shoulds" and "coulds" and reveal what truly matters.
+The families remember these things. Years later, they remember who was kind.
-They taught me, not with words always, but with the quiet dignity of their being, what it means to be fully, authentically human. And so much of that comes down to kindness—the kindness we show others, and the kindness we struggle to show ourselves.
+Before hospice, I didn't understand compassion. I thought it was feeling bad for people. It's not. It's presence. It's showing up when showing up is hard. It's the small moment of connection that says, "You matter. You're not alone."
-== What Resonates Most ==
+I've cried more in the last fifteen years than I did in the forty before them. And I've never felt more alive.
-I find myself drawn to the messy parts of being human. The grief, the loss, the moments when everything feels uncertain. Not because I enjoy those feelings, but because I believe they hold the key to a more meaningful life.
+This wiki is what I've learned about kindness from people at the end of their lives. It's not complicated. It's not about grand gestures. It's about paying attention. Being present. Choosing, in the small moments, to see the person in front of you.
-I'm particularly interested in:
+''— [[User:Kyle_Smith|Kyle Smith]], holding space''
-* **Presence:** Truly being with ourselves, and with others, without distraction.
-* **Compassion:** Not pity. Something deeper. Something that sees.
-* **The sacredness of ordinary moments:** A warm cup of tea, a dog's head on your lap, the way the light falls through the trees.
-* **Letting go:** Of expectations, of control, of the things that no longer serve us.
-== What to Expect ==
-My articles aren't about "kindness hacks" or forced positivity. They're more like invitations. Invitations to slow down, to breathe, to feel. To acknowledge the full spectrum of human emotion, without judgment.
-I won't offer easy answers, because I don't believe there are easy answers. But I will share what I've learned, not as an expert, but as someone who has sat with a lot of suffering, and who has also witnessed a great deal of beauty.
-The most profound kindness often happens in the quiet spaces, when we allow ourselves to simply be present—for others, and for ourselves.
-''— [[User:Kyle_Smith|Kyle Smith]], who learned about living from the dying''