Day 4: Empathy
a poem a day in the month of may
Hi friends,
Today’s word is empathy.
Take this wherever you want to take it, flex and fold the word in and around itself to see what shows up for you.
I’m so glad you’re here.
Here are some images that come up when I search “empathy”.
Take your time to look at them, to notice, to consider, as you write.
These days, I hope for a little less empathy of a certain kind, because, honestly, I’ve lost myself along the Empath Way. Let me explain. Empathy is a gift, an opportunity to hold kinship at the forefront, to imagine the world through our neighbor’s eyes. But sometimes our empathy gets twisted into a kind of codependent shame cycle, where things like “do what she says” or “how selfish you are” become the refrain, and suddenly, the Empath Way takes over. Let me make sense of this. I do not wish to burn out my precious light of empathy, but to hold it gently, just like I wish to hold the hearts of my neighbors, of kids dying across the world and loved ones crying out for every loved one they’ve lost. I wish for an empathy that endures through the seven generations, that keeps us connected at our heart centers because we should be, because it matters, because our world needs us to remember that once you walk in another’s shoes for long enough, you feel the callouses and scars that make up an entire life. Let me put it plainly: I want to put down the shame and put on the shoes, and slowly, quietly, hands entwined, candles lit in unity, walk my neighbor home.
Empathy- from the inside
--The second grade teacher who came to her kindergarten class every day to give the abused child a hug and tell her she was good;
--the 9th grade English teacher who called her from her isolation and invited her to be visible, in the class play;
--the french hostel owner who was undisturbed when you rang her doorbell at midnight and declared "We always have room for you"
-- when you got locked out, the elderly friar offering a place to sit, have a cup of coffee and share your truth....
-- the therapists and fellow survivors who never shuddered when you told them your experience;
-- the women who became your new family and your circle of support....
All lived empathy to me - when I was wounded, hurt, in pain -- their embrace of me gave me life and hope and enabled me to keep going .......
I see you hiding away in the corners
under dark fogs of unbearable sorrow.
I hear your inner wailing encased
within deep guttural longing.
I smell the fetidness of your chagrin
a bleeding heart in chasmic anguish.
I taste the bitterness of your dejection
the pungency of overwhelm and weariness.
I feel your pain as my own
I am here with you in yours.
.
Heart to Heart
Neuron to Neuron
Fingertip to fingertip.
.
Vulnerability meeting the raw edges.
Intimacy of real honest connection.
Devoted humbleness of staying put.
.
No bypass or circumvention.
No creating a silver lining.
No fake sympathy.
.
Only spacious holding.
Empathy.
For I see you…