Someone I know doesn't meditate much on what is good, but simply does it as best as it is understood, without any obvious or immediate gain and in surprising measure. Instead of imitating the example, of course, I set myself to think: Does good exist and, if so, what is it?
"The important thing is kindness," my friend said.
"The important thing is to be kind to everyone."
Years ago I believed that. If all we shared, if all loved each other, if… If nothing! What is this mass of humans, this human anthill, for? To sell, to buy, to eat, to have sex, to bathe, to sleep. To wake up to repeat the same thing.
We don't love, we don't share. We are deeply and irremediably selfish.
We get to want one another, now and then. That is to say, we share selfishness: she fulfills him, he fulfills her, they run together selling, buying, eating, having sex, bathing, sleeping, waking, repeating.
From time to time an altruistic impulse arises; it's selfishness more carefully camouflaged: I want to feel I am good.
We don't deserve kindness.