It was a month ago I started this blog as a part of my learning about compassion. By thinking and writing about compassion I was sure I would gain more insight into the phenomenon. I wasn’t expecting overnight miracles, but a slow progression of education through immersion.
Over the last month I have written about a wide range of topics having to do with compassion. But the one I have shied away from until now is the not-so-feel-good part of the definition of compassion: suffering.
The accepted definition of compassion is to recognize another’s suffering and feel moved to relieve that suffering.
I, like most people I know, don’t enjoy feeling uncomfortable. Recognizing suffering flies straight in the face of that dislike.
Acknowledging suffering causes inner turmoil, disquietude, and feelings of inadequacy. It forces me to see injustice, unfairness, and powerlessness. I am faced, head on, with my own imperfect humanness, and my inability to “fix” anything.
As an adult in the midst of a mid-life career readjustment, these are feelings and sensations I have worked for many decades to bury. After all, how does one become a successful anything by wallowing in negativity?
Except, in order to truly engage in feeling compassion, I must also accept that the coin has two sides.
The world both is and is not a beautiful place. People both are and are not good. Social systems both do and do not help people in need.
Compassion is not for Pollyannas.
I recall a quote shared with me years ago: “The increase of wisdom is the increase of sorrow.”
In light of compassion, this quote reveals to me that as one gains the ability to help others, one sees more clearly the suffering of others.
Edith Wheeler Wilcox wrote: “Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone; For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own.”
This reminds me that, while I see the suffering around me I should guard against becoming part of the problem.
And this is where taking action to relieve the suffering of another becomes the antidote to the ailment.
Helping others has been shown to have a protective quality, as long as one takes care of their own needs as well.
Counter to the “compassion fatigue” and “self-compassion” advocates, I see that both of these camps arise out of placing other’s needs ahead of and to the exclusion of self care.
In order for the two-way street of compassion to work, one must not only see suffering, but allow one’s self to engage in both the shared suffering AND the movement out of suffering.
Like Plato's parable of the cave: we are only trapped in the dark for as long as we allow ourselves to stay there. Being led, or leading another, out of the darkness results in the same thing for both the leader and the led: We are both now in the light.
And so I begin to see the faintest glimmer of understanding when my teacher speaks of “sitting with suffering”. It is not about taking the suffering on as my own, but to know the suffering of another so we may BOTH walk together out of suffering.
No one can show the way, unless they have been there too.
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For more about compassion, go to: www.CompassionSpace.com.