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.

Photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

Photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash

Photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

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.