Living Compassion: A Story

I want to share a story with you that happened recently…

Several people were sitting in a room together having a discussion. Let’s call the main characters Al, Bill, Charlie, Dorothy, and Emily.

Towards the end of the discussion, Al made a proclamation that he really needed to share something.

He looked uncomfortable, as if this had been weighing on him heavily.

He began speaking and sharing his concerns about the topic that had brought them together.

His emotions were palpable.

Then Bill cut him off, in mid-sentence.

Bill started rationalizing why things had to go the way they did, that Al’s emotions were superfluous and a waste of misplaced energy.

Dorothy chimed in, validating Bill, that certainly times have changed, this was the new norm, and they had all better get used to it.

Al looked like a person frozen in time.

Like a deer in the headlights, confused as to what step to take next.

Certainly Bill and Dorothy had stepped in to assuage Al, and yet the look on his face was one of hurt and confusion.

The discussion forged ahead to other topics, and soon they stood up to part ways.

—

Charlie had noticed Al’s distress.

Having done a lot of work on compassion, Charlie took note that Al had a need that had not been met in the discussion.

He knew that leaving Al in this state was to leave him with the open wound of feeling unheard and marginalized.

Charlie had no responsibility to meet this need of Al’s, but out of his own need for compassion, he did the following:

Charlie approached Al and began to validate his comment, noted his need, and appreciated his participation.

Al looked like he had been recucitated.

His eyes became animated again.

Color came back to his face.

His voice gained confidence as he was washed over with a sense of relief.

But more than that, his eyes began to water.

His need was being met with kindness and compassion, and he was sincerely touched.

—

And what about Emily?

Emily had also watched this all unfold.

She saw Al make himself vulnerable.

She saw Bill and Dorothy react in a way that was hurtful to Al.

She began to feel uncomfortable.

The action in the room was triggering her parts and she began to feel vulnerable and unheard.

In the past, she would have shut down, dissociating from the pain of it all until it passed.

But Emily, too, had been working on compassion and doing inner work.

She was able to tap into self-compassion, holding all of her parts, reminding them that she could hold all of them, no matter how loud they were screaming in pain.

Then she was able to note the needs of those in the room:

Al needed to be heard.

Bill and Dorothy needed protection.

She was able to find compassion and stay connected.

—

Maybe Bill and Dorothy had never learned the tools of compassion and doing inner work.

But…

Maybe they had learned these tools at some point.

They may have even realized, as they were speaking, that something about it just didn’t seem right.

Without practicing compassion and doing inner work on a regular basis, their knowledge can’t reach expression.

Charlie and Emily weren’t compassion experts.

They hadn’t written any textbooks.

They weren’t professors of Compassionology.

But…

They were committed to reviewing the ideas and practicing the tools of compassion and inner work on a regular basis.

It wasn’t just about the knowledge.

It was about the fact that it was becoming second nature.

—

If we all had the knowledge of how to build compassion and do inner work…

If we would all revisit that knowledge and practice those tools…

The world would be a much better place.

Your world would be a much better place.

You would feel more at peace and less shut down or agitated.

The people around you would benefit exponentially.

And Hashem would have so much Nachas Ruach.