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.

From Hospice to Here

For twelve years, I worked as a hospice chaplain. That sounds weighty, doesn't it? And it was. It was also profoundly beautiful.

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.

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.

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.

What Resonates Most

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.

I'm particularly interested in:

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.

— Kyle Smith, who learned about living from the dying